The Mafia King of Philadelphia: From witness to his doted wife

And then Viktor Kessler kissed his wife.

Not like he had at breakfast earlier, when his mouth against hers had been a warning wrapped in possession. brief enough to silence the room and remind everyone exactly who she belonged to.

No.

This kiss was different. This one lingered. Slow. Warm. Dangerous in the quietest way possible. Like he had all the time in the world.

Sienna barely had a second to breathe before his hands closed around her wrists and guided them above her head, pinning them gently against the wall behind her. Not rough enough to hurt. Just enough to make her pulse stumble.

Viktor’s forehead rested against hers for a moment, his breath ghosting over her lips. God. He kissed like a man who enjoyed taking his time.

Every slow drag of his lips felt deliberate. Calculated. Like he already knew exactly how weak she became when he kissed the corner of her mouth first before deepening it little by little until she forgot what she’d even been angry about.

Sienna felt trapped between the cold wall and the heat of him. And somehow... she liked it far too much. Viktor kept one of her wrists pinned easily with one hand while the other began to wander.

Slowly. Painfully slowly. His fingers brushed the soft silk of her dress first, gliding over her waist before slipping lower. The movement alone sent a dangerous shiver through her body.

His mouth never left hers. Like he knew she would lose every coherent thought the moment he gave her too much attention at once.

The bastard was right.

His hand slid beneath the silk carefully, inch by inch, warm fingers tracing against her skin until Sienna’s breath caught sharply in her throat.

”Hm...” That low hum against her lips nearly destroyed her. His fingertips found delicate lace, brushing against it slowly, once, twice, teasing rather than touching, and suddenly her entire body betrayed her.

A gasp escaped her before she could stop it. Viktor pulled back just enough to look at her. And that smug, devastating smile appeared.

”There she is,” he murmured. ”I was waiting for that sound.” Sienna glared at him breathlessly, which only made him chuckle under his breath.

His fingers traced lazily along the lace again, unhurried, almost cruel in how patient he was being. Like he enjoyed watching her unravel one shaky breath at a time. Meanwhile, Viktor looked perfectly composed.

Perfectly calm. Which felt deeply unfair considering she was seconds away from losing her mind. Sienna swallowed hard. Resist, she instructed herself. You are resisting. You are absolutely.

She stopped resisting somewhere around the four-second mark. Traitorous, she told her entire body. Every single one of you.

”You know what your problem is, baby girl?” he asked softly against her mouth.

”You keep pretending you don’t like it when I kiss you.” And then his lips brushed slowly along her jaw, down the sensitive curve of her neck, while his thumb stroked teasing circles against her thigh beneath the dress.

Her knees nearly gave out. Viktor caught the reaction instantly, amused. ”Careful,” he whispered. ”You’re starting to look addicted to me.” Sienna let out a shaky laugh despite herself. ”You are unbelievably arrogant.”

”And yet,” he said smoothly, lifting his gaze back to hers, ”you’re still shaking for me.” The worst part? He was absolutely right.

He pulled back. Just enough.

Still holding her hands above her head. Still close enough that she could feel him breathing. That smile, the real one, small and private, sitting at the corner of his mouth as it lived there.

”There,” he said softly. ”That’s the worst part.” She stared at him.

”That’s the punishment.”

”Mm.” He tilted his head slightly. ”That is the punishment.”

”Kissing me is the punishment.”

”Kissing you,” he confirmed, completely serene, ”until you stop pretending you don’t want me to. Which, based on the last eight seconds...” his eyes dropped briefly to her mouth and back up, ”...is going to require quite a lot of punishing.”

Sienna opened her mouth.

Closed it.

I hate him, she thought. I hate him completely. I hate him with every cell in my body. I hate him and his stupid jaw, and his stupid hands, and the fact that he smells unreasonably good for a criminal, and I HATE that I noticed that.

”Let go of my hands,” she said. Impressively steady, all things considered.

He released them. Stepped back. Straightened his jacket.

Looked at her with the composed, infuriating expression of a man who had just won a point and was being gracious about it.

”Shall we go inside?” he said pleasantly. ”You have a gala to prepare for.”

Sienna smoothed the front of her dress.

Looked at the wall where she’d been standing. Looked at Viktor already heading back toward the house.

Noted, with profound irritation, that her hands were still slightly warm where he’d held them. Tomorrow, she told herself firmly. Flat shoes. Exit strategy. Do NOT get distracted by the..

Do NOT. She followed him inside. The bedroom was exactly as she’d left it.

Except for the three items arranged on the desk with the neat, deliberate precision of someone making a point.

A phone. A tablet. A laptop.

Sienna crossed the room and stood over them for a moment like she was approaching something she didn’t entirely trust. Which, in this house, was a reasonable policy for everything.

New phone, she observed internally. Interesting. What happened to my old one?

She picked it up. Unlocked it, her birthday, which meant someone had done their research, which meant she should not be surprised because she had already been read her entire biography over breakfast by a man who knew her bra size.

Still weird, she noted. Still extremely weird. She opened the contacts.

Most of them were there. Transferred over with the tidy efficiency of someone who had gone through her old phone like a filing cabinet and kept what they considered relevant. A few classmates. Her doctor, she thought, Viktor probably added that one himself.

She scrolled. Stopped. Scrolled back. Simon Blackwood is gone.

Lily Brown is gone.

Both of them. Removed. Cleanly. No trace, like they’d been neatly cut from a photograph with scissors. Sienna stared at the empty space where their names used to be.

He deleted them, she thought. Viktor Kessler, crime lord, kidnapper, surprise husband, went through my contacts and deleted Simon and Lily.

She sat down on the edge of the bed. Opened her mouth. Closed it.

I should be annoyed, she told herself. This is my phone. These are my contacts. He had absolutely no right to..