Chapter 171: The rightful Mrs. Kessler

Viktor’s mind was already calculating distances, exits, weapons, numbers. But then he saw Sienna’s face. She wasn’t looking at him. She was staring at Aliya. Viktor took one slow step forward. His eyes never left Sienna.

"Baby." Sienna finally looked at him. And for the first time since Viktor had known her, he saw something in her eyes that made his stomach tighten.

Anger and Fear. Fear of what all of this meant. Viktor’s jaw clenched. His gaze shifted to Aliya. Then to Don Capri. Then to the men in white.

The room seemed to shrink around him. Whatever had brought them into his home, Viktor knew one thing immediately. They had made a very serious mistake. They had come into his house. And they had put their hands on his wife.

—--

Aliya sat down on the sofa. She made herself comfortable, like she owned the place.

"Well, there, Viktor," she said. "I should be jealous. Holding another woman in front of your fiancée is bad manners. It is disrespectful. But I am going to let it go, because you did not know."

Viktor did not look at her. His eyes stayed on Sienna.

"I’m going to kill her," he said. It was almost a whisper. He was talking to himself, not to anyone in the room.

But Sienna heard him. She leaned in close.

"And I will not even stop you," she whispered back. "But it seems we are too late. Out of the blue, she is Don Konstantin’s missing daughter. Your long-lost fiancée, I guess. We found her now. I think I was worried for nothing." She paused. "A snake wearing Prada."

"What’s funny?" Aliya asked. Her eyes moved from Viktor to Sienna and back again. "What are you two whispering about? You think I’m funny?"

Nobody answered her.

"Viktor," she said, "you will respect my daughter. You hear me? I mean, Don Konstantin’s daughter." Don Capri stepped forward. He spoke slowly, like a man who enjoyed the sound of his own warning.

"All your men have been wiped out," he said. "You don’t want to start a war with Don Konstantin. Do you?" Elena crossed her arms. She looked at Viktor the way someone looks at something they already own.

"You should count yourself lucky," she said. "Aliya still wants you. If she did not, you would lose everything. It won’t take long before we take full control of the Kessler empire. You will be nothing but Aliya’s house husband."

Marcel stood near the window. He did not say much. He was quiet, enjoying the new power that had landed in his hands, even if it was not fully his yet. Marcus said nothing at all. But inside, he was burning.

He could not take all of them out. Not today. Not with the men he had left. But he would not miss his target. Four bullets, he thought. One each for Don Capri, Aliya, Elena, and Marcel.

The same thought crossed Viktor’s mind, at the exact same moment. Viktor almost laughed. It was a short, cold sound.

"You are wishing for your death," he said, "walking into my home. Making my million-dollar tiles dirty with your grungy shoes. And giving me orders."

Aliya tilted her head. She looked at Viktor the way a cat looks at something small and cornered. "Death wish," she said slowly. "It seems you don’t know what is happening here."

She let the silence sit for a moment. Outside, somewhere far off, a car door closed more men in white. The sound drifted in through the tall windows and disappeared into the quiet of the room.

"Well," she went on, "you will understand soon enough."

She rose from the sofa. She smoothed the front of her dress with one hand, taking her time, as if the moment belonged only to her.

"I’m going to stay here," she said. "I mean all of us. This is going to be our new home now. If you have a problem with that, take it to my father." Viktor’s jaw tightened. He said nothing. He only watched her.

"No matter how reckless you are," Aliya continued, "how arrogant, or however much you think you love that... hmm... librarian wife of yours, you will not start a war for her. A war you cannot win."

She smiled, small and thin.

"But I would love to see you try. Nothing would give me more pleasure than tearing her apart myself."

For a moment, nobody moved. The room felt heavy, like the air before a storm.

Then Viktor stepped forward. He had heard enough. His hands curled into fists at his sides, and something dark passed behind his eyes.

But before he could reach her, the men in white surrounded him. They came from every corner of the room, from the hallway, from the shadows near the door. More than fifteen of them. In seconds, Viktor and Marcus stood alone in the middle of a circle of guns and cold, blank faces.

Sienna grabbed Viktor’s arm. She held him back, her fingers digging into his sleeve.

"I want the master’s bedroom," Aliya said, as if none of it concerned her. She turned and began walking toward the stairs, her heels tapping softly against the marble floor.

Viktor leaned close to Sienna. His voice was low, meant only for her. "I will get you out of here," he said. "I will handle these traitors." But Aliya heard him too. Of course she did. She always heard everything.

She stopped on the second step and turned back, slow and unhurried. "Take her where, Viktor?" she asked. "You don’t get it, do you? My father’s men are everywhere. I would love a good chase. That’s what we do, Viktor. We love to chase our prey."

She took one more step closer, her eyes never leaving his.

Sienna’s chin lifted. "She’s right, Viktor," she said quietly. "Besides, I’m not leaving my home for her. I’m not running, Miss Capri." She paused, tilting her head. "Oh... Miss what now?"

Her smile was soft. Too soft. Aliya’s eyes narrowed. "Miss Ivanov," she said. "Soon to be the rightful Mrs. Kessler."

"Yeah, sure. Miss Ivanov." Sienna’s voice stayed calm, almost gentle. "But I’m the Mrs. Kessler. That’s my name."

Something in Aliya’s face broke. The calm mask slipped, just for a second, and beneath it was something furious and raw. She lunged toward Sienna, her hand reaching out.

Viktor moved first. He stepped between them.