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

Sienna turned her face away, toward the wall, unable to watch her mother leave a second time in one morning. Aria stepped closer and wrapped an arm around her, holding her steady, though even now, even in this moment, Aria’s eyes had already drifted sideways, toward Manuel, taking their own quiet inventory of him.

Helena was not finished. She turned next toward Viktor, and something in her posture changed, drew tighter, more dangerous, the softness she had shown Sienna gone completely from her face.

”You better take care of my daughter,” she said, low and even. ”If even a strand of her hair goes missing, I will put a bullet between your eyes.”

Viktor looked at her for a long moment. A dozen things rose up in his chest at once, wanting out. He wanted to tell her, first, that he was not a man who took well to threats, that no one spoke to him this way and walked away from it easily.

And second, that she did not need to threaten him at all, because if anyone ever dared to hurt Sienna, he would be the one to burn the entire world down to ash trying to find them.

But before either thought could find its way into words, before he had even opened his mouth, Helena was already gone. She slipped away down the hall like a shadow retreating from light, there one second and simply not there the next.

”You...” Viktor started, and then stopped, staring at the empty space where she had been standing only a breath ago, still trying to understand how someone could move that fast, that quietly.

Sienna tried not to look at the empty hallway. She kept her eyes down, her arms crossed tight over her chest.

Beside her, Aria was still watching Manuel, her head tilted slightly, a small smile playing at her lips. ”Hi,” she whispered, leaning close to Sienna’s ear. ”Who is that cute man?”

”Seriously, Aria,” Sienna said, deliberately not looking in the direction Aria was looking, though she already knew exactly who had caught her friend’s eye without needing to check. ”He’s Manuel. Marcus’s younger brother.”

”The ice face has a charming younger brother,” Aria said, not bothering to lower her voice this time. It was meant for Sienna’s ears only, a private little comment, but the hallway was quiet enough, and Aria’s voice was not, and everyone in the room heard it clearly. Manuel’s smile widened.

”Hey,” he said, stepping forward slightly. ”I’m Manuel.”

”Hi, handsome,” Aria said, her chin lifting, a playful confidence sliding easily back into her voice. ”I’m Aria. Not that you don’t already know that but my close friends call me Riri.”

”Well, I do. Nice to meet you, Aria,” Manuel said, his smile turning into something a little more amused, a little more interested.

”Great,” Aria said, matching it with a soft smile of her own.

Then her eyes drifted past him, toward Viktor, and met his gaze. It was cold, flat, unreadable, and Aria’s smile faded the second it landed on him.

”Go get your things,” Viktor said to her. ”You’ll stay with us for a few days.”

Both Aria and Sienna turned to look at him at the exact same moment, wearing the exact same expression, the kind of look that did not need words to ask its question: who exactly did he think he was, giving orders like that.

”Move it,” Viktor said, when neither of them moved.

Aria did not move. She crossed her arms instead, planting her feet a little wider, the way she always did when she had decided she was not going anywhere. ”Wait, Uncle. Just like that?” she said. ”That’s funny. After lying to us, you think you can say let’s go home, and it’s done?”

”Who lied to you?” Viktor said, his tone flat, though something behind his eyes shifted, wary now. ”Or who are you referring to when you say us?”

”I mean Sienna, of course,” Aria said, as though it were obvious.

Sienna had lowered herself onto the couch at some point without anyone quite noticing, her arms still crossed, her eyes fixed on some point on the floor. Viktor turned toward her now, his whole posture softening, the sharp edges of the man who had walked in with a gun raised falling away completely.

”Baby,” he said, his voice low. ”I’m sorry. Last night was the worst night of my life. I broke your trust, and I’m sorry.” He paused, choosing his next words slowly and carefully.

”I know saying sorry doesn’t fix things. And I also know your forgiveness will be my ultimate gift. But I won’t rush it.” He crossed the room and knelt slightly in front of her, bringing his eyes level with hers. ”Can we start again? Please.”

He held his hand out to her, open, waiting.

”Hey. Katalia Ivanov.” He said it slowly and carefully. ”I’m Viktor Kessler. Your betrothed. It’s my pleasure to meet you.” He said it as though they were strangers, as though none of the past months between them had happened at all, as though this were a real introduction, a chance to begin from nothing.

Sienna looked at him. His hand stayed there, open, between them. Then her eyes moved past him, to Aria, searching her face for something, an answer maybe, or permission.

Aria shook her head, slow and firm.

Sienna said nothing. She rose from the couch on her own, without taking his hand, and walked past him.

”Baby, please,” Viktor said, turning to follow her with his eyes. ”Can we go back home? You can be mad at me there. Please.”

Sienna looked at Aria again. Aria’s face twisted into something sharp and unimpressed, a look that needed no words at all.

Sienna said nothing. She kept walking, out of the room, her steps steady and unhurried.

Viktor moved to go after her, but Aria stepped directly into his path, planting herself there, small but immovable.

”You are overstepping, Aria,” Viktor said, his voice dropping low, dangerous now. ”This is none of your business. You want me to help you join your parents? I can gladly do that.”