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

”Don Capri,” Viktor said, shaking his hand with the same careful, controlled ease he brought to every interaction like this. ”Thank you for the invitation.”

”Of course, of course,” Don Capri said, waving a hand dismissively, as though the meeting had been nothing more than a casual social gesture rather than the carefully orchestrated summons it clearly was. His eyes flicked briefly toward Viktor again.

”Actually, Viktor, could I steal you away for just a moment? There’s something I’d like to discuss.” He offered a small, knowing smile. ”Come now, this is men’s talk. Nothing that needs to concern the ladies.”

Sienna felt Viktor’s hand tighten almost imperceptibly around hers. She could sense the reluctance rolling off him in quiet waves, the careful way his jaw tightened, the brief, searching glance he gave her before answering.

But she also understood, without needing to be told, exactly why he couldn’t refuse. Whatever fragile peace still existed between the Kessler and Capri families depended, at least for tonight, on Viktor playing along.

”I’m okay,” Sienna said quietly, giving his hand a small, reassuring squeeze. ”I’ll go find Aria.”

Viktor studied her a moment longer, something unspoken passing behind his eyes, before he leaned down and pressed a soft, brief kiss to her forehead.

”I won’t be long,” he murmured.

Then he was gone, following Don Capri deeper into the house, leaving Sienna standing alone near the entrance of a party full of people she barely knew, in a world she still hadn’t fully learned to navigate on her own.

She lifted her chin and walked further into the grand ballroom, doing her best to look composed despite the sudden absence of Viktor’s steady presence beside her.

The room wasn’t as crowded as she expected, though the guests who were there carried themselves with the kind of quiet, watchful intensity that made it clear every single person here held some measure of dangerous influence. And nearly all of them, she quickly realized, had their eyes on her.

It didn’t surprise her. She was, after all, standing out completely, the only splash of deep blue in an otherwise sharply enforced sea of black. She kept her head high anyway, refusing to shrink beneath the weight of so much curious, assessing attention.

She spotted Aria near one of the tall windows and lifted a hand to wave, already moving in that direction, relief flooding through her at the sight of a familiar, friendly face.

But before she could cross the distance between them, Aria’s mother appeared suddenly at her daughter’s side, gripping her arm and pulling her firmly aside for some urgent, whispered conversation, leaving Sienna standing alone in the middle of the crowded ballroom.

Sienna dropped her gaze for a moment, glancing down at her own hands, steadying her breathing, reminding herself that this was only temporary, that Viktor would be back soon, that Aria would find her again the moment her mother released her from whatever lecture was currently unfolding.

When she lifted her head again, her eyes swept casually across the room.

And then they stopped.

A man stood near the far side of the ballroom, half turned away from her, deep in conversation with two others she didn’t recognize. But something about the line of his shoulders, the particular way he tilted his head while he spoke, the sharp angle of his jaw catching the light, sent a jolt of pure, cold recognition slamming through Sienna’s chest.

She knew him.

She knew him, and every cell in her body screamed at her at once, a wave of dizzy, nauseating fear crashing over her so suddenly that she nearly stumbled where she stood.

Her hands began to shake, small tremors she couldn’t fully control, no matter how hard she pressed her fingers together, willing them still.

Not now. Not here. Not in the middle of a room full of the most dangerous people in the entire city, with Viktor nowhere in sight, with Aria still trapped in conversation across the room, with nothing but her own two feet to carry her away from whatever was about to happen if that man turned around and recognized her too.

She could not fall apart. Not now.

Sienna forced herself to turn slowly, deliberately, careful not to draw any more attention than she already had, and began walking toward the far side of the ballroom, her heart hammering so violently against her ribs that she could hear the rush of blood pounding in her own ears.

She needed air. She needed distance. She needed a moment, just one moment, to catch her breath and force her racing pulse back down into something manageable before her body betrayed her completely in front of every single person watching.

There had to be a restroom somewhere in a house this large. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere private. Somewhere, she could stand alone for thirty seconds and remind herself how to breathe properly again.

She slipped through a side archway, away from the thickest cluster of guests, moving quickly now, her heels clicking softly against polished marble as she made her way down a long, dimly lit hallway lined with expensive artwork and closed doors.

Her mind raced the entire way, cycling frantically back through the reason she had dropped out of medical school two years ago and never looked back.

She had thought, foolishly, that leaving that life behind meant leaving him behind too.

Apparently, she had been wrong.

Sienna finally spotted a door at the end of the hallway with a small, discreet sign indicating a powder room, and she pushed through it quickly, closing the door softly behind her, pressing her back flat against the cool wood, and finally allowing herself to breathe.

The room was small but elegant, with soft lighting, a large gilded mirror, and the faint scent of expensive perfume still lingering in the air from whoever had used it before her.

Sienna crossed to the sink and gripped the edge of the marble counter with both hands, staring at her own reflection, watching as her chest rose and fell too quickly, too shallowly, her carefully applied makeup doing little to hide the pale, stricken look that had settled over her face.

”Breathe,” she whispered to herself, closing her eyes. ”Just breathe. He didn’t see you. He didn’t see you.”

But even as she said the words, some deep, instinctive part of her refused to believe them completely, some old, buried fear rising back up from wherever she had spent the last two years trying desperately to bury it.

Whoever that man was, whatever he represented from a life she had worked so hard to escape, Sienna knew, with a cold, sinking certainty, that finding him here tonight, in the middle of a Capri family gathering, was no coincidence at all.

And if he was here, that meant someone, somewhere, already knew exactly where to find her.