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

”I highly doubt that,” Sienna said, though there was no real certainty in her voice, only the practiced steadiness of someone who had spent years learning to sound sure of things she wasn’t.

”And as I told you, I don’t have memories of my childhood before I was five. That’s when I was found and adopted. So I wouldn’t even be able to tell you if it were true.” She drew in a slow breath, feeling something tighten in her chest at the admission.

”But I think this man will have answers we need. We just need to approach him carefully.”

She hesitated, watching Viktor’s face for a moment before she continued, something raw creeping into her tone now, the kind of honesty she hadn’t let herself offer anyone in a long time.

”You’ll be happy to know he was once at my adoptive parents’ house,” she said, a bitter edge slipping into the words.

”And because of him, I lost my adoptive brother.” Her jaw tightened, memory flickering behind her eyes, quick and painful.

”He was at my school too. That’s why I dropped out of medical school they were chasing me. I don’t know why. I don’t know what they want from me.” She shook her head slowly, frustration and old fear tangled together in equal measure.

”If that man was at the library, it was probably to get rid of me. But something about it has never made sense. They never actually tried to kill me. If they wanted me dead, they would have done it a hundred times over by now.” Her voice dropped, quieter, more unsettled.

”They wanted to capture me instead. And every time I managed to run, they killed anyone who tried to get in their way.”

For the first time since she’d known him, Sienna was opening up completely, the walls she usually kept so carefully in place lowering just enough to let him see the fear she’d been carrying alone for years.

Viktor’s expression had gone very still as he listened, something sharp and protective settling behind his eyes.

”It could be they know your family,” he said slowly, ”or that they are your family. But we have to approach that with caution.” His voice shifted then, quick and decisive, the warmth of the last three days giving way entirely to the commanding edge she recognized from the mansion.

”First thing, we get out of here. We don’t have enough men on this property. An attack here would be brutal. We need to leave. Now.”

”Okay.” Sienna was already moving, picking and tucking her laptop under her arm, nodding to the guards who moved quickly to gather their bags.

They made it as far as the front steps.

The cold mountain air that had felt so peaceful only moments ago turned suddenly, sharply hostile, the crunch of gravel under too many unfamiliar boots, shadows breaking from the tree line at the edge of the property in numbers that hadn’t been there an hour before.

Before Sienna could fully register what was happening, they were surrounded, a tight, closing ring of armed men emerging from every direction, and at the center of them, stepping forward with an unhurried, almost lazy confidence, was Fabio Fernandez himself.

Guns rose in near-perfect unison, leveled at Viktor and Sienna both, the quiet beauty of the mountains suddenly feeling like nothing more than a very pretty, very isolated trap.

The moment the first shadow broke from the tree line, Viktor moved.

He had Sienna behind him before she even fully registered the danger, one arm sweeping back to pin her against the solid wall of his back while his other hand drew a gun from beneath his jacket in a single, fluid motion, leveling it at the man now stepping calmly out of the gathering ring of gunmen.

Fabio Fernandez did not look like a man walking into an ambush of his own making. He walked like a man who owned the mountain beneath his feet, unhurried, hands loose at his sides, a faint, unreadable smile playing at the corner of his mouth as if the dozen guns aimed at his chest were nothing more than an inconvenience.

”I come in peace,” Fabio said, his voice smooth, almost pleasant, carrying easily across the tense stretch of gravel between them. ”I just want to know what happened to my son.”

Sienna’s pulse hammered against her ribs. From behind Viktor’s shoulder, she could see the way the man’s guards fanned out at the edges of the property, cutting off every clean line of retreat, boxing them in against the cabin with a patience that unsettled her more than shouting or violence ever could have.

This wasn’t a man who’d stumbled onto them in a panic. This was a man who had planned this arrival down to the last detail.

”Your son was found in my territory,” Viktor said, his voice flat, controlled, giving away nothing. ”You know what that means.”

Something flickered across Fabio’s face, not quite grief, not quite rage, something colder and more calculating than either. ”You mean he’s dead.”

”I can’t confirm that.”

The two men stood there, guns leveled, the silence between them stretched taut as wire. Sienna could feel the tension radiating off Viktor’s back, every muscle coiled and ready, and she understood with a sick, sinking clarity that one wrong word from either side could turn this quiet mountain clearing into a slaughter.

”Well, find out,” Fabio said at last, his smile never quite reaching his eyes. ”I only want answers.”

It was a lie. Sienna knew it. She was almost certain Viktor knew it too, she could feel it in the way his shoulders didn’t loosen even a fraction at the words.

A man like Fabio Fernandez didn’t cross into hostile territory with a dozen armed men just for answers. He wanted proof.

He wanted his son’s body laid at his feet, and the head of whoever had taken him from this world, and he wanted it soon.

”I’ll find out what happened to him,” Viktor said instead, voice even, giving Fabio nothing to hold onto. ”But my wife isn’t feeling well. She needs to get home and rest.”