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

By the time they pulled through the iron gates of Aria’s house, Sienna was barely awake, murmuring something incoherent about flowers and locked doors and a man with dark, unreadable eyes sitting quietly by her bed.

Aria helped her inside, tucked her carefully onto the bed with a blanket pulled up to her chin, and sat beside her for a long while afterward, watching her sleep, wondering just how deep the trouble her best friend had wandered into really was, and how long it would be before it came looking for her here too.

They both went to sleep not long after, the house falling quiet around them, the kind of stillness that only comes deep into the night when even the maids and guards have finally settled somewhere out of sight.

Aria woke first.

Her mouth felt dry, that particular kind of dry that came from too much drinking the night before, and she pushed herself up off the bed slowly, careful not to disturb Sienna, still curled beneath the blanket beside her.

She padded quietly toward the kitchen, thinking of nothing more complicated than a tall glass of cold water, when she stepped into the living room and stopped short.

Her parents were home.

That alone was strange enough. Her mother and father were rarely in the country at the same time, let alone in the same room this early in the morning, both of them sitting stiffly on one of the large sofas, expressions tight and unreadable. But it was the third person in the room who made Aria’s stomach drop.

A man sat across from her parents, tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a dark suit that looked far too sharp for this hour of the morning.

His arms were folded neatly across his chest, and his eyes, dark and sharp, were fixed directly on Aria the moment she walked in, as if he had been waiting for her to appear.

”Uncle,” Aria said slowly, blinking against the morning light streaming through the windows. ”What are you doing here this early?”

He didn’t answer. He simply watched her, his expression unreadable, patient in a way that felt far more threatening than anything he could have said out loud.

”Did you go drinking again, Aria?” her father asked instead, his voice clipped and disapproving, the way it always was whenever he spoke to her. Mr. Cross had never been much of a fan of his wife’s side of the family, and it showed in the tight line of his mouth now, the careful distance he kept even while sitting in the same room as her uncle. ”What is wrong with you? When exactly are you going to start being responsible?”

”Your uncle says you’re in trouble,” her mother added quietly from beside him, her fingers twisting together in her lap.

”Me? In trouble?” Aria asked, genuinely confused now, glancing between the three of them. ”Uncle, what did I do?”

Before he could answer, the bedroom door creaked open behind her, and Sienna stepped out, still half asleep, rubbing at her eyes, wrapped in nothing more than the short, thin nightgown she had borrowed the night before.

She wandered toward Aria without looking up, her mind clearly still fogged with sleep, murmuring something about water and headaches.

Then she lifted her eyes and saw them.

”Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Cross,” Sienna said automatically, her voice still thick with sleep, before her gaze slid past them and landed squarely on the man sitting between them.

Her whole body went rigid.

Viktor.

For one long, frozen second, neither of them moved, the room around them seeming to hold its breath. Then Sienna’s instincts kicked in, sharp and fast, and she stepped backward quickly, ducking behind Aria as if her friend’s body could somehow shield her from the man who had clearly tracked her down.

”Come here,” Viktor said, his voice low and rough, carrying none of the softness she had heard from him back in her bedroom the morning before.

Sienna’s grip tightened on the back of Aria’s shirt.

”Don’t worry, Sienna,” Aria said quickly, twisting her head slightly to look back at her friend, clearly still not fully understanding the panic radiating off her.

”My uncle knows about the mafia stuff. He’ll make sure that the jerk who kidnapped you pays for it. I promise, he’s got a scary face, but he can actually be nice once you get to know him.”

Sienna’s mind was moving too fast now, pieces sliding together in a way that made her stomach twist.

”Your uncle,” she repeated slowly, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes never leaving Viktor’s face. ”Aria.” She swallowed hard. ”The uncle you always mentioned. The one your family listens to. That’s... that’s Viktor Kessler?”

Aria blinked, glancing between Sienna’s pale face and her uncle’s unreadable one, clearly only just now beginning to catch up to whatever was happening in the room.

”Yeah,” Aria said slowly. ”Uncle Viktor. Why? Girlfriend, what’s going on? Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

Sienna couldn’t answer right away. Her whole world seemed to be rearranging itself in real time, every piece of the last few days folding together into a shape she hadn’t seen coming at all.

Aria, her best friend, the same girl who had spent the entire night furious on her behalf, ready to fight Simon in a club parking lot, was somehow connected to the very man Sienna had spent all night running from.

Viktor rose slowly from the sofa, his height and presence filling the room in a way that made even Mr. Cross shift uncomfortably in his seat. He crossed the space between them at an unhurried pace, his eyes never once leaving Sienna’s face, something complicated moving behind them, relief and frustration tangled together in equal measure.

”You gave me quite a scare,” he said quietly, stopping just a few feet away from her, close enough that Sienna could see the faint tightness around his eyes, the exhaustion he was clearly trying to hide beneath his usual calm. ”A blood bag and a pile of pillows, Sienna. Really.”

Aria’s mouth fell open. ”Wait,” she said, looking back and forth between the two of them, realization dawning slow and painful across her face. ”Wait, wait, wait. Are you the mafia husband? Are you the jerk I threatened to break a bottle over? Uncle Viktor is the guy I was ready to fight for you?”