Chapter 2 Sienna
Sienna
I don’t cry at work.
Not when the woman who ordered the lemon cake decided it was “too yellow.”
Not when my boss said my customer service was “a little stiff and slow”.
And definitely not when I slipped on a patch of water someone left on the kitchen tile and landed on my ass hard enough to see stars.
But when I get home and find my apartment empty? Not a single box, a single hanger on the rod, or any of the several small pieces of furniture I own.
That’s when my eyes sting and my stomach caves.
I stand in the middle of my tiny one-bedroom, completely frozen, blinking at the space that used to be mine. That used to smell like vanilla and sugar and a little too much dry shampoo.
Now?
It’s wiped clean and scrubbed of me.
I’m still wearing my apron from the bakery, my hair’s falling out of its bun, and the only thing left in this godforsaken space is the stray hoodie I kicked under the bed a week ago.
My knees give out, and I squat to try and catch my breath.
This has to be a joke. A prank. A mistake.
Am I in the wrong apartment?
I tug my phone out of my bag and scroll through my call log.
Nothing from the landlord.
No texts.
No emails.
But then there’s a sound behind me. A rustle, then a slow, deliberate knock on the already open door that has me jolting around on my toes and falling to my butt again.
“Don’t shoot,” Artem says flatly, raising both his hands in the air like I have a loaded weapon on him.
I wish I did.
He’s leaned against the frame like he’s posing for a photo. Gray shirt, black pants, that same stupid expression that tells me he’d rather be anywhere else but here.
All the blood in my body rises to my brain, sparking an explosion of anger. I can’t speak, piecing and soaking all this in because it has Benedikt’s name stamped so freshly on my life, I can’t stand it.
I can’t do this.
“Afternoon, princess,” he says. “Rough day?”
“Where’s my stuff?”
“Gone,” he says simply. “Ben sent a team in earlier to move it.”
“You mean he stole it.”
He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, and Benedikt was in dire need of used furniture and women’s clothing. “I mean, he relocated it. To his penthouse.”
I actually laugh out loud.
Not because it’s funny…because it’s so utterly insane.
Artem studies me as if witnessing a manic episode. He’s definitely getting something.
Me about to lose my entire mind and on the verge of screaming.
“Something funny there, Sienna.”
“Yes,” I immediately respond, pushing myself up to stand on my feet. “You. You being here. You thinking I’m going to abide by your rules and whatever reason you’re here.” I stare him directly in the eyes when I say. “I want my stuff back now, Artem. I’m not a child.”
He lifts a brow. “I’m here to bring you home.”
“That’s not my home.”
He shrugs. “It is now.”
“No.”I shake my head violently as if it’s going to stop this conversation and bring all my things back. “See, that’s not how this works—”
“You sure about that?” he asks, and his voice takes on that flat, no-bullshit tone I’ve heard once before. When we argued about that stupid black dress he wanted me to wear in L.A to show off for Benedikt’s friends. “Because last I checked, you made a deal.”
“A verbal one.”
“Verbal counts,” he says. “Especially with a man like Benedikt.”
“I didn’t sign anything. Which means nothing is legally binding.”
“Ben’s not the kind of guy who cares about ink when he already owns the paper.” He pushes off the doorframe, steps inside like he lives here, and hands tucked casually into his pockets. “He said you’re moving in. And I’m here to make that happen.”
“You don’t get to make anything happen. Neither does he.” I fold my arms across my chest and plant my heels into the floor. “I didn’t agree to this arrangement being immediate.”
“Yeah, well.” He looks around the empty apartment like it personally offends him. “Ben did. He said you’d say this shit, by the way. Said you’d kick and scream and act like the world is ending. Said to be gentle. But don’t let that confuse you, I’m not here to play therapist.”
“Oh, thank God.” I roll my eyes. “Because you’d make a terrible one.”
“You’re not wrong.” His mouth tugs into a humorless smirk. “So do us both a favor and save the tantrum for later. Grab your shit. We’ve got a car downstairs waiting.”
“There’s nothing left to grab,” I snap. “He took it all.”
“Less things to carry, then. Let’s go.”
“You don’t even care that he—what? Broke into my apartment? Had people touching my things? How is that okay to you?”
“It’s not my job to care. My job is to keep you breathing and under control. To place you where he asked me to place you.”
“Oh, poor you.” I walk a slow circle around him like I’m sizing him up for a fight I might actually take. “Babysitting the big bad mob boss’s new project. I bet you’re thrilled.”
He doesn’t blink. “You have no idea.”
I jab a finger at his chest. “Then go back and tell your boss that I want my stuff returned. All of it. Or I’m not going anywhere.
I’m not a puppet, Artem. And I’m definitely not a girl who jumps at a snap of someone’s fingers.
Go tell your boss that I’m not leaving. That I won’t go anywhere with you. ”
His jaw ticks. “Don’t put yourself in that position, Sienna. You won’t like the outcome.”
“Why?” I challenge. “You going to throw me over your shoulder? Drag me down the stairs?”
For a beat, I swear he considers it. His nostrils flare, like he’s trying to talk himself out of it.
“No,” he says finally, voice low, but there’s a slight grit to it. “I’m not allowed to touch you.”
“Thank God for that.”
“No shit.”
I scoff. “Smart man that Benedikt. Because I kick you in the balls.”
He doesn’t respond, just stares down at me like he’s waiting for me to shut up already and accept my fate.
But I won’t.
“So, what now?” I throw my hands in the air. “You just going to stand there until I magically comply? Because I’m not.”
He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out his phone. “I’m calling him.”
I snort. “Oh, good. Let’s go straight to the source of the abuse.”
He ignores me, puts the phone to his ear. “Yeah. She’s being a pain in the ass… No, I didn’t touch her… Yeah, she wants to talk to you. You sure about that?”
He shoots me a flat look, like he’s trying to warn me against what I just asked for.
Then he hands me the phone.
I take it.
Of course, I take it.
I’m not going to allow a golden opportunity like this to go by and not give Benedikt Volkov hell for what he’s done and what he’s making me do.
“Are you out of your mind?!” I say the second I hear Benedikt’s breath on the other end. “How dare you have people enter my apartment without my permission—”
“Oh, look, you’re alive,” he says casually, like this is just any other phone call. “And late.”
I rear my head back. “Excuse me?! Late?”
“You were supposed to be home an hour ago, princess. I’ve been waiting for you.”
My mouth falls open, and I look at the phone like it personally offended me. Not the man on the phone.
“Let me get this straight,” I say slowly, my blood boiling. “You sent people to rob my apartment, rerouted everything I own, and now you’re mad I didn’t show up on your schedule?”
“I sent them to relocate you,” he says coolly. “And yes. I expected punctuality.”
“You’re a psycho.”
“You’re dramatic.”
“You’re controlling.”
“You’re mine.”
My entire body goes still.
Something sharp cracks through my chest—not just fury or disgust.
Something else.
Something low and dangerous and unwanted that tightens between my thighs before I can shove it away.
I hate that he can say something like that, and my pulse doesn’t even hesitate to react.
I hate him. I hate him.
I press the phone harder against my ear. “I’m not yours. I don’t belong to you, Benedikt. You don’t get to manage my life. You’re not in it. I want my things back. And. I. Want. Them. Now.”
“You made a deal.”
What in the world is up with these men?
“I haven’t signed anything.”
“You will,” he says, like it’s inevitable. Like I’m inevitable. “Because you care about that old woman more than you hate me. And your father—”
“Don’t talk about him,” I ground out, clutching the phone tighter. “He gave me away like I was nothing. He doesn’t get to be part of this conversation. You’re just as bad as he is. I cut him off for a reason. Now, I still get to suffer for what he did.”
There’s a pause on the other end.
Good. Let him feel the weight of that.
I’m here because of my dad. Not because of any other reason.
Oh, and the man on the other side of this phone call is a control freak who doesn’t understand the word no.
I glance up, catching Artem’s annoyed posture. He’s pacing in front of my door now, like he’s counting how many ways this day has gone to shit.
“Fine,” Benedikt snarls on the other line. “You win, princess. Enjoy it while you can because, before the ink dries on our contract, you’ll never get another one.”
It sounds like a looming threat, but I’m too angry to allow it to soak in.
“Where is it?”
“You’ll have it tonight.”
“Fine. But, until then, I’m not going anywhere until I read it. Every page. Every disgusting little clause. And I approve it. Otherwise, we have nothing. And I’m not your anything.”
Another pause. A long one.
And I almost believe he hung up on me when he finally speaks.
“You really like testing limits, don’t you, princess?”
“Get used to it.”
Then I hang up on him, not giving him a chance to say anything else.
But I still feel it.
The way his last words crawl under my skin, low, dark, and possessive. I hate that he affects me. I hate that part of me is curious what he meant by waiting for me. I hate that, for one split second, I wondered what would’ve happened if I had gone to the penthouse with him, waiting for me.
I drag a hand through my hair, shoving the thoughts away.
But Benedikt’s voice? It lingers. That bastard always lingers.
Artem stares at me, phone still in my hand.
“Ballsy,” he mutters.
I toss the phone back to him. “He’ll live…unfortunately.”
Artem’s phone pings with a text, and he immediately looks down at it. “You’re in trouble.”
Goosebump ripple along my flesh in warning. “Who cares?”
“You will.” He glances up at me, hazel eyes glossy with indifference. “He’s not happy.”
“Neither am I.”
“You’re making this harder on yourself.” I tsk because I didn’t do anything to myself. He did. “You sure you wanna do this?”
I give him a curt nod, prompting Artem to turn on his heels, stride through my door, and softly close the door shut.