Because whoever had done this—whoever had hidden behind his reputation to rob a mother and her children—was about to learn exactly why Viktor Romano’s name terrified the city.
The House
The drive through the rain was quiet.
The girl’s name was Lily Harper. She was seven years old and had been trying to sell anything she could find for the past week just to buy bread.
“Turn here,” Lily said softly, pointing toward a narrow street where several streetlights were broken.
The neighborhood looked forgotten.
Cracked sidewalks. Boarded windows. The kind of silence that came from people who had learned it was safer not to draw attention.
Viktor parked in front of a small house with peeling paint and a crooked front door.
Even before stepping out of the car he could smell dampness and neglect.
“Mom’s probably sleeping,” Lily said quietly. “She sleeps a lot now because it hurts less.”
Those words struck Viktor harder than any threat ever had.
They walked to the door together.
Lily pulled a key from beneath a loose brick and unlocked it.
Inside, the house was nearly empty.
No furniture. No decorations. Just bare floors and echoing footsteps.
“Mom?” Lily called gently. “I brought someone.”