Page 41 of Mafia and Scars

I shake my head. Whatever foolish thoughts I had about family, about being someone different, about the way Avelina’s smile made something warm unfurl in my chest—this chaos proves how wrong I was. And whatever nagging feeling sunk its claws into me yesterday gets shoved back in its box and locked tight.

It’s clear I’m not cut out for this. Any of it. I don’t want it. I don’t need it. And I made peace with all that years ago.

I sigh, closing my eyes to try and ground myself again.

I should march up the stairs and tell her this was a mistake. I’m overstimulated and stressed out. I’m not the right person for this. She’s going to have to find someone else to help. Someone who knows what they’re doing.

But there’s no one else, you asshole.Her conversation with that woman in the floral dress and the doctor made that very clear. The image of some stranger from Child Protective Services taking Sofia and Leon away from her makes something violent and primal rise in my chest. Those kidsbelongwith Avelina. Anyone with eyes can see how much she loves them, how hard she fights for them. The thought of her losing them because she got sick—because she pushed herself too hard trying to survive—makes me want to hunt down everyone who’s ever failed her and make them pay.

She’s on her own. And if she’s forced to watch the kids while she recovers, she’snotgoing to recover. Fuck. I huff out a breath. I’m literally her only option.

I wonder if I can somehow track down Geliy. But thinking about him, I know I have no choice except to let her and her children stay here until she’s better.

Geliy saved my life, and I owe him. That’s the only reason I’m doing this. It has to be.

I’ll keep them safe, make sure Avelina recovers, and then they’ll leave. And I’ll go back to my orderly, quiet life where I don’t have to pretend I could ever be anything more than what I am—a man built for violence, not for love.

Because if this is anything more than duty, I’m not sure what the hell I’m even doing anymore.

CHAPTER TWELVE

AVELINA

A soft yawn leaves me as I stretch out on the giant bed with its smooth sheets. Since Viktor brought me back to the compound earlier today, all I’ve done is sleep and drink water from the large glass that magically appeared on the nightstand a few hours ago.

A part of me is worried about the kids. But the part that knows the doctor is right helps with my mom guilt. This is the best thing I can do, and I made Viktor promise he’ll come and get me if the children need me.

A while later, he brings in a fresh glass of water and tells me that everything is going fine with the kids, and then he leaves again.

The door to my bedroom is cracked open just enough for me to hear Viktor’s deep voice rumbling in the hall a few moments later. At first, I think he’s on his phone. Then the words actually register.

“Who,” he drawls, all dramatic and serious, “has the most adorable fluffy paws ever? Hmm? Who does?”

There’s a tiny, chirpy meow, followed by Viktor making a noise that sounds suspiciously like…kissy sounds.

I slap a hand over my mouth.Oh. My. God.

“You do,” he coos, his voice dropping into a ridiculous baby-talk tone I didn’t think a man like him would be capable of. “Yes, Queenie. Don’t try to deny it. You’re my puuurrfect girl.”

My chest shakes so hard as I try not to laugh. This is Viktor, a fierce, terrifying man, and he’s baby-talking and making kissy sounds…to his cat.

I yank the comforter over my face and bury myself under the covers before the giggle bubbling up in my throat can escape.

“And you have the cutest little furry face. And the fluffiest tail. And the prettiest little pink nose. And the floofiest-woofiest fur...”Is floofiest-woofiest even a word?“Don’t tell anyone,” he whispers conspiratorially, “but you’re my favoritepersonin the whole wide world. I like you even more than that grumpy bastard, Grigory.”

Another pleased meow.

“Yes, yes, more than that madman, Nikolai, too,” he adds.

And there’s yet another approving sound from the cat.

“And way, way more than that smartass Matvey.” His voice drops lower, solemn and reverent. “I would never say this to their faces, but if I had to pick between you and them, it’s you every time. Hands down. No contest. You never nag me about my shoes left by the door.”

I clamp both hands over my mouth now, my entire body shaking as silent laughter threatens to burst free.

There’s another kissy sound, followed by a soft thump of paws as Queenie, presumably, leaps down from wherever she’s perched so that she can go to Viktor.

“That’s right, my little floof queen. It’s you and me against the world.” His tone is so tender that it makes my heart squeeze.