Page 188 of Mafia and Scars

“Don’t worry,” I mutter, scratching my jaw. “I haven’t forgotten about you. You get your own space too.”

And next to Sofia’s space, I start building a miniaturecatio—a little enclosed sun-trap area where Queenie can hide from the chaos in the compound yet still enjoy the sun and view of the outside.

I build a bench in front of the window and then construct a miniature turreted castle on top of it, with one side adjoining the pane of glass. I grab a spare pillow and fluffy blanket, and I put them inside to make it cozy for Queenie. I also add the plush, purple and gold cat ‘throne’ I got from the pet store—it’s amazing the stuff they design for pets these days. Then I add one of her teddy bears for her to snuggle up with. The men made fun of me when I bought some stuffed toys for Queenie, but she loves cuddling up with them. And as a finishing touch, I add a dangling toy shaped like a mouse.

“Okay, all finished,” I tell her two hours later.

Queenie sniffs it cautiously, her small pink snout twitching in an adorable way, walks around it twice, then scampers inside to claim her throne.

My mind wanders to Albert. He already has a doghouse in the yard, but now, I’m having ideas of building him something bigger too.

When Sofia walks in later, her little gasp makes my chest ache. “It’s…it’s…my very own den,” she exclaims in wonder. “It looks just like a pussycat palace.” She crawls straight inside, clutching a stuffed kitten to her chest, and Queenie settles in her catio like they’ve both found home. “I’m going to call it myMagic Meow House,” Sofia murmurs as she explores all the things inside it.

Avelina looks at me, her eyes shining. “You built them bothsafe spaces.”

I shrug, suddenly awkward. “Every princess and queen needs a castle.”

And Sofia’s reaction and the soft look Avelina gives me are better than any thank you I could ever receive.

At the weekend, Sofia plays at dressing up the animals again, and she announces that they are now ready for their photo with the humans. She hands Avelina’s phone to Nikolai. “Please can you take our family photo?”

“Sure,” he answers as he shoots a look of bewilderment at Queenie and Albert, who are dressed in matching capes and crowns.

Sofia tugs Avelina, who’s holding Leon, into the picture. “Come on, Viktor,” the little girl trills as she beckons me just as Leon starts to wail.

I freeze. “Me?”

“Uh-huh. You can stand here next to Mama.” Avelina is busy soothing Leon as Sofia speaks.

I shake my head, taking a step back. “Sofia, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say in a low voice.

Her small smile falters. “Why not?”

“Because…” My throat goes tight. “You said you want afamilyphoto. And I’m not part of your family.”

Her brow furrows, and her tiny nose scrunches as she thinks about this. “I know you aren’t my real dad.”

The words hit like a punch.Because I wish so much that I were.I crouch down to her level, forcing a steady voice. “That’s right. I’m not.”

She blinks, then tilts her head. “That doesn’t matter.”

I stare at her. “It…doesn’t?”

“No.” She slides her tiny, warm hand into mine. “You’re here. You keep us safe. You make Mama smile again. That makes youours.” Her voice is full of the innocence that only a young child can have.

My chest squeezes so tight I can’t breathe.

Avelina manages to calm Leon, and she gives me a smile as Sofia tugs me into the picture.

“Now,” Sofia says, “stand here and say cheese. You are part of this picture. Forever, Viktor.”

And my voice cracks when I whisper, “Okay, little bird.Cheese.”

It’s Sunday evening, and Avelina thinks I’m out working on some urgent issue at one of our warehouses.

I shake my head. I’ve survived combat zones, enemy ambushes, and a grenade that blew out half a wall behind me. I’ve taken a knife to the ribs and kept moving.

Yet I’m standing here, staring at a pair of brand-new ice skates like they’re the most dangerous thing I’ve ever seen.