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

Sienna drove with no place to go. She did not pick a road on purpose. Her hands turned the wheel when they needed to, and her foot pressed the pedal when it needed to, but her mind was somewhere far away, still standing inside the Kessler mansion, still hearing Viktor’s excuse and the weight of the truth she had just learned about.

The streets passed by her window like water. She did not see them. She did not see the lights change from red to green. She only saw, again and again, the same picture in her head, the picture that had broken something inside her chest.

She drove for a long time. Maybe it was one hour. Maybe it was more. She did not check.

When she finally looked up and noticed where she was, her car had stopped outside a tall iron gate. It was Aria’s house. Her hands must have driven her here without asking her mind for permission.

The guards at the gate knew her face. One of them leaned down to her window, said a quiet word, and waved her through. The gate opened slowly, like it was tired too.

It was past eleven at night. The long driveway was dark, lit only by small lamps along the path. Sienna parked the car and sat there for a moment, her hands still on the wheel, her heart beating hard and slow at the same time. Then she stepped out and walked to the front door.

Inside, the house was quiet in a way that felt wrong. Not because everyone in the house had gone to sleep it was a different kind of quiet, the kind that sits in a room after something has been taken from it and never given back.

The maids had already gone for the night. No lights were on. Sienna walked through the wide hall, her shoes making soft sounds on the floor, and there, in the middle of all that darkness, she saw Aria.

Aria was sitting on the floor near the bottom of the stairs, her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped around her legs. She was small like that, smaller than Sienna had ever seen her. The dark around her was so complete that for a second Sienna almost did not believe it was really her.

Sienna’s hand found the switch on the wall. She turned it on. Light spread through the hall. Aria did not move.

She did not blink. She did not turn her head. She did not even flinch, though the light was bright and sudden and should have made anyone look away. She kept staring forward, at nothing at the empty space in front of her, like the light did not reach the place where she actually was.

This was not the Aria that Sienna knew. The Aria she knew laughed loud and often. She talked with her hands. She filled a room the moment she walked into it. This girl on the floor was a different person wearing her face.

Sienna understood, in a slow and heavy way, what grief like this could do. Losing both parents at once was not a pain that fit inside words. It was not something a person could explain to someone who had not lived through it themselves. You could try to imagine it, but imagining was not the same as carrying it.

Sienna knew this because she carried her own kind of pain too, a different shape but just as heavy, and because she knew it, she did not rush toward Aria.

She did not say anything right away. She did not ask Aria to talk, or to eat, or to go to bed. She simply walked closer, slowly and carefully, and lowered herself down to sit on the floor beside her.

Even that did not pull a reaction from Aria. Not a turn of the head, much less a word. Aria kept looking into the emptiness in front of her, the emptiness that used to be a home filled with voices.

Sienna sat with her for a while in silence. Then, because the silence had grown too heavy to carry alone, she spoke.

”I wish I could kill the man responsible for the pain you are going through right now,” she said. Her voice was low. ”Believe me, I really want to. But he is too powerful, and as much as I want to, I can’t.”

She waited. Aria did not move.

”So if it will make you feel better,” Sienna went on, ”hurt me instead. Blame me, if you want to. Because the monster that put you through this,” her voice broke here, just slightly, ”is my father.”

The words hung in the empty hall.

”I’m so sorry, Aria,” Sienna said. Her tears were falling now, running down her face without her trying to stop them. ”You should hate me. I know that now. You would.”

For a long moment, nothing happened. Aria stayed exactly where she was, her eyes fixed on that same empty point in the room, and it looked, to Sienna, as if she were locked somewhere far away, somewhere dark, a place with no doors and no light, a place words could not reach.

Then, slowly, Aria’s eyes moved. Just slightly. Just enough.

And for the first time in a month, she spoke.

”I could never hate you,” Aria said. Her voice was thin, like it had not been used in a long time and was still remembering how. ”My friend. It’s never your fault. All of this was not your fault. You even risked your life to save me.”

Sienna looked at her. A small, sad smile came onto her face, the kind of smile that holds pain inside it instead of pushing the pain away. Both of them were hurting. But something in Aria’s words told Sienna that she was finding her way back, slowly, from wherever she had been.

”Aria, I’m so sorry,” Sienna said, and the tears came again, running down her face without her trying to stop them.

”Don’t,” Aria said. ”My father was no saint either. He brought this upon our family. My poor mother.” Her voice caught on the last words, and she stopped there, unable to finish the thought.

She cried, quiet and shaking, and Sienna cried with her, the two of them sitting close together in the bright hall that had been dark only minutes before.

After a while, Aria wiped her face with the back of her hand and spoke again. ”But killing him will give both of us some peace, right? He is the man after you.” She paused, and when she spoke next, there was a small frown on her face, the frown of someone trying to work out a puzzle.

”It doesn’t make sense. How did you find out? I thought it was Aliya that was the Don’s missing daughter.”

Sienna smiled a little at that. It was a tired smile, but a real one. This was the Aria she knew. Even now, even broken, even sitting on the floor of a house that had lost everything, Aria’s mind still asked questions. It still wanted to understand things.

”I’m more confused than ever,” Sienna said slowly. ”I don’t know what to believe. But I know I’m Katalia Ivanov. And Don Konstantin Ivanov could be my father. Or my uncle.”

Aria’s frown deepened. ”Wait, I’m confused,” she said, shaking her head a little, not quite able to follow.

”I found a picture,” Sienna said. ”There were two men. Ivanov men. Identical twins. And for the record, it’s Don Konstantin who is looking for a missing daughter. So it could be that he is my father. But I don’t know.” She stopped, searching for the right words, her eyes moving down to her hands.

”The feeling I had as a child, I don’t think a man like him was capable of that. I’m trying to explain it, but I don’t know if it makes sense.”

”What do you mean?” Aria asked, watching her closely now. ”What do you remember?”

”Warmth,” Sienna said. ”I was happy. I don’t think a man like him was capable of that kind of warmth.” She shook her head slowly.

”I was still a child then, so nothing is certain. But Viktor knew, and he said nothing. That much is certain. I’m Katalia Ivanov.”

Aria was quiet for a moment, taking this in. Then something in her face changed, a flicker of the old sharpness returning to her eyes.

”You mean Viktor knew and said nothing,” she said. It was not really a question.

”Let me guess. He was trying to protect you. Because he didn’t think you could handle knowing who your real family was. He decided for you.” She let out a breath that was almost a laugh, though there was no humor in it. ”I wonder why they always do that. Just like my father. I hate it.”

”Exactly my point,” Sienna said, her voice rising just a little, the anger under it finally finding a place to go. ”That was why I’m angry. He treats me like I’m no brain, like I can’t think or make a decision for myself. And that’s insulting. I hate it.”