Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
SIENNA
“I’m marrying Sienna instead.”
Alessandro’s eyes stay on me as he says it, and suddenly the air in the room disappears.
For one insane second, I think he’s joking.
This has to be revenge for yesterday and the hallway. For the argument. For daring to speak to him like he’s something less than a god among men.
But Alessandro doesn’t look like a man joking. He looks calm, certain, vicious.
My stomach drops so violently I almost sway where I stand.
On the couch across from me, Camilla makes a small sound of shock, but I barely hear it over the roaring in my ears. Even Daniela looks horrified.
And my father… I look at Massimo Caruso and nearly laugh despite the nightmare unfolding in front of me.
For the first time in my life, I see my father actually looking shocked.
His eyes widen the slightest fraction, his grip tightening around his cane so hard his knuckles pale beneath his skin. If the situation weren’t ruining my life in real time, I would frame this moment and hang it in a museum.
Rare sighting: Massimo Caruso acting like a human.
Alessandro still hasn’t looked away from me.
There’s no smile on his face, but amusement glints in his dark eyes. He’s enjoying this.
The bastard.
He wants me to explode. I can feel it. He’s waiting for me to start screaming so he can pin me down with that terrifying calmness of his and make me feel hysterical.
I almost give him what he wants.
There’s a vicious response sitting right at the tip of my tongue. Something dramatic. Possibly involving prison, hellfire, and erectile dysfunction.
But then my brain catches up.
If Alessandro wants me…
…then he doesn’t want Camilla anymore.
I glance at my sister.
She looks devastated, confused, terrified—but beneath all that, I see relief. It’s tiny and fragile, but it’s there.
And just like that, my anger tangles into something heavier. Because this was supposed to be me from the start.
Not Camilla.
Massimo only chose her after I “ruined” myself with Domenico.
The memory slices through me so suddenly my chest tightens.
Domenico smiling at me across a fire escape.
Domenico whispering ‘let’s run.’
Domenico dead because of me.
Guilt slithers into my throat like poison.
I swallow hard.
No.
I won’t think about him right now.
My father finally clears his throat, the sound sharp enough to cut through the tension.
“Very well,” he says evenly. “I agree to your deal.”
Of course he does.
A bitter laugh almost escapes me.
Massimo has spent weeks looking at me like spoiled fruit left too long in the sun. Damaged goods. The difficult daughter. The embarrassing daughter.
The daughter who ran.
The daughter who came back used.
Why wouldn’t he leap at the chance to get rid of me? He would save Camilla for another man, because to him, his daughters are just beautiful means to an end.
Camilla jerks toward him. “Papa—”
“Enough,” he snaps without even looking at her.
Silence crashes into the room.
Daniela looks close to tears now. Camilla outright is. And somehow Alessandro remains perfectly composed through all of it, lounging back in his chair like he didn’t just detonate my entire life with one sentence.
I hate him.
I hate the way he watches me like he already owns me.
I hate the way my body betrays me every single time he gets close.
Massimo turns toward me slowly. “You will marry Alessandro.”
Not ‘will you?’
Not ‘do you agree?’
A command. A verdict.
Something ugly twists inside me.
“You already gave Camilla away five minutes ago,” I say before I can stop myself. “What happens if he changes his mind again tomorrow? Daniela’s turn?”
Daniela chokes on a horrified laugh. No one dares to speak to my father this way. In the past, I also wouldn’t have. But what’s left for me now?
Massimo’s stare cuts toward me like a blade.
“Sienna.”
“What?” I spread my hands. “I’m just trying to understand the family rotation system.”
“Papa…” Camilla’s voice shakes. “We’re not properties. He can’t just switch brides as he pleases. It’s not—”
“It’s okay, Camilla,” I cut in quietly, forcing myself to look at her instead of the monster across the room. In this case, two monsters. “It’s better this way.”
“Shut up!” Massimo lashes at us viciously. “What gives you the right to speak?”
Camilla flinches like he struck her. I almost launch myself at him.
Instead, I dig my nails into my palms so hard they sting.
Across the room, Alessandro watches the entire exchange with frightening calmness. If anything, his eyes gleam darker, like he’s enjoying seeing claws come out.
Sick bastard.
Massimo turns toward him stiffly.
“Why Sienna?” he asks bluntly.
The room stills. Alessandro doesn’t hesitate.
“I’ve already met her,” he says smoothly. “I prefer her.”
My heart stops.
That prick!
Heat rushes violently into my face as my eyes snap to his. He looks right back at me, dark amusement practically dripping from him. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
He knows I snuck into that party.
God.
My stomach twists so hard I feel nauseous.
Massimo’s brows pull together sharply. “Met her where?”
He doesn’t respond. Massimo looks between us slowly, suspicion creeping across his face.
“You’ve only been back in New York for two months,” he says carefully. “And my daughter does not attend social events alone. In fact, she hasn’t attended any in recent times.”
Alessandro simply smiles. He doesn’t even try to answer. The silence says everything. Oh, my God.
Massimo’s head snaps toward me so fast it’s almost animalistic.
“Where were you?” he thunders.
My sisters shiver at his tone. Their eyes widen. They don’t know what I did. No one knows. Except Alessandro.
I lift my chin.
“Out.”
Massimo’s face darkens.
“Out,” he repeats softly. “Out where?”
I say nothing.
And somehow that enrages him more.
“I know what you are,” he spits suddenly. “I tolerated your disgrace once. I tolerated the humiliation you brought to this family with that pathetic boy. But debauchery? Sneaking around like a whore—”
“Go to hell.”
The words crack through the room before I can stop them.
Dead silence follows.
Even I hear the danger in my own voice. But humiliation burns too hot in my chest for caution. My face feels hot. My throat tight.
Still, I refuse to crumble in front of them.
Especially him.
Massimo stares at me in disbelief.
I stare right back.
“You can call me whatever you want,” I say coldly. “It doesn’t make it true.”
His nostrils flare.
“You ungrateful little—”
“No,” I snap. “You don’t get to stand there and act righteous while selling your daughters like luxury handbags.”
Daniela lets out a tiny horrified sound. Camilla grips her arm hard, whispering my name under her breath like a warning.
Massimo moves so fast I barely see it. One second, he’s across the room. The next—CRACK. Pain explodes across my face. My head snaps violently to the side.
For a moment, everything goes white. A sharp ringing fills my ears. The taste of blood floods my mouth where my teeth cut into my cheek. Camilla screams at him to stop. Daniela starts crying.
The entire room goes deathly still. But only for a second. Because Alessandro moves. I barely even see it happen. One moment he’s sitting across the room. The next, he’s in front of my father. His fist flies.
My breath catches as Massimo’s head jerks sharply to the side from the force of the punch.
What the—?
My father stumbles backward, his cane clattering loudly against the marble floor, but he doesn’t fall.
Silence slams into the foyer.
Pure, terrible silence.
I stare at Alessandro in shock.
He’s breathing harder now, chest rising beneath his black coat, his entire body rigid with violence barely contained. There’s something terrifying in his eyes. Something cold enough to freeze blood.
My father slowly straightens.
Blood drips from the corner of his mouth.
And now for the first time in my life, I see genuine shock on my father’s face.
Not because he got hit.
Because someone dared to hit him.
Alessandro takes one slow step forward.
“Don’t ever,” he says quietly, “put your hands on my fiancée again.” His voice is calm, but that’s the frightening part. “Or I’ll kill you,” he adds.
Massimo says nothing.
The two men just stare at each other.
One ageing king. And a successor looking ready to rip the throne out from under him. The tension feels alive. Like one wrong breath could turn the foyer into a massacre.
Then Alessandro steps back. He turns toward the man who arrived with him—who has been sitting in absolute silence this entire time, his expression entirely unreadable. It is highly commendable, honestly, given that this entire interaction has degenerated into a complete shit show.
“Let’s go, Valerio.”
The man rises immediately from his chair. Tall. Sharp. Quietly intimidating. His blue eyes flick briefly toward my father before returning to Alessandro.
So this is Valerio.
The infamous underboss.
Alessandro adjusts the cuffs of his coat like he didn’t just punch one of the most powerful men in New York.
“Lunch tomorrow,” he says curtly to my father.
Then he starts toward me on the way to the door. My pulse jumps stupidly as he approaches.
I should hate that.
I do hate it.
He stops beside me, close enough for his scent to curl around me again. Dark spice. Danger. Then he leans down slightly. His mouth brushes near my ear.
“You should be smiling when I see you tomorrow.”
My fingers twitch with the urge to slap him. Or spit on him. Or both. But I stay frozen there, still trying to process the fact that Alessandro Gallo punched my father because of me.
Because my father slapped me.
It’s not the first time Massimo has done it.
But somehow…
Something tells me it’ll be the last.
Alessandro straightens and walks away without another glance.
Valerio follows behind him.
A second later, the heavy front door closes with a click. Silence rushes back in. My father looks at me. Hatred burns in his eyes so fiercely it almost steals the breath from my lungs.
Like this is my fault. Like I orchestrated the entire thing just to humiliate him.