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

Viktor’s eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he carefully smoothed it away, filing the observation somewhere in the back of his mind.

Either she was simply a remarkably fast learner, or there was more to Sienna’s past than she had ever bothered to share with him.

Beside them, Aria’s earlier amusement had drained completely from her face, replaced by wide-eyed alarm.

She knew Sienna well enough, had known her long enough, to understand exactly how competitive her best friend could get once challenged, and worse, how impulsive she could be when her pride was on the line.

”Sienna,” Aria said carefully, taking a small step back. ”Sienna, maybe don’t.”

”You think it’s a good idea,” Sienna said, cutting Aria off, her eyes locked steadily on Viktor, the gun still raised, still pointed directly at his chest, ”to put a gun in my hand? So confident I won’t just shoot you?”

Aria looked, if anything, even more nervous now, glancing rapidly between the two of them.

But Viktor didn’t flinch. If anything, the corner of his mouth curved slightly upward, something dark and amused flickering behind his eyes.

”You want to shoot me,” he said, his voice calm, almost inviting. ”Go ahead.”

He began walking toward her, slow and deliberate, closing the distance between them without a single trace of hesitation, his eyes never once leaving hers.

Sienna held her ground, the gun steady in her hands, watching him approach, waiting to see whether he would actually call her bluff all the way, or whether some part of him doubted she had the nerve to follow through.

She didn’t flinch either. Not once. Not as he closed the last few feet between them, not even when he stopped directly in front of the barrel, close enough now that the muzzle nearly grazed the front of his shirt, close enough that Sienna could see every faint detail of his face, every sharp, unreadable line of it, waiting patiently, almost daring her.

For a long moment, neither of them moved.

Then Sienna slowly lowered the gun, turning it over in her hands instead, studying the sleek metal with newfound interest.

”Okay,” she said finally, a small, satisfied smile tugging at her mouth. ”It’s cute. I’ll keep it.” She glanced back up at him, something sharp and playful flashing in her eyes. ”Just watch your back.”

”Be careful,” Viktor said, though his voice had softened again now, some of the earlier intensity easing back into quiet concern instead. ”I’m more worried you’ll shoot yourself before you ever get the chance to aim at someone else.”

”Don’t worry,” Sienna said, already turning away from him, tucking the gun carefully into the waistband of her leggings the way she had apparently seen done somewhere before, in some life or memory she still hadn’t fully explained to anyone. ”I’m a fast learner. I can handle this.”

She reached out and looped her arm through Aria’s, pulling her gently back toward the house, leaving Viktor standing alone in the training yard, watching her walk away with an expression that was, for once, difficult even for him to name.

”Let’s go, Aria,” Sienna said, and the two of them made their way back inside, leaving behind both the gunshot still echoing faintly in the morning air and the quiet, growing certainty in Viktor’s chest that his wife was far more dangerous, and far more mysterious, than he had ever given her credit for.

Viktor stood there a while longer, watching the two of them disappear through the back doors of the house, Sienna’s laughter drifting faintly back across the yard as Aria said something that made her tip her head back and smile.

”You think this is a good idea, boss?”

Marcus’s voice came from just behind him, low and careful. Viktor hadn’t even heard him approach, too caught up in watching the empty doorway where Sienna had vanished moments before.

”I know,” Viktor said, without turning around. ”But she needs to know how to protect herself.” He paused, his jaw tightening slightly. ”Even if that means protecting herself from me.”

Marcus said nothing to that, though something flickered briefly across his face, an old, familiar weariness that came from years of watching Viktor say things like that and mean every word of them.

”Find out what the Capris want,” Viktor said, finally turning to face him. ”And any news on Sienna’s family?”

Marcus hesitated, and that hesitation alone told Viktor most of what he needed to know before his second even opened his mouth.

”No, boss,” Marcus said. ”Nothing. I’ve had two of our best men digging for over a week now. There’s almost nothing on her before she turned eighteen. No hospital records under her name before that point. No school records that match up cleanly. I couldn’t even track down her adoptive family. It’s like she didn’t exist until she was already an adult.”

Viktor’s eyes narrowed slightly, turning the information over carefully in his mind. A woman with no real past, who could hold a gun like she’d been born with one in her hand, who fainted under stress and coughed up blood no doctor could explain, who ran from him without a single camera catching so much as a shadow of her escape.

Every piece of it should have worried him. Instead, it only deepened the strange, gnawing curiosity that had been building in his chest since the very first night he laid eyes on her.

”Keep looking,” Viktor said finally, his voice quiet but absolute.

”Yes, boss.”

Marcus lingered a moment longer, clearly debating whether to say something else, before apparently deciding against it, giving a short nod and turning to head back toward the house himself.

Viktor stayed behind in the training yard a little while longer, alone now, the morning sun climbing higher overhead, the faint smell of gunpowder still hanging in the air from Sienna’s earlier practice shot. He glanced toward the flower pot she had aimed at first, then toward the empty space where he himself had stood, patient and unflinching, daring her to pull the trigger.

She hadn’t. Not even close.

But she also hadn’t hesitated the way most people would have, hadn’t trembled, hadn’t looked away.

Whoever Sienna Vale had been before she became his wife, before Simon, before the mafia, before any of the pieces of her life he thought he understood, Viktor was beginning to suspect that version of her had learned to survive in a world just as dangerous as his own.

He turned finally and made his way back toward the house, his mind already working through a dozen different threads at once. The Capri meeting tonight. Aliya, and whatever careful, distasteful game Marcus was suggesting he play with her. And now this, a wife with no past, no records, no answers, just a gun tucked neatly into her waistband and a steady hand that hadn’t shaken once.

Whatever secrets Sienna was carrying, Viktor intended to find every last one of them. Not because he didn’t trust her.

Because, more and more, he was beginning to realize just how much he did.