Page 66 of Mafia and Scars

More than I thought I was ready for.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

AVELINA

Viktor wasn’t here when I woke up, and Babulya told me that the men had already left “for work.”

I’ve triple-checked the bags. Everything is packed. Most of the gifts and toys Viktor bought for the kids are packed away in the rec room, even though I know Sofia snuck a few puzzles into her bag when she thought I wasn’t looking.

A heavy sigh leaves me.

It’s time.

To return to normal life. I’m not someone who overstays a welcome. They were kind enough to tolerate us—I don’t want to ruin that, and I don’t want to be in their hair any more than we have been. Dangerous men like this only have so much tolerance.And it’s clear after the attack on the compound that these men are very dangerous.

I remember Viktor told me they do private security work. But I realize now that it’s not just run-of-the-mill stuff. I heard some of thekitchen staff talking when we were in the safe room. And it confirmed my worst suspicion—that these men are Bratva.

I’ve been kidding myself. Letting my stupid brain and his kindness cloud my judgment and convince me that he’s just an ex-military person working in security like so many other ex-military men do.Stupid, stupid, stupid!How could I let myself get in this situation again? And how could I subject the children to this sort of danger again?

I smooth my hand down the front of my skirt. It’s not that long a drive home, but just the thought of walking out that gate has my stomach in knots. I haven’t quite pieced together why I want to linger here for a little longer. Or why the thought of leaving bothers me. Viktor has been so kind to let us stay here. And him sleeping outside the room like he has…it provided a comfort I didn’t know I needed. And last night, after Viktor reassured me when he woke me from that nightmare, something strange happened.Because for the first time in a long time, I dreamed of safety…and not monsters who linger from my past.

“Are we ready, Mama?” Sofia asks softly, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.

I crouch down and brush her hair off her forehead, tucking it behind her ear. “Almost, baby.”

Leon makes a happy noise from where he’s chewing on the handle of his toy, and I offer him a soft but weak smile. I should be excited to get back to our life, whatever that looks like now. Instead, the prospect feels a little…flat.And final.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

VIKTOR

Despite the humidity hinting at an oncoming storm, the morning is cool, and the slight breeze carries the faint scent of desert blooms.

“Let’s get this shit done, yeah?” Nikolai says, snuffing out his cigarette beneath his boot heel.

Fluorescent lights buzz overhead as we step into the warehouse. Twenty-three bodies lie in a row. In a few hours, acid will erase any sign they existed, but first, we’ll see what information we can gather.

“Any clues yet about who they are and who they work for?” I ask.

“Nothing yet.”

I sigh and nudge one corpse’s arm with my boot. Tattoos cover the skin, but they’re decorative and not tied to the petty gangs that fester in this area.

One body after another yields nothing. Until I crouch beside the twenty-first.

There.A small mark on the back of his neck. Recognition hits me like a gut punch.

“Turn his head,” I order.

A soldier obeys. My stomach knots. “Take a picture of that.”

“Why?” the soldier asks, confused.

I glare sharply, and he fumbles for his phone.

The design is stark and unmistakable. Fingers coiled around a dagger, the blade driven through a skull. The ink is old, the lines faded and blurred in places, but the symbol is still clear. It’s the mark of a faction I’ve seen before.

“Check the others for the same mark,” I growl.