Page 29 of Mafia and Scars

“Thank you!” I call out as I put my foot back on the gas.

I inch through the now open gate and up the drive, feeling like I’ve crossed from Vegas into some military compound. Are these people serial killers for hire or something? Because this place is extreme—even for one of Geliy’s ex-military buddies.

I creep up the drive toward a row of black SUVs and try to find a parking spot. The only one is tight. I try backing in, but the back tire won’t cooperate. I pull forward, try again, but no go. I try once more but then clip a post.Oh no!I hit the brake just as someone storms over, a shadow looming beside me.

My door yanks open with more force than necessary.

“Get. Out. Now.” The man’s voice is pure irritation, his jaw clenched. He’s armed with an AK-47 slung across his chest. Christ, who the hell are these people?

Smile, Avelina. Predators can smell fear.“Oh! Hi there!” I say brightly after taking a deep breath. “Are you Viktor by any chance?”

“Yes,” he grits out after a moment of silence.

“Great. I’m, uh, Avelina. Sorry about my parking. I know I’m absolutely terrible at it. But isn’t this place, um, just gorgeous? And thosepalm trees are beautiful…” Because if I ignore the over-the-top security measures, this place is actually stunning. A lot of money has been spent on not just the house and outbuildings but also on the lush landscaping.

“People like you shouldn’t be allowed near a car,” he clips.

My smile only gets brighter. Because that’s the only way I know how to deal with this man who’s as grumpy as a hungry grizzly bear. “You’re so right. I’m like a menace on wheels. I’m surprised I even managed to pass my driver’s test in the first place!” I know I’m babbling, but something about this whole situation and this man’s intense eyes on me completely unnerves me.

“Get out,” he repeats.

I scramble out of the driver’s seat, and he immediately slides into my car and parks it in one clean motion like it’s nothing.

Damn.Why is that kind of hot?

I flash him a smile. “Wow, you’re like my parking superhero. I wish I could fit you in my purse to help me park whenever I need it!” My words tumble out in a rush but also with real appreciation—because he did save me from causing any more damage.

He inhales sharply. Definitely a man of few words. Silent and brooding. My eyes trace over him. Broad shoulders, ink creeping past his sleeves, the hard set of his jaw. He’s like a real-life Henry Cavill inSuperman.

He’s about to slide out of the seat when he startles and nearly jumps out of his skin.

Because Sofia pipes up from the back seat. “I think you’ll find you’re not insured to drive this car!”

His head whips around. “What the f…” He stops himself mid-sentence.

Sofia looks at me and then back to him, her eyes wide.

“How’d you sneak in here so fast, you little—” Again, he just about stops himself from saying anything inappropriate in front of my child.

“I was already here,” she announces. “You were unobservant and didn’t notice me.”

My lips twitch. Ever a stickler for rules, my daughter never ceases to surprise me with the things she comes out with.

His brow arches, and then his head swings back to me. “You’ve gotanotherrugrat?”

I ignore the judgment in his voice and just smile at him. “I do. This is Sofia. She’s six and my eldest,” I say with pride.

He shakes his head and gets out from the driver’s seat.

My hand lands on his forearm in a gentle touch of thanks, and my mouth opens, ready to tell him my appreciation again.

But his eyes suddenly widen with shock and hostility.

He staggers back, putting distance between us.

And my hand pulls back quickly, not quite understanding what just happened.

“You!”