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

Helena had not chosen to be here, or to be next to him, or to smile. She had done all of it because she had to. Every step up those white stairs was a step she had to force.

At the top, the front doors opened. The staff was waiting.

There were guards in white suits standing in two long lines. Maids in gray dresses with white aprons stood with their hands folded in front of them. There was an old man in a gray coat who could only be the butler.

As Konstantin came up the steps, they all bowed at once. They bent so low that Sienna could not see a single face. ”Welcome home, Don Konstantin,” the old man said. ”Welcome home, madam.”

Madam.

Helena’s smile did not move. But Sienna, watching from the bottom of the steps, saw her mother’s hand tighten on the Don’s sleeve for one second. It was a tiny thing. ”Thank you,” Helena said softly. ”It is good to be home.”

Her voice was perfect. It was warm and gentle, and it sounded like she meant every word. Sienna felt her stomach turn.

Then Konstantin stopped at the door and looked back over his shoulder. The lines of guards and maids were still bent low, waiting. He looked at Sienna. And Viktor. And Carina, who had just stepped out of her car.

”Come,” he said, and he smiled the warm, broken smile of a father who had found his daughter. ”Come in, all of you. This is your home too.” Every head in the long lines rose slowly. Every pair of eyes turned toward Sienna.

They were looking at Katalia Ivanou now. Sienna lifted her chin, took Viktor’s hand, and started up the white stairs.

Don Konstantin looked pleased. He stood at the top of the white steps with his hands folded, like a man admiring something he had just bought.

”Yes,” he said to no one in particular. ”This is my missing daughter.”

Then he turned to Sienna, and his voice went soft.

”Princess, why don’t you go and freshen up? It was a long flight. Please, rest.” He lifted one hand without looking, and a maid stepped forward at once. ”You. Take my princess to her room.”

Sienna did not answer. Her hand was still wrapped in Viktor’s. Along both sides of the doorway, the guards and maids bent low again. ”Welcome home, Miss Katalia Ivanou.”

The words rolled through the hall, one voice after another. It should have felt like a crown. It felt like a chain.

Sienna did not flinch. Her face stayed calm and blank, the way she had trained it. Don Konstantin saw this, and he smiled wider, as if her silence was something he was proud of.

”Please, come with me,” the old butler said, bowing. ”This way, miss.”

Sienna looked at Viktor.

He did not need to be asked. He stepped forward and took the lead, his hand still holding hers, and they followed the butler into the house.

Behind them, the Don’s smile stayed in place, but a small crack ran through it.

He had wanted to say something. The words were already on his tongue: Not the same room. She is my daughter. He can sleep somewhere else. He could almost hear himself saying it.

But he did not.

He looked at his daughter’s back and at the way she was standing, straight and cold, with her husband’s hand in hers. She was still very angry. He could feel it from here. If he pushed her now, she might break away and never come back.

Still, it bothered him. Viktor would be everywhere. He would be at her side at every meal, in every hallway, at every door. It would be hard to reach his daughter with that man always standing in between.

But not today, the Don thought. Today, let them rest.

Sienna looked back once from the stairs. She saw her father standing in the sunlight in his white suit. She saw her mother beside him. Then the butler turned a corner, and they were gone.

It was one o’clock in the afternoon.

In the great hall, Konstantin turned to Helena and took her hand again. His voice went low and warm. ”Helena, my dear. I really missed you.”

”Konstantin.”

”You have no idea how empty this house was.” Helena let him hold her hand. She lowered her eyes. ”Is she really our Katty?” she asked. Her voice was thin and shaky, like a woman trying not to fall apart. ”Is it truly her? I want to speak to her. Please. Let me go and speak to her.”

She said it like a broken mother looking for any excuse to leave the room. And that was exactly what she was.

Konstantin studied her face for a long moment. ”She is, my dear,” he said gently. ”She is really ours. Go. Speak to her.” He patted her hand.

”Maybe she will soften when she sees how much you love her. You remember, don’t you? She is the person you love the most in this world.”

He said the last part slowly. Helena heard what was under it. It was not a kind sentence. It was a leash, and he had just shown her how short it was.

She did not let it show. Her lips curved into a soft, believing smile, and she nodded like a wife who trusted every word.

”Yes,” she said. ”I remember.” She pulled her hand away, slowly, so it would not look like she was pulling away. Then she turned and followed the butler’s footsteps up the white stairs.

She did not look back. If she had, he would have seen her face.

Carina stayed behind.

She stood at the edge of the hall in her white dress with her hands clasped in front of her. Nobody had told her to stay. Nobody had told her to go.

Konstantin watched Helena until she was out of sight. Then the warmth drained out of his face, all at once, like water from a bath.

”Carina.”

”Don.”

”Come here.” She walked to him. Her steps were small and careful. The last of the maids slipped out of the hall and closed the great doors, and the house went very quiet.

The Don looked at his adopted daughter for a long time. She had never seen him look at her like this. It was not anger. It was worse. It was the look of a man counting something.

”Now,” he said softly. ”You and I are going to talk.” Carina swallowed.