Page 42 of Mafia and Scars

He might look like he wrestles bears for fun, but right now, he’s just a giant marshmallow who’s worshipping a six-pound ball of fur. And somehow, that seems to make him even more dangerous to my heart.

The second I hear Viktor’s boots, I stuff the edge of the comforterinto my mouth to smother my giggles and bury myself deeper under the covers like some kind of spy hiding behind enemy lines. My shoulders are shaking. He just told the cat that she was his favorite person. How am I supposed to act normal after that?

The footsteps stop outside my door. Uh oh…

The door creaks open. “Avelina?” His voice is low, suspicious. “Why does it sound like you’re choking in here?”

I peek out from under the blanket and frantically school my expression. “Just…allergies,” I croak.

He narrows his eyes.“Allergies.”His tone suggests he’s not buying it for a second.

“Yep,” I say brightly, praying my face doesn’t betray me. “Very dusty in here.Achoo.”

There’s a long pause. Viktor crosses his arms, his black shirt stretching over muscles that have no business looking that intimidating. “You’re lying.”

My lips twitch.Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh, Avelina!

“Why,” he says slowly, like a man on the verge of an interrogation, “are you smiling like a kid who’s found an unlimited supply of sugar?”

That does it. A giggle explodes out of me, then another, until I’m laughing so hard my sides hurt.

Viktor’s brows slam together.“What’s so funny?”

Through my wheezing, I manage to speak in gasps. “You…you and Queenie.Who has the most adorable fluffy paws ever?” I mimic his baby-talk voice badly, which only makes me laugh harder.

His face goes crimson. “You werespyingon me?”

“The door was open!” I exclaim, clutching my stomach. “And then you said she was your favoriteperson! Over actual humans!”

“Sheis,” he snaps defensively, then immediately regrets it because now I’m howling so hard tears are leaking out of my eyes.

He drags a hand down his face, muttering something in Russian that sounds very much like a threat of murder.

Finally, he glares at me and looks like he’s trying to summon a terrifying expression. “If you tell anyone about this,” he growls, “I’ll?—”

“You’ll what?” I hiccup.“Meow at me menacingly?”And a fresh fit of giggles overtakes me at my ridiculous pun.

His jaw works, muscles ticking. Then he points at me with all the ferocity of a man backed into a corner. “You’re lucky you’re a girl.”

I grin as I raise an eyebrow at him. “Not as cute as Queenie, though—right?”

And all he can manage is a final huff before he leaves, making sure to completely close the door this time.

I’m napping, and I’m not sure exactly how much time has passed, but I find myself waking up to…

Yelling.

Not the distant, muffled kind you hear through walls. But a screeching kind—a‘this is how horror movies start’kind of yelling.

My eyes fly open.

The room tilts as I jerk up too fast.

The events of today come rushing back. Me collapsing at the market earlier today, Viktor coming to the hospital and insisting I stay here.

An old woman has flung open the door and burst into the room. She’s wearing an apron and slippers and is yelling at me in rapid Russian, brandishing the fury of a thousand fire-breathing dragons. And even if I didn’t already understand Russian, I wouldn’t need subtitles to get the gist.

Her finger jabs toward the bed. And her eyes are popping out of their sockets like she’s just caught me stealing the family jewels.