Page 31 of Mafia and Scars

I step forward, my tone gentler now. “You won’t be. We have plenty of food. And you all should eat.”

A moment passes, then she nods tightly. “Okay…thank you.” And I can see she’s just as stunned at her agreement as I am.

Dinner is served on the large trestle tables under the courtyard lights—simple food, quiet clinks of cutlery, soft conversation.

Confusion washes over me. I don’t understand this woman. I stormed over to her car, clearly pissed off at her parking and staring at her like she was insane, but she beamed a smile at me and complimented me on the compound’s landscaping. And calling me herparking superhero—who the hell says that sort of thing? And why did she look at me like I’d done something heroic instead of just parking her car after glaring and growling at her?

“This food is absolutely delicious!” Avelina enthuses to the cook who’s used to people either ignoring him or complaining. “And this courtyard is like something out of a magazine. You all must love living here!” Her praise is genuine, and her kind personality is almost disarming.

My brows pull together into a frown. How on earth is she this upbeat after being yelled at by both Grigory and me? And why, despite myself, do I feel my scowl faltering? Because my scowl is pretty permanent when I’m around other people, so why is it suddenly slipping around her?

I notice the way her eyes slip to the knives and guns strapped on our belts. There’s something in her gaze. Is it disapproval maybe? I can’t quite tell. But there’s something almost desperate in the brightness of her smile. Like she’s using kindness as a weapon—and somehow, it’s working. The cook and other hardened men around this table are practically preening under her praise.

The woman is a walking contradiction. She beamed at me like I hung the moon after I basically growled at her, then called me her parking superhero with such genuine delight that something inside my chest did a weird flip. But I catch the way her eyes dart to our weapons, her mind cataloguing any possible threats even as she compliments the landscaping.Smart woman.

I can’t help recalling her earlier words. When she said,“You and your merry band of men certainly wouldn’t be my first choice for babysitters.”I shrugged it off. But now…I start to wonder.Do we smell or something?

I subtly lean under my armpit and sniff.

But it’s clean.

I glance at Matvey across the table. I can’t help but whisper to him. “Why wouldn’t she want us looking after her kid? Is there something wrong with us?”

“It’s because we look like a bunch of thugs, dumbass,” he replies.

My jaw tightens. And I find myself straightening my shirt and smoothing down my hair—as if that’s going to miraculously transform me into the ideal manny-version of Mary fucking Poppins.

I watch her pull on a bright blue sweater against the cool of the evening and then feed Leon, his eyes quiet with trust and love. She’s…beautiful. And so different from Geliy, who’d barely touched him. She’s a hands-on mom. She barely eats herself, too distracted by caring for her children.

When dessert is served, I notice Avelina politely refuses, although she looks longingly at the creamy, decadent cheesecake swirled with a raspberry sauce.

Sofia’s small features are focused on her plate as she speaks quietly. She has an extremely advanced vocabulary for a six-year-old. I watchas she meticulously lines up her cutlery and keeps her food very carefully sectioned—the cheesecake, fresh berries, and whipped cream aren’t allowed to touch one another. She also avoids eye contact, glancing out of the corner of her eyes. She’s just like me in so many ways…

It hits me with the force of a sledgehammer.

My chest tightens. My vision blurs at the edges. I shove back from the table and hurry out of the room, just about stopping myself from bursting into a run.

The cool laundry room air slams into me as I shove the door shut behind me. My heart pounds. I press my forehead to the wall.

When I look at Sofia, I see autism.

Repetitious behaviors, advanced speech, avoidance of eye contact.

Oh God. The very thing I’ve been running from since I found it in that Russian library.The weakness I can never admit. The thing I don’t want people to see in me. The thing I don’t want to ever acknowledge.

Everything in my mind is ticking too fast.

I inhale. Exhale. Clench and release fists. Gradually, my thoughts slow a little, just enough to quiet some of the chaos in my head.

A long while passes before I make my way back to the courtyard.

“Are you okay?” Avelina asks softly.

I force a nod. “Just…remembered something urgent. Finish your meal.”

She smiles tiredly. After the meal, she goes inside and gathers the bags. Leon is yawning in his car seat, and Sofia rubs her eyes.

“You’re leaving?” I ask.