Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
SIENNA
I wake up the next morning feeling the best I have ever felt in my entire life. There is a permanent smile plastered on my face, the morning sun streaming through the heavy curtains to warm my skin. The lingering, sweet ache between my thighs serves as a beautiful reminder of last night.
A few feet away from the bed, Alessandro is standing completely naked, his back to me.
It seems he’s just stepped out of the shower, his dark hair still damp, and he's in the middle of getting dressed. I stay perfectly still under the covers, propping my chin on my hands to watch him pull on a pair of dark, tailored trousers and then a crisp white shirt, effortlessly rolling the sleeves up his tensed forearms. He is a ridiculously sexy man, and a fierce surge of pride hits my chest. He’s all mine.
Without even turning around to face me, his deep voice cuts through the quiet room. "Like what you see?"
I roll my eyes, though the smile on my lips only widens. "Don't flatter yourself."
He turns around with a brilliant, rare grin that completely changes his hard features, walking back over to the bed and climbing right in over the sheets. He leans down, capturing my lips in a long, slow kiss that tastes faintly of mint and coffee.
When he finally pulls away, his eyes are serious but warm. "I have to meet with Valerio. We couldn’t find Luca yesterday, so we must continue the search today. I need to handle this."
I nod against the pillow, understanding the stakes perfectly. "I know. Okay."
He cups my cheek, his thumb brushing over my skin. "Call me if you need me. Call me anytime. Okay? I don't care what I'm doing, you call my phone."
My heart does a little flip at the sheer protectiveness in his voice. I smile softly. "Okay."
Alessandro leans down to kiss me again, his lips lingering on mine until the kiss starts to deepen, turning heavy with sudden desire. Knowing he has a war to fight, I reluctantly press my hands against his chest, trying to push him out of the bed.
The movement causes the duvet to slide down, and his eyes instantly darken as he realizes I’m completely naked underneath. He lets out a low, ragged groan. "Now you've done it. I don't want to leave."
I laugh out loud, wrapping the sheet tightly around myself as I physically scramble out of bed and guide him toward the bedroom doors, ignoring his protests. "Go save the empire, Alessandro. I'll be right here."
I push him out into the hallway, shutting the door against his deep chuckle, my chest bursting with a warmth I never thought I'd find in this world.
My stomach lets out an aggressive rumble, reminding me that love doesn't actually feed you. Smiling to myself, I pad over to the bathroom, step into a hot shower, and brush my teeth. Once I'm done, I pick out a light, breezy sundress that makes me feel like a princess.
I’m just about to grab my purse and leave the bedroom when my phone beeps on the nightstand. I reach for it, seeing a text flash across the screen. It’s from my sister, Camilla.
Hey, I'm at our favorite coffee place down the street! Come meet me for coffee? I'm already here waiting.
Oh, great. An opportunity to see my sister again so soon? I’ll absolutely take it.
Before I head out, I decide to let Alessandro know. I walk down the hall to his office and find him sitting behind his desk. He's alone, but his face looks intensely focused, his brows furrowed over a mountain of paperwork.
"Sorry to bother you," I say softly, leaning against the doorframe.
Alessandro looks up, the cold tension instantly melting from his features the moment he sees me. "You can never bother me, Sienna. What's up?"
I walk over and explain the text from Camilla, but Alessandro's expression shifts into something more guarded.
"Why doesn't Camilla just come over to our place instead?" he asks, his protective instincts kicking in. "It's safer here."
I nod, understanding his concern. "That makes sense. I’ll just call her and tell her to come over."
I pull out my phone and dial Camilla's number right there in front of him. It rings all the way to voicemail. I frown, hanging up and trying a second time. Still nothing. I call her a few more times, but Camilla isn't picking up her phone at all, even though she just texted me a minute ago.
I lower the phone. "She’s not picking up."
Alessandro’s eyes narrow, his instincts immediately going on high alert. He stands up from his desk, the relaxed warmth from earlier completely gone.
"Listen, dolcezza. Luca hasn’t been caught yet.
The city isn't safe, and you two staying outside at a public coffee shop is out of the question.
" He rounds the desk, his voice firm. "My men can go pick up your sister and bring her back here to the estate where it’s safe.
I'll feel a hell of a lot better knowing you're both behind our gates. "
I chew on my lip, hating the idea of just sitting around while Camilla is out there. "Can I go with your men? I promise I'll wait for them in the car. If she sees the car or sees me through the window, she’ll come right out."
Alessandro looks at me, calculating the risks, his jaw tight. For a second, I think he’s going to give me a flat, definitive no. But seeing the stubborn determination in my eyes, he lets out a heavy breath and reluctantly agrees.
"Fine," he says, grabbing me by the shoulders and looking dead into my eyes. "But you do not step a single foot out of that vehicle. Am I clear? You stay locked inside."
"I promise," I say automatically, nodding. "I won't leave the car."
Alessandro doesn't take any chances. He immediately assigns three of his most trusted, heavily armed men to guard me. He gives them strict orders before we even step out the front door.
Within minutes, we leave the safety of the estate premises, the dark SUV tearing down the driveway as we head toward the coffee shop.
Looking out the tinted window at the passing city streets, a quiet pang of longing hits my chest. I wish I could just sit down in a public coffee shop, completely normal and unbothered, and have breakfast with my sister.
No guards, no armored cars, no threats lurking in the shadows.
But this is the life I’ve been dealt now. I just have to live with it.
The driver pulls the heavy vehicle up to the curb right outside our usual spot, idling the engine. One of the guards looks back at me, gives a sharp nod, and steps out of the car to go inside and retrieve Camilla.
I watch the entrance of the shop, counting the seconds. But after five excruciating minutes, the guard comes back out, pulling the heavy SUV door open. He's alone.
"Ma'am, your sister is not there," he says, his brow furrowed as he scans the street. "I walked the entire floor. She's not inside."
My heart drops into my stomach. "This can't be true. She literally texted me that she was already here waiting."
The guard looks at the driver, the air in the car instantly turning thick with professional suspicion. "Let me check the back patio and the restrooms," the man says grimly, checking the hidden holster under his jacket. "Stay in the vehicle."
He closes the door, locking it from the outside, and heads back into the shop. I sit frozen in the leather seat, my hands gripping my purse as the silence in the SUV stretches on, the anxiety inside me growing heavier with every passing second.
The guard returns after another agonizing ten minutes. When he opens the door, his face is grim, and my heart plummets. He didn’t find her.
"Ma'am, we need to head back to the estate," the driver says, his voice tight as he shifts the car into gear.
"No," I say, a stubborn, terrified wave of adrenaline taking over. I stay firmly planted in the backseat, my voice rising. "I am not leaving without Camilla. She was here. I know she was here. She wouldn’t text me if she wasn’t.”
Another twenty minutes tick by like a slow torture.
I sit there calling Camilla’s number over and over, several times in a row, but there is absolutely no answer.
The ringing just cuts off to voicemail every single time.
Something feels horribly, deeply wrong. The knot in my stomach tightens until I can barely breathe.
"I want to take a look too," I burst out, reaching for the door handle.
The guards instantly protest, their voices firm. "No, ma'am. Boss's orders. You stay in the vehicle."
"She’s my sister!" I yell, the panic finally breaking through my defenses. I am extremely worried, suffocating under the weight of my own fear. "What if she's hurt? Just let me look!"
Seeing that I am on the verge of hysteria and refusing to let the car move, they finally relent, unable to completely ignore my desperation. But they don't let me go alone—they all go with me.
I step out of the car, flanked tightly by the three heavily armed men.
I walk down the sidewalk, my eyes scanning the busy street, desperately trying to convince myself not to panic, trying to find a flash of Camilla's hair or her jacket in the crowd.
But with every step we take away from the armored SUV, a cold, suffocating unease crawls straight up my spine.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
Then, the attack comes fast.
Before my guards can properly react or even draw their weapons, a group of armed men move in from the shadows of a nearby alley like a pack of wolves. The ambush is perfectly timed, brutal, and coordinated.
My bodyguards fight back instantly, throwing themselves in front of me, but they are completely outnumbered and caught off guard. Heavy blows rain down, and within seconds, they are overwhelmed and knocked out cold.
I turn on my heel and try to run, my legs pumping beneath my sundress as I sprint back toward the car, but I don't even make it three steps.
Rough, heavy hands clamp down on my arms, violently jerking me backward.
I kick and scream, fighting with everything I have, but a thick cloth is shoved over my mouth, cutting off my air.
I am lifted entirely off my feet and forced into the back of a waiting cargo van. The heavy metal doors slam shut, plunging me into absolute darkness as the tires screech against the asphalt, tearing away into the city.
I slide against the cold floor of the van, the metallic smell of rust and old oil filling my nose.
Trapped in the small, pitch-black space, the walls feel like they are actively closing in on me.
The raw terror from my childhood—the memory of being locked in dark rooms by my father—surges to the surface, and the enclosed space threatens to send me into a full-blown panic attack.
My chest tightens, and I can't get any air.
Breathe. Match me. Right now.
Alessandro's voice cuts through the rising noise in my head.
I fight my ragged breathing, forcing myself to visualize his face from last night, the heavy, unyielding weight of his hands on my shoulders.
I remember the way he told me to focus, to breathe, and to stay present.
He told me I was safe, that his strength was mine.
Against my will, the memory acts as a solid anchor, pulling me back from the edge of hysteria. I force my lungs to expand, slowing my heart rate down as the van twists and turns through the city streets. I need to stay sharp. I need to stay alive.
When the van finally screeches to a halt, the doors are thrown open, and blinding light pours in. I am ruthlessly dragged out, a rough sack shoved over my head as they march me inside a building. When the sack is ripped off, the musty, damp air confirms where I am: an abandoned warehouse.
I blink against the dim light, my eyes darting over the armed men surrounding me. I recognize only one face among them. Pietro.
He steps forward, staring down at me with absolute, hate-filled eyes. The venom in his expression is palpable as he sneers, "You're a dead woman, Sienna. Your husband can't save you from this."
He laughs, a harsh, grating sound that echoes off the high rafters, and mocks me. "You actually fell for it. You walked right into the trap."
As he brags, the pieces finally click together in my mind. The text message. The unanswered phone calls. The kidnappers used Camilla's phone to lure me out to that coffee shop, but Camilla herself isn't actually here.
I don't know how they managed to get their hands on her phone—whether they stole it or pick pocketed it—but the realization that my sister is completely safe and completely unaware of this nightmare brings a sudden wave of clarity.
A small thread of genuine relief twists through my chest, cutting through the fear. If she is safe, then this is just about me.
“How did you get my sister’s phone?” I ask.
“Shut up!” He grabs my jaw with strong hands. I hide a wince. “You don’t get to ask questions, you bitch. I’m going to enjoy breaking you.”
I look up at Pietro, keeping my face as stoic as Alessandro's mask, even though I know the brutal reality of my situation: I am now the bait, and the trap is set for my husband.
“You will not get away with this, Pietro,” I tell him, swallowing my fear. “My husband will come for you. And when he does, there’s nowhere on this planet you’d be able to hide from him.”