Page 204 of Mafia and Scars

“That you loved hard even if you don’t call it that,” Grigory continues.

“You don’t leave,” Nikolai adds. “You’re loyal as shit. You don’tforgive fuckers who hurt your brothers.” His gaze holds mine. “You are our brother, Viktor. Always.

I make myself breathe. “You don’t think my autism makes me weak?”

Grigory grins. “Viktor, your idea of relaxing is sharpening knives to identical bevels while listening to a thunderstorm. Weak isn’t a word I’d ever apply to you.”

Matvey rubs his jaw. “If anything, it explains why you’re good at what you do. Systems. Discipline.”

Something in my chest shifts. Not a crack. A realignment.

“We didn’t bring it up because we didn’t want you to feel cornered or uncomfortable,” Grigory says. “We figured if you wanted to name it, you would. We already knew what we were looking at.”

“And what were you looking at?”

Grigory doesn’t blink. “The most dangerous man to come outta Russia after me. The most loyal. The one I’d hand my life to without thinking.”

I stare at the blinds. “Sofia asked me to read a book about cats.”

Matvey grins. “It had pictures.”

“It did.” My mouth twitches. “She says her chest gets weird and buzzy if she doesn’t know the plan. So, I’m building her a visual board. To show the day’s schedule.”

Grigory nods. “Great idea.”

I frown at them. “I thought if I said this all in front of you, things would…change between us.”

Nikolai lifts his chin. “You were afraid we’d see you differently. But we don’t. It’s as simple as that.”

“I keep waiting for someone to tell me it’s a defect,” I admit. “That I’m broken.”

Grigory’s expression goes flat. “Anyone who uses those words about you in my fucking house can leave. On their feet if they’re lucky.”

The nods that follow are full of agreement.

“What do you need from us, Vik,” he asks me slowly.

I think about it. “If the room gets loud, I might walk out without warning. I’m not leaving you I’m just…adjusting.”

“Okay.”

“And if I say no touching, it’s not you.”

“We know,” Matvey replies.

I look at each of them, and they look back, not flinching once. Not avoiding my gaze. Not lookingashamedof me. My throat tightens.

“Nothing has changed, Viktor,” Grigory says. “You’re still the same man who walked in here ten minutes ago.”

My shoulders drop a fraction. And it feels like I’ve just stepped onto a frozen lake and realized that the ice is holding and not cracking down the middle. I can balance. And I’msafe.

I exhale. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Grigory echoes. “Now, are we done pretending Matvey didn’t fucking cheat at cards last night?”

Matvey looks offended. “I do not cheat. I adapted.”

“Like a parasite,” Nikolai says.