People usually crossed the street to avoid Viktor Romano. His reputation traveled faster than he did.
But this girl clearly had no idea who he was—or she was simply too desperate to care.
“How long since your mother last ate?” Viktor asked.
The girl looked down at the pavement.
“A few days… I think,” she whispered. “Ever since the men came.”
Viktor’s eyes narrowed.
“What men?”
She glanced around nervously as if someone might be listening.
“The ones who said Mommy owed money. They took everything. Our couch, the TV, all our clothes… they even took my baby brother’s crib.”
Viktor felt his jaw tighten.
He had heard stories about crooked loan sharks and street collectors before.
But when the girl lifted her sleeve and he noticed faint bruises on her arm, something colder settled in his chest.
“They said Mommy shouldn’t tell anyone,” she added softly. “But I recognized one of them.”
Viktor crouched down so he was eye-level with her.
“Tell me who it was.”
The girl hesitated before speaking.
“It was a man from your group,” she said quietly. “Mommy said the mafia took everything from us.”
For a moment Viktor didn’t move.
Not out of guilt—but because someone had dared to use his name while hurting a starving family.
He stood slowly as rain soaked into his coat.
“Where is your mother right now?”
“At home,” the girl replied. “She’s too weak to get up.”
Viktor opened the SUV door.
“Get in,” he said.
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.
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