The Mafia King of Philadelphia: From witness to his doted wife
Chapter 79: Oh, dear
"Language," Viktor said mildly, though there was the faintest twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth.
"Oh my god," Aria said, dragging both hands down her face. "Oh my god, this is a disaster. This is such a disaster."
Sienna, still frozen where she stood, could only stare at Viktor, her mind racing through every possible reason this could be happening, every possible danger this new twist might bring.
If Aria were Viktor’s family, then Aria had never truly been safe from all of this either. None of it had ever been as simple, or as separate, as Sienna had let herself believe.
"How did you find me?" she finally managed to ask, her voice quiet but steady now, some of her earlier fear hardening into something closer to resolve.
Viktor’s eyes softened, just slightly. "I didn’t have to look very far," he said. "You ran straight into the one family in this city more tangled up in my world than my own."
Behind them, Mr. Cross cleared his throat loudly, clearly displeased with how much of this conversation was happening in his living room without his input. "Would someone," he said stiffly, "please explain to me exactly what is going on in my house?"
No one answered him right away. Sienna, Aria, and Viktor all stood there instead, caught in their own tangled silence, each of them turning over the same sudden, impossible truth. Whatever Sienna thought she had escaped, she had only run in a circle, straight back toward the very world she had been trying so hard to leave behind.
"Oh dear," Aria said again, still shaking her head slowly, like the words hadn’t sunk in the first time around. "Oh, dear."
For once, Aria seemed completely out of things to say. She stood frozen in the middle of the living room, her eyes darting between Sienna and her uncle, piecing together everything all over again, slower this time, more carefully.
"You married my mafia king uncle," she said, almost to herself, as if repeating it out loud might finally make it feel real. "You married Uncle Viktor."
"Yes, Aria," Sienna said quietly, her voice tight with nerves. "What do we do now?"
"Oh dear," Aria said a third time, and despite the fear clearly written across her own face, she squared her shoulders and stepped forward, spreading her arms wide, placing herself firmly between Sienna and Viktor like a small, stubborn wall.
"Aria, step aside," Mrs. Cross said sharply from the sofa, her voice carrying the particular tone mothers use when they expect to be obeyed without question.
"No," Aria said, and there was nothing playful left in her voice now. "No. Not until I understand what’s happening."
Viktor tilted his head slightly, studying his niece with an expression that gave nothing away, his face settling into something serious, unreadable.
Sienna’s stomach dropped. She had learned, in the short time she had known him, that this particular stillness in Viktor usually came right before something either very calm or very dangerous.
"I’ll come with you," Sienna said quickly, stepping around Aria before anything could happen, her voice trembling despite her best effort to sound steady. "Just don’t hurt them. Please, Viktor. Don’t hurt them."
"No, Sienna," Aria said, reaching for her arm.
"It’s okay, Aria," Sienna said softly, giving her friend’s hand a small squeeze. "It’s okay."
Viktor’s eyes moved slowly over Sienna, taking in the fear still lingering in her posture, the way her shoulders had curled slightly inward, bracing for something. Then, unexpectedly, something shifted in his expression, the sharp edges softening just slightly.
"You want to go shopping in that?" he asked, nodding toward the short nightgown she still wore.
Sienna blinked, caught completely off guard. "What?" she asked, genuinely confused now. She had braced herself for anger, for punishment, for something sharp and cold, not this.
This was the maddening thing about Viktor, she was learning. Just when she thought she understood which way his mood was leaning, he would tilt sideways into something she never expected at all.
"Shopping?" Aria repeated, her whole face lighting up despite the tension still thick in the room. "Wow. Can I come?"
Viktor’s eyes flicked toward his niece, and his answer came quick and sharp. "No."
"Please," Sienna said quietly, glancing between the two of them, her voice low and careful, testing the ground beneath her words. "Can she come? Please, Viktor."
There was a small pause. Viktor’s gaze lingered on Sienna a moment longer than necessary, something unreadable passing behind his eyes.
"Fine," he said finally. "She can come."
Aria let out a small, delighted shriek, all traces of fear vanishing in an instant, replaced completely by pure excitement.
"Okay, let’s go get dressed," she said, already grabbing Sienna’s hand, tugging her back toward the bedroom before anyone in the room could change their mind.
The moment the bedroom door shut behind them, Aria rounded on Sienna, her eyes wide and bright.
"Okay," Aria whispered furiously, pulling open her closet doors and yanking out outfit after outfit.
"My uncle likes you. No, scratch that, he’s in love with you. Did you see his face while he was looking at you just now?" She shook her head, disbelief and delight tangled together in her voice.
"He was trying so hard to hide it, but I have known that man my entire life, Sienna. That was him fighting his own excitement."
"Aria..." Sienna started, but her friend was already talking again, barely pausing for breath.
"Oh my god, Sienna, you won the heart of the most powerful, richest, most dangerous man alive," Aria said, spinning around with a dress held up against her body, checking her reflection in the mirror without really looking at it at all.
"A while ago, I thought he was just a jerk, but now? Now he’s kind of charming, actually. Just not to me. Never to me. Only to you."
Sienna sat down slowly on the edge of Aria’s bed, her mind still spinning from everything that had happened in the last hour alone, from bloodstained bedsheets to iron gates to the impossible, tangled coincidence that had somehow tied her best friend’s family to the very man she had married.
Outside the door, she could still feel Viktor’s presence, patient and waiting, and despite every warning bell ringing in her mind, she couldn’t quite explain the small, traitorous flutter stirring somewhere behind her ribs at the thought of him fighting to hide his excitement over something as simple as a shopping trip.
Love was for the weak, she reminded herself, quiet and firm. But her heart, as always, where Viktor was concerned, did not seem to be listening.
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