Chapter 173: Make yourself comfortable

"You," Aliya snapped at a maid standing frozen near the kitchen door. The girl flinched. "Get my room ready for me. The best room. Now."

The maid nodded quickly and hurried away, her footsteps echoing down the corridor.

Aliya turned next to the men in white, waving a lazy hand toward the wide, open space of the hall as though she were welcoming guests to her own party.

"Make yourselves comfortable," she said. Her voice was light now, almost cheerful, the anger from moments ago already tucked away somewhere behind her painted smile.

Marcel stepped forward at last, clearing his throat. "This way," he said to the men, gesturing toward the far hall. "I’ll show you where the guards stay."

The men in white moved as one, quiet and orderly, spreading out through the mansion like water finding every crack in a stone floor.

Some drifted toward the east wing. Others took up positions near the doors, the windows, the long staircase that curved up toward the bedrooms. Within minutes, the Kessler mansion no longer felt like Viktor’s home. It felt like occupied ground.

Don Capri watched it all from near the fireplace, his arms folded, a slow and satisfied smile spreading across his face. Beside him, Elena’s eyes gleamed with quiet triumph, as though she were watching the final piece of a long, patient game slide neatly into place.

Everything, it seemed, was going exactly according to plan.

–

Sienna’s eyelids fluttered. The room came into focus slowly, soft edges sharpening one by one the pale curtains, the dim light, and then, closest of all, Viktor’s face hovering above her. His brow was creased tight with worry, his eyes searching hers like he was afraid of what he might find there.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice quieter than she had ever heard it. "Why do you keep fainting? You don’t need this stress. I’ll get you to another place."

He slipped an arm beneath her, already trying to lift her again, as though moving her far enough away might undo everything that had happened downstairs.

"It’s only us now," Sienna said. Her voice was faint, but steady. "You know that will be hard. We can’t leave. They’re holding us hostage."

"No," Viktor said. "They are not." He said it firmly, almost sharply, as though saying it with enough certainty might make it true.

"With one phone call, all of them will be out on the street," he said. "I still have my men."

He reached for his phone. His thumb moved fast over the screen, dialing a number he knew by heart the number of his most trusted crew, the ones he called his gallon boys, the ruthless army that had stood behind him through every war before this one.

The line connected. He pressed the phone to his ear.

"I need you to gather the boys," he said, his voice low and controlled, "and come over to my house. This minute."

There was a pause. A voice answered on the other end, hesitant.

"Yes, boss. But... about two days ago, all the boys started leaving. Don Capri told them there was new power in town, boss. You know the mansion of Don Konstantin. It put fear in them. So they switched sides."

Silence fell over the room, thick and sudden.

"They what?" Viktor’s voice exploded. The words tore out of him, raw and furious, echoing off the walls. His whole body went rigid, every muscle coiled like a spring pulled too tight.

Sienna reached out, her fingers wrapping gently around his forearm. It was a small touch, but it was enough. She felt the tension in his arm beneath her hand, felt it slowly, slowly begin to ease.

He did not storm out. He did not go looking for someone to kill, dragging his own life down with theirs. He stayed.

"We always find a way," Sienna said softly. "Now it’s only the three of us. And we stick together. We will not handle this the way you handle other conflicts."

Viktor let out a long breath. He sank down beside her, both hands rising to cup her face, gentle now, careful, as if she were something that might break.

"I know," he said. "I’m only worried about you. I cannot have you stay in the same house as them."

"I can take care of myself, Viktor," she said, meeting his eyes.

"I know you can." His thumbs brushed lightly across her cheekbones. "But I promised to protect you. Always. I promised to keep you safe. And this house it is not safe anymore."

"Stop worrying about me for a second," she said, "and think about how we handle this."

He let out a breath that was almost a laugh, though there was no humor in it. "Fine." He glanced at her, softer now. "I guess you didn’t have lunch. I’ll go get you something."

He rose slowly from the bed, his hand lingering on hers for one last second before letting go.

"Please," he said, "don’t come out. I promise I will handle this mess."

Sienna opened her mouth to argue. But her stomach chose that moment to remind her, quietly, that she had not eaten all day.

She only nodded.

"Stay here," Viktor said to Marcus, his eyes lingering on Sienna for one more moment before he stepped out of the room and pulled the door quietly shut behind him.

The click of the latch seemed louder than it should have been in the silence that followed.

Sienna shifted against the pillows, watching Marcus settle into the chair near the window. He moved the way soldiers do, economical, unhurried, always half-aware of the door even when he wasn’t looking at it.

"You must be frustrated," she said, "having to babysit me in my own room now."

A faint smile touched the corner of Marcus’s mouth. It was small, but it reached his eyes in a way that surprised her.

"Not at all, Mrs. Kessler," he said.