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Petra’s bright blue eyes are filled with panic as she looks down the hall. “He said a boy needs his father.” When her gaze returns to my face, she grips my hand. “I think he intends to take Laszlo.”
I wish I could reassure Petra how our family won’t allow that to happen. Yet, I don’t really know. There are business considerations involved.
Petra steps closer when an angry voice echoes through the quiet halls. I close the door behind me, hoping to spare the kids from whatever is about to happen.
Holding my sister’s hand, I shuffle down the hallway toward the foyer. A heated yet hushed conversation takes place near the front door. Petra and I inch our way closer and peer down from the second-story landing.
Leon stands at the door, wearing sweatpants, a T-shirt, and slippers. He was clearly retiring to bed when the commotion began.
Nearby are several armed Syndicate guards. Brandon stands in the middle of the large foyer with his own armed security.
Brandon’s dark eyes flash up at us, zeroing in on Petra. My sister gasps and looks ready to run.
“Pack your shit,” Brandon barks at her.
Petra opens her mouth to speak before noticing our father emerge from his den.
“What is all this noise?” Viktor asks.
He is wearing his burgundy robe and slippers, seeming older than usual. His black-and-gray hair is mussed up. He doesn’t seem like himself. My mother follows after him. I wonder if they were enjoying a late-night rendezvous.
Brandon steps toward my father. “I’ve come to take my wife and son back.”
Leon immediately adjusts his stance, leaving barely any daylight between Brandon and him. I sense the other man wants to step back or push away Leon. There’s a silent pissing contest happening.
“I don’t understand,” Viktor says after his gaze flashes up to a fearful Petra. “You asked for a divorce, Brandon Arany. I’ve seen the paperwork. The lawyers are hammering out the details. Was that all a fever dream?”
Brandon stands tall, owning several inches over my father who shuffles closer. I can barely breathe as I hold Petra’s hand.
Several scenarios play out in my head. One is a shootout, ending everyone. Another is Petra dragged away in the night.
“I’ve had a change of heart. Petra was never meant to leave for good. We were taking a break,” Brandon says and then glances back at his men before sneering at Leon, “A vacation is good for a man’s constitution.”
Viktor blinks rapidly, seeming confused. His silence frightens Petra more. She squeezes my hand harder.
“I don’t understand this thinking,” Viktor mumbles, seeming out of sorts as he looks to Katja. When his icy gaze returns to Brandon, he continues, “I gave you a gift. Petra is one of only two daughters I have to offer. Your family was chosen over others. I personally spoke with you and your brother. Promises were made, yet you discarded my first daughter like a used condom.”
“Now, here—”
Viktor brushes off his words with the same dismissive hand gesture he uses with everyone else.
“I didn’t make a fuss,” my father continues and nods at Katja. “I told my wife how sometimes these things don’t work. I accepted my daughter back, even after she gave you three children. The son you wanted nearly killed Petra, yet she didn’t complain when you sent her away. Our families remain allied.”
“Your daughter complains more than you think,” Brandon sneers and flashes an ugly frown up at Petra.
“Not once did you ask me for help with my daughter,” Viktor says as he shuffles around the room, looking over his possessions and speaking of Petra as one. “You didn’t even contact me before you sent her away. I took my daughter back and offered a home to your son. I showed you respect.”
Viktor turns to Brandon and sighs. “You repay me by coming to my home, late after the children are asleep. You bring your armed men and holler until my wife is disturbed and my daughters’ hearts are filled with fear. This is the respect you show me, Brandon Arany.”
The mood in the foyer shifts.
Viktor’s body language morphs from confused geriatric to hungry predator waking from a long slumber.
Leon seems closer to Brandon now, yet my brother never moved.
More Syndicate guards have slipped into the foyer, swallowing up the space.
Brandon’s henchmen detect the shift before he does. I sense them considering their options.
