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

”I’m starving,” Aria said instead, standing up fast and grabbing Sienna’s arm, steering her firmly toward the stairs before any more questions could be asked. ”Let’s go eat. Now. I mean it. I might actually pass out.”

Sienna let herself be pulled along, though the suspicion didn’t fade from her expression, filing the moment away carefully for later, certain that whatever secret conversation had just happened behind her back, it was one both Viktor and Aria intended to keep from her for as long as they possibly could.

—

They were served a lovely meal not long after, the table set with more food than either of them could possibly finish, steam curling gently off the dishes as they sat down across from each other.

Aria dug in almost immediately, clearly having meant it when she said she was starving, while Sienna mostly pushed her food around her plate, her fork tracing slow, distracted circles through the sauce without ever lifting much of anything to her mouth.

Aria noticed, of course. She always noticed.

She assumed, watching Sienna’s quiet, distant expression, that her friend was still turning over whatever suspicion had settled into her mind after catching the tail end of that hallway conversation, still worried, maybe, that Aria had said something to hurt her, or worse, betrayed some trust between them without meaning to.

”Sienna,” Aria said gently, setting down her fork. ”You know I love you, right?”

Sienna glanced up, surprised by the sudden earnestness in her friend’s voice. ”I know, Aria,” she said slowly. ”My uncle and I were just...”

Aria stopped herself abruptly, catching the slip almost as fast as it left her mouth, but Sienna had already dropped her own fork onto the plate with a soft clink, her full attention now locked onto Aria’s face.

Aria cleared her throat quickly, deciding, in that split second, that changing the subject entirely was probably her safest option. ”So,” she said instead, forcing brightness back into her tone. ”What do you think the Capris even want with a meeting like this?”

Sienna let the earlier slip go, for now, though she filed it away carefully alongside everything else. ”I met Aliya once,” she said instead, sighing. ”She’s a genuinely horrible person. I can only imagine what her father must be like.”

Aria let out a long breath, relief flooding through her that the conversation had shifted away from anything dangerous.

”Who cares,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. ”You have my uncle. And I’m coming too. It’s a party, and I’m pretty sure my parents will be there as well.” She grinned, leaning forward.

”And Aliya? She’s just a desperate girl who can’t take a hint. You can handle her, trust me. So relax. And honestly, if you wanted to, you could start an entire war tonight, and my uncle would finish it for you without blinking.”

Sienna raised an eyebrow. ”That’s not exactly comforting.”

”It should be,” Aria said, propping her chin on her hand, a dreamy, dramatic sigh escaping her.

”That man would do absolutely anything for you. Do you remember all those novels we used to read back in school? The toxic princes who protected the girl no matter what, laid the entire world at her feet, spoiled her rotten even while the rest of the story fell apart around them?” She let out a soft, wistful groan. ”You basically married one. In real life.”

”Be serious, Aria,” Sienna said, though a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth despite herself. ”This isn’t a joke. That only happens in fiction. It’s not fun in real life.”

”That’s only because you haven’t let yourself enjoy it yet,” Aria teased, waggling her eyebrows.

”Stop talking like your uncle is in love with me,” Sienna said, shaking her head firmly, though her cheeks had already begun warming despite her best effort.

Aria opened her mouth, clearly gearing up for one of her long, theatrical lectures on the subject, but before she could get more than a breath into it, Sienna raised her palm flat between them, a clear, practiced signal from years of friendship.

”Please don’t start,” she said, shaking her head.

Aria closed her mouth immediately, though she couldn’t quite suppress the knowing grin still tugging at her lips.

”Fine,” she said instead, clapping her hands together and standing up from the table so abruptly her chair nearly toppled backward.

”Hurry up and finish. We need to pick out what you’re wearing tonight. I’m thinking white. Or maybe blue.” She tapped a finger thoughtfully against her chin. ”Even though it’s technically a black tie party.”

Sienna blinked, then slowly smiled, something rebellious and pleased flickering behind her eyes at the idea. There was something deeply satisfying, she realized, about the thought of walking into a room full of powerful, dangerous people, all dressed in careful, expected black, and standing out from every single one of them on purpose.

”I like that idea,” Sienna said, pushing back from the table and following Aria toward the stairs. ”Let’s break a few rules tonight.”

”You know,” Sienna said as they climbed the stairs together, ”thanks to you, there’s an entire collection waiting upstairs. I’m sure we can find something that defies every single rule that party expects us to follow.”

She was already picturing it in her mind, the way heads would turn the moment she walked through the door, the small, satisfying shock on every carefully composed face in that room. It felt good, imagining that. Better than she expected.

They reached the master bedroom a few minutes later, and just like before, Aria stopped dead at the door, refusing to cross it.

”Stop being ridiculous,” Sienna said, laughing, tugging gently at her friend’s arm. ”I sleep in this room alone. It’s fine. Nothing scandalous has happened in here.”

That was, admittedly, a small lie. A very small one. Sienna wasn’t about to mention the punishment, or the way Viktor’s hand had traced against her chest, or the handful of charged, breathless moments that had passed between them in this very room over the last few weeks.

If Aria found out about any of that, she would never stop talking about it, would probably narrate every single detail back to Sienna in exhausting, theatrical detail for weeks. So Sienna kept the count of stolen glances and almost-kisses locked carefully behind her own teeth.

”Nothing at all?” Aria asked, though she was already stepping past Sienna into the room without waiting for a proper answer, entirely unaware that she had just crossed into the private chambers of one of the most dangerous men in the entire country, a privilege very few people outside his own inner circle had ever been granted.

”Nothing,” Sienna said firmly. ”Now stop drooling and help me find a dress.”

”Fine, fine,” Aria said, grinning, already moving toward the closet, pulling open the doors to reveal row after row of clothing, most of it still tagged, still fresh from their shopping trip the day before. She dug through hangers with the same focused determination she’d shown at the mall, tossing aside option after option, until finally, with a triumphant little gasp, she pulled one free.

”This is it,” Aria declared, holding it up for Sienna to see, a deep, rich blue gown, sleek and daring, the fabric catching the light in a way that made it shimmer faintly with every small movement. ”This dress is screaming dare me. I love it.”

Sienna stepped closer, running her fingers over the fabric, and felt something warm settle in her chest, the strange, unexpected pull of actually agreeing with one of Aria’s picks for once.

”I love it too,” Sienna admitted, a little surprised at herself. She had never once, in all their years of friendship, thought she would find herself saying yes so easily to something Aria pulled out of a closet. ”This is perfect.”

There was a soft knock at the door before either of them could say anything else. Two of the new maids stepped inside, heads bowed politely, informing Sienna that Viktor had sent for two of the city’s most sought-after stylists, a hairdresser and a makeup artist, both already waiting downstairs to help her get ready for the evening.

Sienna blinked, caught off guard, but nodded slowly, thanking the maids and asking them to give her a few more minutes, and asking them to bring them to the small sitting area just outside the bedroom.

”Wait, what?” Aria said the moment the maids disappeared, rounding on Sienna with wide eyes. ”My uncle sent the most famous hairstylist and makeup artist in the entire country. For you. Girl, I am so jealous right now, you have no idea.”

Sienna shook her head slowly, genuinely surprised herself, a strange, warm confusion settling somewhere beneath her ribs.

Why was Viktor going to such lengths for her? She was, at the end of the day, still technically just the woman he had kidnapped and forced into a marriage, the same woman who had escaped her own death with a blood bag and a pile of pillows only two days ago.

And yet here he was, sending for the best in the entire city just to make sure she looked perfect for a party she hadn’t even wanted to attend in the first place.