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

And then the two of them swept out of the room together, leaving Sienna standing alone, the file trembling slightly in her hands, her mind a chaotic storm of fear for herself and something new, something unexpected, a fierce, protective panic settling deep in her chest at the thought of Viktor’s entire world collapsing because of a truth he likely didn’t even know himself.

The door hadn’t even fully closed behind them before it opened again.

”Sienna?”

Aria appeared in the doorway, having clearly caught sight of Elena and Aliya storming past her in the hallway moments before, her earlier bright, teasing energy completely gone now, replaced by sharp, immediate concern the moment she took in Sienna’s pale face and shaking hands.

”Oh my god,” Aria said, hurrying across the small room and gripping Sienna’s shoulders. ”Are you okay? Girlfriend, are you okay? What did they say to you?”

”I’m okay,” Sienna said quickly, though her voice still carried a faint tremor she couldn’t quite smooth away. ”I just need to get out of here.”

”Sure, sure, dear,” Aria said gently, wrapping an arm around her and guiding her toward the door.

Her eyes caught briefly on the folded corner of paper Sienna had tucked carefully into the fabric of her dress, the same file Aliya had handed her only moments ago.

Aria didn’t ask about it, not yet. She had seen enough to know it mattered, and she knew Sienna well enough to understand that whatever it contained, dragging the truth out of her here, in the middle of a room full of watching eyes, would only make things worse.

There would be time for questions once they were safely away from all of this.

They walked back out into the main party together, and once again, Sienna felt every eye in the room shift toward her the moment she reappeared, the same watchful, calculating curiosity from earlier settling heavier now across her shoulders.

Aria moved off briefly to retrieve her bag, promising to be quick, and it was in that small window of solitude that Sienna spotted Viktor crossing the room toward her with long, purposeful strides, his expression tight and controlled in a way that told her exactly how close he was to losing that control entirely.

”Ready to leave?” he asked, stopping in front of her, his eyes searching her face carefully.

”Yes, please,” Sienna said, trying hard to steady her own breathing, to keep whatever was left of her composure intact for just a little while longer.

”Good,” Viktor said, already turning to guide her toward the exit.

They hadn’t taken more than a few steps before Don Capri appeared, blocking their path with an easy, practiced smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

”Come now, let’s take a photograph together,” he said smoothly, gesturing toward a small cluster of photographers stationed near the far wall. ”For the papers, of course. Good publicity for both our families.”

Viktor’s jaw tightened visibly, and for one brief, dangerous second, Sienna could see exactly how close he was to reaching for the weapon she knew he always kept hidden somewhere beneath his jacket. Whatever restraint he was managing to hold onto in that moment felt paper-thin.

Across the room, Marcus’s eyes found Viktor immediately, wide and pointed, practically begging him not to do anything reckless in the middle of a room full of witnesses.

Viktor exhaled slowly through his nose and stepped forward instead, allowing Don Capri to steer him toward the photographers, his smile tight and entirely fake as the camera flashed.

”Aliya, darling, come join us,” Don Capri called out proudly, waving his daughter over. ”We’re one big happy family, after all.”

”Yes, Daddy,” Aliya said, adjusting her dress and hurrying over eagerly, sliding into place beside Viktor and resting one hand delicately against his chest as the cameras continued clicking away.

Both of their eyes drifted toward Sienna, standing off to the side. Aliya’s expression carried the smug, satisfied gleam of a woman who believed she had already won something important.

Viktor’s, by contrast, carried something far darker, an unspoken promise directed entirely at Sienna. Say the word, his eyes seemed to say, and I will end this. All of it. Right here. I don’t care who’s watching or what it costs me.

Aria had drifted back to Sienna’s side by then, and Sienna felt a small, unwelcome sting somewhere in her chest at the sight of Aliya’s hand pressed so casually against Viktor’s chest, though she quickly reminded herself she had no real right to feel jealous over any of it.

There were far more important things happening tonight than her own tangled, complicated feelings.

Especially because the man with the large tattoo across his face, the one who had sent her fleeing to the powder room in the first place, hadn’t seen her yet.

”Who is that man,” Sienna asked quietly, nodding subtly toward him, ”with the large tattoo on his face?”

It was an old habit between them, this careful, quiet way of pointing people out to each other, a skill they had both perfected years ago back in school, gossiping about strangers without ever letting those strangers know they were being discussed.

Aria pretended to adjust something on her own dress, turning slightly as she stole a longer, more thorough glance in the man’s direction.

”I’ll find out,” Aria said finally, turning back to Sienna. ”But first, you need to get up there, Mrs. Kessler. Aliya has her hands all over your husband right now.”

”Seriously, stop,” Sienna said, shaking her head.

”Go,” Aria said, giving her a small, insistent push. ”Now.”

”No,” Sienna said, resisting for a moment longer.

But then, almost without deciding to, she was already moving, some instinct taking over that she didn’t fully understand herself, some sharp, protective flare rising up beneath her ribs.

The tattooed man had just stepped away to take a phone call, disappearing briefly toward a quiet corner of the room, and something about that small window of opportunity pushed Sienna forward before she could talk herself out of it.