26. Sienna
SIENNA
M y eyes flutter open, and I stretch my arms above my head before wiping a bit of drool from my mouth. Then I suddenly jerk upright, my gaze going to the spot beside me that is now empty.
I look around the spacious room, realizing Nikolai is nowhere in sight. What time is it? Out of habit, I go to grab my phone from my bedside table, then remember I haven’t had it now for weeks.
The truth is, I don’t feel as compelled to use it. In an unconventional way, it’s become liberating to not be so connected. Perhaps not for my online presence, but for me.
I slip from beneath the pale-pink silk sheets, my body aching and bruised from the way Nikolai marked and fucked me last night. I throw on a pair of loose sweatpants and a beige crop top .
I slept like the dead, and for the first time in a long time, I feel somewhat rejuvenated. I yawn, raking my fingers through my hair, not even tempted to see what kind of bird’s nest mess it’s in.
At the bottom of the stairs, I spot Andrei first. He’s sitting on the sofa, reading the same book he was on the plane.
“Good morning, Andrei,” I say with a pep in my step. I feel the freest I’ve felt in a long time, which is ironic.
He seems surprised by my chipper tone but says, “Good morning, Miss Falcone.”
A delectable smell reaches my nose, and I follow it toward the kitchen. That is until I glance out the glass doors that lead to the balcony, where I spot Nikolai with his back to the city, looking down at what appears to be a newspaper.
It’s a strange image. He almost looks like a civilized man, if it weren’t for all the tattoos covering his bare chest. That low throb begins between my legs once again.
When I open the door, he looks up, and the fire in his eyes reignites. It’s the same way he was looking at me last night.
“Strange to see you reading a newspaper,” I say.
The city is loud and chaotic. It’s something I appreciate about it most. The urgency to move and make the most of every day. To be as busy and successful as the next person. To be important. Now it feels like background noise, and I miss the quiet of Europe.
He closes the newspaper and folds it over. “I’m disappointed in what you Americans deem as newsworthy. This is all gossip.”
A smile stretches my lips. “Ah, but we live for gossip here.” If anything, I might’ve been one of the worst perpetuators of it once, but I no longer feel as interested in such trivial things.
Perhaps after I endured my own public shame blasted everywhere, I realized the cruelty of it.
Even when I once thought it was harmless.
“Come here,” he says, splaying his knees a little more.
“Isn’t it bad if Andrei sees?” I ask quietly.
He glares at me, not leaving room for negotiation. I do as he says, because in truth, I want to be close to him. The moment I perch on his lap and he casually wraps his arms around my waist, my body sinks against him.
He makes me feel like I’m wanted and needed, opposed to simply being some kind of accessory.
It shames me to compare this to what I once thought was the love of my life before I came to realize how shallow it was.
Especially when I’m finding a spark of something else in a place I should least be searching for it.
Nikolai runs his fingers through my hair. “Your hair is diabolical this morning.”
I slap him on the chest. “Shut up. ”
He chuckles, but when Agata walks out with a tray of food, I’m quick to jump to my feet and brush over my sweatpants, as if I’d accidentally fallen into his lap.
“Good morning, Agata,” I say with a smile, one which she almost reflects back.
“Good morning, miss,” she says as she sets the tray on the table. “I brought you some black tea, some scones, and jam. Just a light breakfast this morning.”
I take the seat across from Nikolai, and my mouth salivates at the food. “Did I have ingredients for this in the pantry?” I ask.
I’d tried cooking lessons a few times, in an attempt to be the ideal fiancée. However, of all the things to come naturally to me, this was not one of them.
A buttery scone first thing in the morning is definitely not something I’d ordinarily choose for myself; however, I take into consideration all the exercise I got last night. Surely, one scone won’t hurt, and will help replenish after such strenuous activities.
“Yes, miss. The few ingredients you didn’t have, I’ve stocked.”
“Oh.” Everyone has been busy around me, and I’ve been … well, doing the same thing I’ve been doing for weeks. Which is nothing. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, the guest room is most accommodating. Though, when I woke this morning, I noticed one of the rooms was unoccupied.” She gives Nikolai a pointed look, who doesn’t see it, as he’s gone back to reading the newspaper .
Beneath the table, I rub my foot against his inner calf. His gaze lifts over the top of the newspaper, those green eyes glistening lighter in the morning sun. I bring my foot up to his crotch, my toes brushing against his cock in secret.
“Well, I for one had a wonderful sleep. Thank you for organizing this lovely meal. Perhaps you would like to join us?” I offer her.
Nikolai grabs my foot and squeezes. My heart jolts as he begins to knead all the way from my toes to my calf.
Agata pours black tea from the pot into a china cup for me. “Oh, no, miss. I couldn’t impose.” She looks at Nikolai once again, and I sense it’s because of the abnormality of this situation. I’m a prisoner, and yet I’m treating them like my guests.
Am I fucked in the head because I’ve strangely become accustomed to having them around, even with all that’s happened?
“Thank you, Agata, this looks amazing,” I say respectfully.
I want to remain in the lightness of the moment. Ignorance is bliss, but it’s also what’s troubled me in the past. Except this time, I don’t think it’s ignorance that has me feeling this way. I think it’s because I’m taking charge of this situation as best as I can.
I know what I want , I think as I glance at Nikolai, who hasn’t stopped looking at me. I just don’t know how to keep it. And in the world I live in, there is no place for him.
I look out past the balcony, at the buildings around us.
Nikolai is dancing with fire sitting out here in the open.
I don’t know how it works, but I’ve watched enough movies to consider that maybe someone could really shoot him as he lounges out here.
Then again, he’s so brazen that he probably thinks if they want to kill him, they would’ve done it already.
“This feels familiar, doesn’t it?” I ask, thinking of how we used to sit on the balcony in Croatia.
“Yes, but this is the first time you’ve come willingly.”
I startle at that. True.
It’s been ages since I’ve felt this well rested, and I don’t know if it has to do with releasing all those raw emotions that were roiling beneath the surface or from being fucked so thoroughly last night. I’d let Nikolai take complete control, and I just let it all go.
Instead of feeling uncertain around who I may become after this ordeal, I have a wild determination to just take one step at a time.
I’m tired of beating myself up with shame for prioritizing Michael’s needs over mine. And although I didn’t completely isolate myself to be at his beck and call, the shift in me was enough to know that I lost myself.
I can’t help but agree with Nikolai’s assessment that I was but a lost little girl.
I went back to London to show everyone I could do it without Michael.
To try a few small acting gigs alongside my modeling.
But now I wonder if I ever even wanted to do that at all.
Was acting something I wanted for myself, or did I want to pursue it because it was his dream?
An excitable energy buzzes inside me. There’s only one way to find out. I need to discover these small parts of myself again.
I can take what I want, without being concerned about what other people think.
Yesterday, it was unfair of me to blame my raw emotions on my friends, and I’ll make it up to them.
But now everything is a lot clearer to me.
I know what I have to do. I won’t cater to anyone else’s agenda, not even Nikolai’s.
“I want to leave the penthouse today,” I say to Nikolai.
“No.”
“I’m sorry if that sounded like a request,” I bite back, and his gaze narrows.
He puts the paper down, his expression tight. “We’re not leaving this place until?—”
“Your boss and Luca reach an agreement. I get it. But you can’t expect me to remain here as your sex doll.”
That fire blazes in his gaze again. “I much prefer that over the alternative. This is not up for negotiation.”
“I’m not one of your men.”
“No, you’re my prisoner.” It hangs in the air and stabs at my chest. His jaw tightens as his words register.
But Nikolai is nothing short of intentional.
He’s trying to push me away to keep me safe.
Or perhaps I’m a damn fool for falling for a man who might not feel the same way about me.
But I’m not ready to open that can of worms. However, that determination still pumps through my veins.
This is my life, and I’ll do what I want.
“Is that still all I am to you?” I ask.
His steely gaze remains locked on mine as I press my foot against his cock again, perhaps a little too hard.
His expression darkens in pleasure, his cock already hard and straining against his pants.
“If that’s all it is, then you can remain in your own room from now on,” I say with feigned indifference.
Electricity sparks over my skin at the guttural, disapproving sound that erupts from his throat.
An icy tension ripples through us as his mood darkens, causing an ache to bloom between my legs. “I will never force myself on you, mishka . And we are not leaving this penthouse. It’s too dangerous,” he says, as if that’s the end of discussion.