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

”I didn’t see anything, I swear!” Aria’s voice rang out sharply across the yard, shattering the moment instantly.

Viktor’s head snapped up, and Sienna scrambled backward so fast she nearly knocked her own head against the mat, both of them pulling apart in a rush of sudden, awkward movement as Aria came jogging across the lawn toward them, one hand raised in front of her eyes in an exaggerated show of modesty, clearly having caught far more of that moment than either of them would have liked.

”Nope, nope, didn’t see a thing,” Aria continued, peeking dramatically through her fingers despite her own claim, a wide, delighted grin spreading across her face as she took in Sienna’s flushed cheeks and Viktor’s uncharacteristically flustered expression.

”Just two people, definitely training, definitely not about to do anything else at all.”

”Aria,” Viktor said, his voice tight with warning, pushing himself up off the mat and offering Sienna a hand to help her up as well.

”What?” Aria said innocently, lowering her hand fully now, clearly enjoying every second of their discomfort.

”I’m just saying, if I hadn’t shown up when I did, this whole training session was about to turn into something very juicy, I would definitely have wanted to hear about it over breakfast.”

Sienna felt her whole face burn, accepting Viktor’s hand and letting him pull her up off the mat, careful to avoid meeting his eyes directly for a moment, too aware of how close they had just been, of how badly some traitorous part of her had wanted him to close that last remaining distance between them entirely.

”What are you even doing here?” Viktor asked quickly, desperate to change the subject.

”To see my best friend, of course, I texted you like five times,” Aria said, holding up her phone as proof. ”You didn’t answer, so naturally I assumed the worst and came to check on you myself.” Her eyes flicked briefly, knowingly, toward Viktor. ”Turns out I probably should have called first, apparently.”

”Aria,” Viktor said again, sharper this time.

”Okay, okay, I’m done,” Aria said, laughing, holding both hands up in surrender as she backed away slightly. ”Anyway, I actually have real news. Important news. That’s why I came all this way instead of just calling like a normal person.”

Sienna glanced at her, some of the earlier embarrassment finally fading into curiosity. ”What news?”

Aria’s playful expression shifted, something more serious settling over her features now. ”My dad just got a call,” she said. ”From Aliya’s father. Apparently, he’s requesting a formal meeting. With you.” She glanced pointedly at Viktor. ”Both of you, actually.”

Viktor’s entire posture changed instantly, the last traces of softness from moments before vanishing completely, replaced by the familiar, guarded coldness Sienna had grown used to seeing whenever business or danger entered the conversation.

”When,” he asked, his voice flat and clipped.

”Tonight,” Aria said. ”He wants it done tonight.”

Sienna felt a chill settle over her despite the warmth of the morning sun still hanging in the air, the earlier flutter of her heart from moments before twisting now into something closer to dread.

Whatever fragile, stolen moment had passed between her and Viktor on that training mat, it seemed the real world outside it had no intention of waiting patiently for either of them to catch their breath.

”I’ve been waiting for this meeting for a long time,” Viktor said, his voice low and thoughtful, more to himself than to either of the women standing in front of him. ”One more thing.”

His expression shifted then, the last softness from earlier disappearing completely, replaced by something serious, almost distant, as if the man who had been smiling down at her only minutes ago had never existed at all.

Sienna felt a small, confused frown tug at her own face, watching the change happen right in front of her.

”What?” she asked, already beginning to turn, taking a step closer to Aria as if some part of her wanted the extra distance from whatever was about to come next.

Viktor reached over to the small table set up near the edge of the training yard, the one that had held the practice knife and a few other supplies, and picked up something Sienna hadn’t noticed sitting there before. A gun. Small, sleek, unmistakably real, nothing like the dulled training knife from before.

”I got you this,” he said, holding it out toward her. ”You should keep it on you. Always.”

Sienna stared at the weapon resting in his open palm and shook her head slowly. ”I don’t need a gun,” she said. ”Thank you. I’m fine.”

”I wasn’t asking, Sienna.”

His voice left no room for argument, the same flat, immovable tone he used whenever he had already decided something and simply expected the world to fall in line behind him. He stepped closer, pressing the gun gently but firmly into her hand, his fingers guiding hers around the grip.

”Pull. Aim. Shoot,” he said, demonstrating with quick, precise movements, lifting an identical weapon from somewhere Sienna hadn’t even noticed him carrying and firing a single shot toward a target set up near the far wall.

The crack of the gunshot split through the quiet morning air, sharp and sudden, loud enough that both Sienna and Aria flinched hard, Aria letting out a small, startled yelp and grabbing onto Sienna’s arm.

”Pull, aim, shoot,” Viktor repeated calmly, as though the deafening noise hadn’t happened at all, holding the second gun out toward her once more.

Sienna glared at him, snatching the weapon from his hand with more force than strictly necessary, her earlier annoyance flaring hot beneath her skin. Fine. If he wanted her to hold a gun, she would hold a gun.

She raised it, following his instructions almost on instinct, her stance settling into something surprisingly steady, her aim tracking first toward the flower pot resting on the low garden wall a short distance away.

Then, slowly, deliberately, she shifted the barrel and pointed it directly at Viktor instead.

There was something almost unnervingly natural in the way she held it, her grip firm, her posture calm, her head tilting slightly to one side as she studied him down the length of the barrel, as if this wasn’t the first time in her life she had ever held a weapon like this.