Chapter 18
Sienna
I jerk awake, and because of the extra medication I took to help me cope with the taxing day I’ve had, my mind is cloudy.
The seconds drag as I wonder what woke me. Then a pair of strong arms lock around me and pull me against a warm, solid body, and I realize Christiano is here.
My tongue feels thick as I mumble, “You’re back.”
“I had a rough night and just need to be close to you. Go back to sleep, princess.”
With sluggish movements, I manage to place my hand behind his head as he presses his face into the crook of my neck.
I try to cling to consciousness, but the medication drags me back to sleep.
When I wake up again, my eyes pop open. Christiano’s weight pushes me into the mattress, and his arms grip me so tightly, it borders on uncomfortable.
It wasn’t a dream. He’s really here.
Carefully, I begin to extract myself from beneath his body, and luckily, he’s so deeply asleep, I don’t wake him.
When I move to the side of the bed and get up, I glance at him. Seeing he’s completely naked, my jaw drops, and I blink a couple of times.
Mother of God.
My abdomen tightens with need as my eyes drift over his legs, his firm ass, trimmed waist, and broad back.
The man is a work of art.
I take in all the tattoos covering his skin. When my gaze locks on the scar on his shoulderblade, it douses my desire instantly.
Reaching for the covers that are all bundled on my side of the bed, I carefully place them over Christiano.
I tiptoe out of the bedroom and softly shut the door behind me before going to the bathroom.
I quickly relieve my bladder before going through my morning routine. Looking at the neatly folded pile of clothes Christiano left on the counter, I decide to wash them for him.
I pick up the pile, and walking to the small section beside the kitchen, I check the pockets of his pants before placing the clothes in the washing machine.
Opening the cupboard where I keep all my cleaning materials, I grab a pod and toss it into the machine before programming it to wash.
Last night I moved all my medication to this cupboard. I quickly glance down the hallway, and seeing the bedroom door is still shut, I hurry to take my morning dose.
Feeling better, knowing Christiano won’t find my boxes of pills, I prepare coffee.
I always make some for Billie and Lucio, and when I open the front door, I see a black duffel bag.
Noticing what I’m looking at, Lucio informs me, “It’s for Mr. Falco.” He gives me a grateful smile as I hand him the mugs.
Picking up the bag, I take it inside and set it down on the couch. I walk back to the kitchen, and just as I take a sip of my coffee, I hear the bedroom door open.
My eyes dart down the hallway, and seeing Christiano in all his naked glory with a hard-on that rivals The Leaning Tower of Pisa, I almost choke.
Sure, I’ve had sex with him, but today is the first time I’m getting to see him completely naked.
“You okay?” he asks, a smirk curving his mouth.
It doesn’t help that he looks stupid hot with his hair ruffled from sleep.
I point in the direction of the living room. “There’ s a bag on the couch. I really hope it contains clothes.”
“Hmm…” the sound rumbles from his chest as he enters the kitchen. Seemingly not giving a shit about being nude, he pours himself some coffee, then leans back against the counter. As he takes a sip, his eyes remain locked on me, and it makes my body heat up at the speed of light.
God, this man is dangerous in every aspect of his life.
I clear my throat before asking, “What happened after you left here last night?”
“I killed Will,” he answers, his tone unaffected as if he’s talking about something as mundane as the weather.
My eyes widen as I gasp, “Valentina’s Will?”
Christiano nods, and downing the rest of the hot liquid, he places his mug in the sink before coming to me.
“Can I ask why?”
Stopping right in front of me, he lifts his hand and brushes his knuckles down the side of my face before he leans in to press a tender kiss to my mouth.
As he pulls back and walks toward the living room, he says, “He didn’t treat Valentina right.”
Following after him, I ask, “What would you do if a man forces one of your sisters to marry him?”
“Depends who the man is.” He opens the bag and begins to get dressed as he continues saying, “If Remo forced Valentina, I’d allow it because I know he’ll treat her like the queen she is.” Christiano’s eyes lock with mine. “If it’s someone like Will Baker, I’d kill him.”
Being raised in the Cosa Nostra, I know this is how things are done, and it won’t help to continue arguing with him.
I stare at Christiano as he buttons up his dress shirt, and a sense of loss settles in my heart.
What will happen when he discovers I’m not fit to be his queen?
His eyes flick to my face, then a frown forms, and he says, “Don’t tell me you’re upset because I killed that piece of shit.”
I quickly shake my head. “I’m not. I feel for Valentina and the children. It can’t be easy going through something like this.”
His features relax again, and my gaze tracks him as he walks to the bathroom. Not caring if I’ll mind, he picks up my toothbrush, and when he doesn’t see the toothpaste anywhere on the counter, he opens the cabinet.
As he takes the tube out and flicks the cap open, his tone is brutal as he asks, “No going feral on me for opening the cupboard?”
Shit.
I freeze, and when his eyes snap to me, my lips part, but I can’t think of a single thing to say.
As he brushes his teeth, he looks inside the cabinet before shaking his head.
Jesus, now he’s going to make it his mission to find out what I’m hiding from him. How could I slip up like that?
Finally, I get an idea, and I pray I come across casually and not a nervous wreck as I say, “I moved my personal hygiene supplies to a different spot.”
Christiano rinses his mouth, and after patting it dry, he sits down on the toilet lid and puts on his boots.
Tension coils in my stomach as I wait for him to respond to see if he believes the lie.
He gets up, and crossing the floor to me, he presses a kiss to my forehead while his fingers wrap around my throat. Then he leans down and whispers, “What did I say about lying to me?”
I close my eyes, worried about what he’ll do to punish me.
I don’t have to worry for long as he pulls back and locks eyes with me. “We’re now getting married in three weeks. Keep lying, princess, and you’ll end up saying your vows to me this weekend.”
My mouth drops open as I gape at him, and before I can think, I argue, “I’m not lying!”
“Two weeks.” His black eyes dare me to keep going as the corner of his mouth lifts.
Pulling away from him, I hurry to my bedroom before I say something stupid. I grab a dress and clean underwear from my closet, and as I go to the bathroom to shower, Christiano asks, “What are your plans for today?”
I have an appointment with Dr. Kahn in an hour, but there’s no way I’m telling him that.
Staying as close to the truth as possible without giving anything away, I answer, “I’m meeting a friend at her office.”
As I set my clothes down on the counter and switch on the faucets, Christiano comes to stand in the doorway. “Which friend?”
“You don’t know her.” I take hold of the doorknob and lift my eyebrow at him. “I have to shower, or I’ll be late.”
His eyes bore into mine, then he lets out a chuckle and darkly murmurs, “Do you really think I’m going to let you meet up with someone I don’t know?”
“Jesus, Christiano,” I snap, and feeling cornered, I push against his chest to try and force him out of the doorway.
Of course, he doesn’t budge.
Anger shoots through me. “Her name is Yana Kahn. She’s a doctor and not a part of the Cosa Nostra at all.” I step into his personal space and seethe, “And don’t for one second think I’ll allow you to dictate who I can and cannot be friends with.”
The man has the nerve to grin at me as I lay into him, and it makes a frustrated sound escape me. “You’re impossible!”
He leans down and presses a kiss to my mouth, then says, “You’re cute when you’re angry.”
With parted lips, I watch as he walks to the front door while saying, “Remember to plan the wedding for two weeks from now.”
“What do I tell my parents?” I call out.
Opening the front door, his grin widens. “You’re so good at coming up with lies, I’ll leave it to you.”
When he leaves, I slam the bathroom door shut and let out a frustrated growl.
God, he’s so stubborn!
Just as I strip out of my pajamas, I hear my phone ring, and opening the door, I dart to my bedroom and pick up the device. Seeing it’s Christiano, I walk back to the bathroom as I answer, “What now?”
“Are you giving me attitude, princess?” His voice rumbles in my ear.
“Yes.” I shut the door behind me again and say, “What do you want?”
“Tell your parents I’m nervous you’re going to break things off again, and that’s why we’re getting married sooner.”
“You never get nervous,” I state the obvious.
“When it comes to you, I do,” he admits. “You have a proven track record of being a flight risk.”
My breaths rush over my lips as I stare at the steam coming from the shower.
All this back and forth about the wedding is driving me even more insane.
Giving up, I say, “I can’t do this anymore. Get the marriage licence and let's just get it over with, because you clearly don’t give a shit about me.”
“Don’t push me, Sienna.”
Done with the conversation, I hang up and put my phone on silent.
When I step into the shower, the water is already cooling. I wash my body as tears sting my eyes, and five minutes later, I switch off the faucets. After drying myself, I get dressed while trembling like a leaf.
I suck in a sharp breath, then grab hold of the counter as my lungs refuse to work. All the pressure squeezes my chest until there’s a sharp pain.
My legs give way, and as my butt hits the floor, I grab my throat and let out a strained cry.
A weird sensation skitters down my spine a second before the bathroom door slams open.
“Fuck!” Christiano drops down beside me, and I’m yanked to his chest. “Christ, Sienna.”
He holds me so tight, it stops my broken pieces from shattering all over the place.
I gasp my way through the anxiety attack, feeling incredibly fragile and small as his powerful body practically wraps around mine.
You’re going to hate me the way I hate myself.
“It’s okay, baby,” he murmurs lovingly. “We can move the date back to a month from now.”
As he begins to squeeze and rub my arms, my eyes fall shut, and I sink into his embrace.
I have no idea how much time passes before I’m able to form a coherent thought.
“Better?” Christiano asks. I nod, and as he climbs to his feet, he pulls me up along with him while saying, “I understand it’s overwhelming, but once we’re married, things will calm down.”
No, they won’t. If anything, my condition will worsen every time I’m forced to watch him leave for work and return with new bruises and wounds.
The crippling fear of Christiano dying will drive me completely insane.
My tone is emotionless as I say, “Nothing will change your mind about marrying me. Just get the wedding over with.”
He brushes his hand over my hair, slow and reverent as if he’s afraid I might break, and presses a kiss to my forehead. “I wish it didn’t have to be like this.” Pulling back, his features are torn with heartache. “I love you more than anything on this planet. I wish you could see that.”
You love the woman you fell in love with, the version of me who existed before blood and bullets rewrote my life.
That woman’s mind shattered when she thought you died.
That excruciating moment didn’t just break me. It left deep cracks no one else can see, and I feel them every day as my sanity slips through them.
There are times I think my soul did die that day, buried with the grief and shock, and only pieces of it returned after I found out Christiano survived.
When I remain quiet, Christiano lets out a sigh. “Fine. I’ll make all the arrangements and talk to our families. I’ll let you know when the wedding will take place.”
“You do that,” I whisper.
He sucks in a deep breath while shaking his head. For a moment, it looks like he’s going to say something else, but then he turns around and walks out of my apartment.
I pick up my phone and type out a short text.
Don’t come back here. I don’t want to see you until the moment I’m forced to marry you.
A few seconds later, I see Christiano read the message.
Start packing.
His reply makes a shiver sweep down my spine, and I suck in a shaky breath.