“They took everything in two trips. Furniture, appliances, even her toys. They said if I went to the police they’d come back for something more valuable.”

Viktor understood the threat immediately.

“Did the man give his name?” he asked.

Emily nodded.

“Victor… or maybe Vincent. Something like that.”

Viktor’s expression hardened.

Adrian Russo.

One of his lieutenants.

A man trusted with collections.

Lily spoke again.

“He hurt Mrs. Delgado too,” she said quietly. “And the family with the baby. I see them crying sometimes.”

Viktor looked at her.

This wasn’t one incident.

This was a pattern.

“How many families?” he asked.

Lily counted slowly on her fingers.

“Seven that I know.”

Seven homes destroyed.

Seven families robbed.

Viktor stood up slowly.

First, he made a call.

“Marco,” he said into the phone. “Bring groceries to the address I’m sending. Enough for a week.”

He paused.

“And bring cash. One thousand dollars.”

After hanging up, he looked back at Emily.

“Food will arrive within the hour. Your power will be turned back on tomorrow. Someone will repair your door.”

Emily stared at him in disbelief.

“Why would you help us?”

Viktor glanced at Lily.

“Because someone used my name to hurt your family.”

His voice turned colder.

“And that makes it personal.”

The Betrayal

Later that night Viktor sat in his office waiting.

The man responsible arrived exactly one hour later.

Adrian Russo walked in carrying a folder and wearing a confident smile.

“Boss,” Adrian said casually. “You wanted to see me?”

Viktor gestured toward the chair.

“Sit.”

Adrian placed the folder on the desk.

“If this is about the Harper woman, I can explain,” he began.

“Please do.”

Adrian cleared his throat.

“The husband borrowed money before he died. Couldn’t pay it back. I simply collected what we were owed.”

Viktor studied the paperwork.

Then he asked quietly,

“When did the husband die?”

“August,” Adrian replied.

Viktor slid the document across the desk.

“And when was this loan signed?”

Adrian glanced down.

The color drained from his face.

The date was two months after the man had already died.

“You forged a dead man’s signature,” Viktor said calmly.

Silence filled the room.

“You stole from a widow and her children,” Viktor continued.

“And you used my name to do it.”

Adrian tried to speak.

“Boss, these people don’t matter. They’re nobody—”

“Wrong answer.”

Viktor’s voice turned ice cold.