Chapter 3 #2
Then he bends slowly, picks up his cane, and turns toward the staircase.
None of us move. We wait in complete silence until he disappears upstairs. Only then do we breathe again.
Camilla rushes toward me first.
“Oh my God,” she whispers shakily, grabbing my face carefully. “Sienna—”
“I’m okay,” I mumble automatically, even though my cheek throbs.
Daniela looks horrified, but I don’t give her a chance to speak.
“So…” I force a smile for their benefit. “Apparently, I’m getting married.”
Daniela lets out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob.
“Oh my God,” she mutters. “You sound insane.”
“I feel insane.”
Camilla still looks shell-shocked. I hate that look on her face more than I hate the pain in my cheek. She suddenly grabs my wrist and drags me toward the nearest couch.
“Sienna,” she says urgently once we sit. “Tell me the truth. How do you know Alessandro?”
Daniela immediately sits beside us, eyes huge with curiosity and panic.
I lean back against the sofa cushions and stare at the chandelier overhead for a long moment.
There’s really no point hiding it anymore. Not after Alessandro practically announced it to the room.
So I sigh and tell them everything.
The fake invitation.
Sneaking out.
The masked party.
Daniela’s mouth drops open halfway through.
“A sex party?” she whisper-screeches. “Are you insane?”
“Yes,” I deadpan. “We’ve established that already.”
Camilla looks like she might faint.
I keep going anyway.
I tell them about seeing Alessandro there.
About overhearing him discuss the Kuznetsovs and his plans to secure power before Luca could challenge him.
About trying to escape.
About falling into him.
I tell them how he figured out I didn’t belong there.
How he locked me in that room.
How he exposed me today on purpose.
Camilla’s expression slowly crumbles into horror.
“And you still agreed to marry him for me?” she whispers.
I shrug like it’s nothing.
“It’s better this way.”
“No, it’s not.” Her eyes fill with tears again. “Sienna, you didn’t have to do that.”
Didn’t I?
I look away from her.
“If Domenico hadn’t happened,” I say quietly, “I would’ve already been married into the Gallo family anyway.”
Silence settles heavily around us.
Because we all remember the original arrangement before Alessandro inherited the position after his brother died.
Before everything went to hell.
I stare down at my hands as memories rise whether I want them to or not. I remember being anxious and terrified. Being told I’d marry Matteo Gallo, Alessandro’s older brother, like it was already decided by God himself.
I remember sneaking around with Domenico afterward because for once in my life, someone looked at me like a person instead of a bargaining chip.
Domenico with his stupid smile.
Domenico teaching me how to ride his motorcycle even though I screamed the entire time.
Domenico kissing me on fire escapes and rooftops like we were normal people instead of trapped children born into violent families.
Back then, I thought it was love.
Maybe it was.
Or maybe I was just drowning and he happened to look like air.
We planned to run away together, because I was desperate to escape my father. How we got caught.
My stomach twists violently.
Because even now, months later, remembering that day makes my chest constrict. My father found us, and Domenico paid the price. I’ve lived with the guilt ever since.
Massimo locked me away after Domenico died.
Punishment. Because I came back ruined. No longer untouched.
No longer politically valuable.
I remember clawing at the door until my nails bled.
Begging to be let out.
Crying until my throat burned raw.
And my father never came. Never opened the door. Never softened.
“Sienna.”
Camilla’s voice cuts through it. Her arms wrap around me from the side, warm and firm, pulling me out of the memory like she’s physically dragging me back into the present.
“It’s okay,” she whispers against my hair. “It’s okay. You’re here.”
Daniela joins a second later, smaller arms squeezing tighter. I breathe in shakily. Out again. The memory doesn’t fully leave, but it steps back.
“We’re okay,” I lie softly.
None of us believe it.
Minutes later, I’m standing outside my father’s office. My throat feels tight, like I swallowed glass. This is stupid.
My father always said women don’t come into this part of the house. We don’t enter these conversations. We don’t interrupt the machinery.
I swallow hard and lift my hand anyway.
I knock once. A pause. Then again.
“Come in.”
His voice is flat. I take a deep breath and enter. The door clicks shut behind me, and the sound feels too loud in the office.
Massimo is already seated at his desk.
Still in the same suit, with the blood from Alessandro’s punch drying at the corner of his mouth. His eyes lift to me slowly.
“What are you doing here?”
I step in, careful. “I’m certain the Gallos are trying to secure an alliance with the Kuznetsov Bratva.”
His fingers pause on the desk.
Then his gaze sharpens. “How do you know this?”
I hesitate. I’m not about to tell him I heard it at the mansion during a sex party. That’s just going to earn me another slap and Alessandro isn’t here to save me.
“I heard it,” I say.
His brows lift slightly. “You heard.”
He looks at me like I’m a stupid child.
“Yes.”
A quiet beat stretches between us.
I force myself to hold his gaze. “Papa, I heard it from a trusted source. You have to break this engagement before it goes any further.”
That earns me a bitter laugh. “And you think I will believe this to be true and that you’re not simply trying to ruin the marriage? You have no proof,” he says calmly.
“I don’t need proof to know what I heard—”
“Explain to me why you think you’re qualified to speak on political alliances you don’t understand, especially after humiliating me like this earlier?”
“I understand enough,” I say quickly. “Enough to know this marriage puts us at risk.”
That makes him exhale through his nose. “I suggest you stop behaving like this,” he says. “Running around, embarrassing yourself, mixing in places you don’t belong, like a slut. You have brough enough shame to this house.”
My breath catches. My nails press into my palms. I feel my face go hot.
“I am not a slut,” I say quietly. Then I lift my chin slightly. “And you will never call me that again.”
“Get out,” he says simply.
As I turn to leave, I realize he didn’t choose violence. He’s as afraid of Alessandro as the rest of us.
Good.
The next morning, I feel different when I wake up. It remains so until the formal lunch hour draws near. I sit at my vanity, staring at my reflection while I lightly brush powder across my face. My movements are slow, automatic, tired.
Inside my head, nothing is controlled.
Rosalia arrived an hour ago.
I saw her through the hallway window before she even came inside. She looked older, and not in a good way. She’s stressed. Tighter around the eyes.
Her husband, Luciano DeLorenzo, was beside her like a shadow that just learned how to wear a suit. He is too old for her. They don’t fit at all. Luciano is a cruel, abusive man who treats Rosalia like a trophy to show off instead of a human being. To him, she is just a pretty object he owns.
Rosalia was smiling like everything was fine. But I saw her fingers twitch when Luciano touched her elbow. It was a small flinch, like she wanted to pull away from his hand but was too afraid to do it.
I hate it.
I hate Luciano for how he treats her, and I hate that she has to pretend to be happy.
A stupid thought crosses my mind before I can stop it.
Is that what my future will look like?
A life where I learn how to smile through my pain?
I press the thought down hard.
At least Alessandro isn’t old.
That should be comforting.
It isn’t.
He’s worse in other ways.
I think of him and my stomach tightens in that irritating, traitorous way it always does. I set my brush down harder than necessary. Camilla will probably be crying again by the end of the day. Rosalia already looks half gone.
I miss Eleonora, she has always been the glue. But she can’t make it today. She’s traveling with her husband, Nico. They’ll be back for the wedding in two weeks.
With an annoyed sigh, I turn away from the mirror and open my drawer. Inside, tucked beneath folded silk and old jewelry boxes, is a small black case. I pull it out. There’s a tiny recording device inside.
I plan to put this on as soon as I have the chance to do so today. He carries himself like a man who hears everything but says nothing. Which means he’s exactly the kind of person who should be watched.
Just a little more patience.
That’s all I need.
A knock sounds at the door and I freeze.
“Sienna?” It’s Camilla.
I snap the case shut and shove it back into the drawer a second before she enters. Her eyes land on me immediately, searching my face like she’s afraid of what she might find there.
“They’re here,” she says quietly. “He has arrived.”
My heart gives a small, uneasy jump.
“Okay, I’m coming down,” I say, standing. I smooth down my dress once. I have a feeling that today will change not just me, but all of us.
“Let’s go.”