Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SIENNA
It’s my wedding morning.
My four sisters are in the room, already dressed, looking beautiful and radiant, a stark contrast to the cold dread settling in my stomach. They hover around me, offering sweet words, murmuring gentle assurances that everything will be okay.
"You’re going to be fine, Sienna," Rosalia says softly, stepping up to adjust the veil on the vanity table. "Alessandro is powerful, yes, but so are you. You learn where his blind spots are. You learn how to build your own walls within his house."
Eleonora nods in agreement, lifting a delicate pearl bracelet to fasten around my wrist. "She’s right. The first few months are the hardest, but you’ll find a rhythm. It’ll be okay, I promise."
“Yeah, right,” I let out a breathless laugh. I don’t believe a single word coming out of Eleonora or Rosalia's mouths, and clearly, neither do the younger two. None of us do, but it’s the lie we have to tell today.
Rosalia ignores my laugh and walks over to the garment bag hanging by the mirror. She carefully unzips it and takes out my wedding dress. It’s the modest one Alessandro picked out for me. The one he used to mark his territory. The one he fucked me in.
I shake my head, stepping away from her.
Without a word, I walk past them to the back of my closet and reach for the garment bag hidden behind the rows of coats. I pull it out, unzipping it to reveal the dress I really want. The provocative one.
I went back to the boutique yesterday afternoon to purchase it myself. With my own money. If I am going to be forced into a cage, if I am being bartered off into a life I didn't choose, I am going to walk down that aisle in a dress that belongs entirely to me.
Fuck what Alessandro thinks about it.
The moment the silk and sheer lace catch the light, my sisters frown.
“Why do you have two wedding dresses?” Rosalia asks.
“And don’t you think that neckline is a little low for a conservative mafia wedding?” Eleonora adds, eyeing the dress skeptically.
“It’s perfect,” Daniela says immediately.
Rosalia rolls her eyes at her before turning back to me. “Come on, Sienna. We don’t have time for this. I can already hear the music from the garden. Let’s get you into your real dress.” She lifts the other gown hanging over her arm.
I just smile and shake my head.
I smooth a hand over the silk and glance at my reflection. “I went back for this because I like this one better."
Camilla shifts on the lounge, looking between the two dresses. "Guys, it's not that bad. I think we should let her wear what she wants."
I ignore them all, walking past the noise to stand right in front of the full-length mirror. I hold the gown up against my body, watching the way the lace frames my collarbones and the silk hugs my hips.
"This is what I want to wear," I say, my reflection staring back at me with a cold certainty. "It’s my choice. Alessandro picked out the other one. I’m not wearing that.”
"Sienna, listen to reason," Eleonora pleads, her voice losing its harsh edge and giving way to genuine panic.
She comes up behind me, placing two heavy hands on my shoulders, forcing me to look at her in the glass.
"Choice is a luxury you don’t have today.
Papa is out there right now waiting for you.
If you cause any trouble, you are humiliating him in front of every family on the East Coast. He will make you pay for that humiliation before the reception is even over. "
"She's right," Rosalia chimes in, gripping the modest satin dress tighter against her chest like a shield. "If Alessandro wants you to wear this, just wear it. A marriage like this is about survival, Sienna. You don't poke the bear. Please."
I turn to then, my expression resolute. “I’m going to say a big fuck you to both papa and Alessandro today," I say, my voice cutting through their protests. "I don’t care what happens. If they want to stop the wedding because of this, then they can be my guests.”
Before they can utter another word of warning, I step into the dress.
As the delicate fabric slides up my thighs and hugs my waist, a heavy wave of conflicting emotions hits me, making my hands shake. Letting my emotions get the best of me, I blurt, “I’m so confused by everything.”
Rosalia is beside me now, completely forgetting about her issue with the dress. She pulls me into her arms, holding me tight. Sensing the crack in my armor, my other sisters instantly close the distance, surrounding me in a tight, protective circle of warmth.
"What's wrong?" Daniela asks softly, her usual playful tone completely gone. "Tell us."
Battling the hot tears threatening to spill over my lashes, I look at their worried faces.
"I am confused by everything happening with Alessandro," I confess, my voice cracking. "And the way my body reacts to him. I hate it. I hate how much power he has over me without even trying. I feel like I’m walking into a lion’s den.”
Eleonora steps in closer, her practical nature taking over even in the middle of my breakdown. "First, don’t cry. Don’t spoil your look. Your makeup took an hour."
I nod, sniffing back the tears, and gratefully take the tissue Camilla presses into my hand, gently dabbing at the corners of my eyes so nothing smudges.
Eleonora reaches out, placing a comforting hand on my arm. "It’s okay to be attracted to your husband, Sienna. It doesn’t change anything about who you are. It doesn't make you weak. Does he feel the same way?"
I swallow hard, looking down at the lace of my bodice before meeting her gaze again. I nod. "He’s attracted to me too. We’ve... we’ve had sex."
A quiet understanding passes between them. None of them look shocked or judgmental; they just nod.
"It's okay," Rosalia says gently, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "It really is."
She looks at me, her expression softening into something deeply earnest. "Stop trying to control every feeling. Just feel. You don't have to fight your own body while you're fighting everything else. Take things slow. It’ll be okay."
Before I can process her words, a sharp, heavy knock echoes against the wood of the bedroom door.
"Two minutes, ladies," a guard's voice calls out from the hallway. "It’s time."
The warmth evaporates. A collective, heavy sigh ripples through my sisters. Rosalia drops the modest dress onto the bed with a defeated look, while Daniela and Camilla exchange anxious glances.
The clock has run out. War or peace, it's time to walk.
Rosalia and Eleonora flank me as I walk down the grand staircase, the luxurious silk and sheer lace of my chosen dress whispering against the wood with every step. My heart is beating wildly in my chest, a frantic, erratic rhythm that threatens to choke me.
I’m marrying Alessandro today.
Do I want this?
Of course, I don’t!
Men like Alessandro, powerful, ruthless men like him, have no real respect for women.
They never see women as their equals. To them, we are chess pieces, alliances, or possessions.
And don’t even get me started on the abuse.
I’ve seen it firsthand. I know the dark, hidden bruises that come with a syndicate marriage.
Alessandro has never abused me in any way—if anything, his dark protectiveness has felt like a shield—but...
but that doesn’t mean he won’t. He’s probably just biding his time until the vows are spoken and the ring is securely on my finger.
That way, he knows there will be no escape for me.
Once I belong to him legally, the mask can slide off.
My heart thunders against my ribs, a terrifying crescendo. God. I can’t do this. I really can’t do this.
Just as the panic threatens to paralyze my legs, Rosalia gently touches my arm as we step out the back door toward the sunlit garden. She leans in close, her voice a soothing whisper against the roar in my ears.
"It’s okay," she says softly, her eyes searching mine. "You’ll be fine, Sienna."
I manage a stiff, tight nod. I don’t believe her for a single second, but there is absolutely nothing I can do.
The machinery of two massive empires is already in motion.
I am entirely powerless to stop this, and all I can do right now is square my shoulders, lift my chin, and walk straight into the lion's den.