Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
SIENNA
The moment the car pulls up to the estate, I realize Alessandro has no intention of letting my feet touch the ground. He lifts me out of the seat before I can even protest, his arms locking around me like iron bands.
"Alessandro, seriously, I can walk," I say, a breathless laugh bubbling up in my throat despite the aching bruises. "I am fine. I promise."
He doesn't answer. His jaw is a rigid line of granite as he carries me through the front doors and straight up the grand staircase.
"This is ridiculous," I mutter, rolling my eyes against his shoulder. It was just a few days ago we were playing out this exact same scenario in the hospital.
He carries me into our bedroom and lays me down on the mattress with agonizing gentleness, as if I might shatter if he moves too fast. Before I can even sit up, the door opens to admit a medical team into the room.
“When did you even get this ready?” I ask, unable to hold back a laugh.
He doesn’t respond to me, his entire attention is on the team.
“Check every single inch of her,” he barks. “Make sure she’s completely okay. Please.”
At least, he’s saying please this time.
I sigh, leaning back against the pillows, but beneath the exhaustion, a profound wave of relief washes over me. It is a physical weight lifting off my chest.
Luca is done. Pietro is gone. The shadow that has been looming over my entire existence has completely vanished.
I am safe. I can actually walk outside, breathe fresh air, and have breakfast with my sisters in public without looking over my shoulder.
And looking up at the fierce, protective storm in my husband's eyes, I know down to my bones how deeply he cares for me.
I stay completely still, letting the doctors do their work, my eyes never leaving Alessandro.
After about ten minutes, the lead doctor finally steps back, offering Alessandro a reassuring nod.
“She’s completely fine,” he says. “No internal damage—just a collection of nasty bruises.”
They clean the scrapes, wrap bandages around the worst of them, and hand over a fresh prescription of painkillers with the strict instruction that I need to rest.
As they pack up their bags and start to leave, I look past them to the dried blood staining my husband's clothes. "Check Alessandro too," I tell them.
"Get out. I'm fine," Alessandro barks, cutting them off before they can even move toward him.
The doctors don't need to be told twice; they quickly exit the room. I roll my eyes as Alessandro finally sits down beside me on the edge of the mattress. The rigid tension in his shoulders bleeds out just a fraction, but his eyes are still dark with the remnants of the day's terror.
"You will be the death of me, Sienna," he mutters, his voice a low, rough rumble. "If anything happens to you, I will die."
A soft laugh escapes me, and I reach out to touch his arm. "I'm sorry."
His expression hardens slightly as the adrenaline fades, replaced by the need for answers. "What happened? I told you to come straight home with Camilla."
"I was going to," I say, the memory of the trap making my throat tighten. I tell him everything—how I thought I was answering a text from my sister, only to find Pietro on the other end. "Pietro had Camilla's phone."
Alessandro's brows furrow into a deep, dangerous frown. "How the hell is that possible?"
"I don't know," I say with a small shrug, a cold shiver running down my spine. "When I asked him, he just threatened me."
Alessandro stares at me for a long beat, his thumb sweeping over my cheek before he leans down and kisses me.
It's a deep, possessive kiss that tastes of relief and lingering fear.
When he finally pulls away, I look up at him, my mind already racing to the pieces we still need to glue back together.
"I need my phone," I tell him. "I need to call Daniela. I have to check on Camilla, make sure she's actually fine, and find out how her phone ended up in Pietro's hands."
Then, a sharp jolt of panic hits me and I gasp. "My phone... I don’t even have it. After Pietro kidnapped me, they searched me and took it."
Alessandro doesn't miss a beat. He reaches into his jacket, pulls out his own phone, and flips it open. "I don't have your sister's number," he says, his thumb hovering over the screen. "Only Massimo's."
"Call him," I say instantly, leaning forward. "Just call him."
He dials the number, putting it on speaker as the line rings. My father answers after five rings.
Alessandro's entire aura turns hostile at the sound of the man's voice. He doesn't waste time on pleasantries. In a cold, calculated tone, he lays out everything that just happened—the ambush, the kidnapping, and the bloodbath at the warehouse.
On the other end of the line, there is a heavy, detached silence.
When my father finally speaks, his voice is devoid of any real warmth or concern.
"That’s unfortunate," he says smoothly, as if we are discussing a minor logistical delay rather than his daughter almost being murdered. "But I’m quite busy right now and won’t be able to come over to see her right now. "
Alessandro’s brow furrows, a dark, dangerous scowl twisting his features. He opens his mouth, and I know with absolute certainty that he is about to rip my father to shreds. Before the first curse can leave his lips, I reach out, touching his arm warmly, and gently slide the phone from his grip.
“Hello, Dad.”
“What?” My father barks at me.
“It’s me, Sienna.”
“Who else would it be?” He asks. “What do you want?”
"Can Camilla and Daniela come over instead?" I ask into the receiver, trying to keep my voice steady despite the ache in my chest.
"Why?" my father responds, his tone flat and inconvenienced.
For a second, the words catch in my throat. I don't even know what to say. How do I explain to my own father that I just need my sisters after almost facing execution?
He lets out a harsh scoff before I can answer. "You’re not dead, Sienna. You’re alive. You can’t keep running to call your sisters every single time you go through something. They have their own lives to live. You need to learn to stand on your own feet."
A familiar, cold numbness washes over me. "Okay," I whisper.
Beside me, Alessandro’s eyes flash with pure fury. He frowns deeply, reaching out to yank the phone back, but I shake my head and pull it out of his reach. I don't want them tearing into each other right now. I just want my sisters.
I sigh, forcing myself to look past my father's cruelty. "Can I just talk to Camilla and Daniela right now, then?"
He lets out an irritated growl. "I am in the middle of a meeting, Sienna. I cannot do that right now."
"I lost my phone," I press on, desperation making my voice small. "I don't have their numbers anymore."
He scoffs again, the sound clipping through the speaker. "Fine. I will have someone send Daniela’s contact over to this number. Camilla lost her phone at the mall." There is a rustle of papers on his end before he adds, "Is that all? Give the phone back to Alessandro."
I hand the mobile back to my husband, whose jaw is clenched so tightly I can see the muscle ticking.
"I will come over this evening. Six p.m.," my father tells Alessandro, his voice carrying that familiar, unearned authority. "I need to talk to you."
Alessandro grips the phone, his eyes locked on mine, burning with a promise of retribution. "Wonderful," Alessandro says, his voice dripping with an icy, menacing sarcasm. "Because yes, we absolutely need to talk."
Without waiting for a reply, Alessandro hangs up, plunging the bedroom back into a heavy silence.
"What the fuck is his problem?" Alessandro growls, tossing the phone onto the mattress. "I absolutely hate him."
A dry laugh escapes my throat. I can't even find the energy to scold him for talking about my father that way. Not when he's completely right.
"Dad said Camilla lost her phone at the mall," I say, trying to piece the timeline together in my head.
Alessandro stops pacing, his eyes narrowing as the tactical side of his brain takes over. "That's probably how Pietro got his hands on it. A stray scout tracking her, waiting for a slip-up."
Before he can elaborate, his phone beeps with an incoming text. He checks the screen, his expression smoothing out marginally. "Your father just sent Daniela's number. I'm calling her."
"Thank you," I breathe, relief flooding me as he dials and places the call.
The line rings only twice before a guarded voice answers. "Hello. Who is this?"
Alessandro seamlessly hands the phone over to me. I press it to my ear, my voice cracking slightly. "Hi, Dani."
"Sienna? Oh my god, hi," Daniela says, her tone instantly shifting from defensive to deeply concerned. "Are you okay? You sound completely stressed. Whose phone is this?”
"Alessandro’s. I'm fine," I say softly, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Is Camilla with you?"
"Hold on, I'll head to her room right now," Daniela says, the background noise changing as she walks through their house. "Sienna, are you sure you're fine?"
"It's a long story. I'll tell you both together."
A sudden, sharp knock echoes through our bedroom door. Alessandro glances at me, gesturing that he'll get it, and leaves me on the bed to cross the room.
On the other end of the line, I hear the muffled sound of a door opening, followed by Daniela's voice calling out, "Cami, Sienna is on the line."
A second later, Camilla’s breathless voice comes through the speaker. "Hi, Sienna!"
"Cami," I cut straight to the point, my heart racing. "Where is your phone?"
"I lost it at the mall days ago, or it was stolen," she says, sounding genuinely frustrated. "I don't even know how it happened. One second I had it in my bag, and the next it was just gone. Why? Did Dad tell you?"
"No," I whisper, staring at the empty space on the bed beside me.
Before I can start telling them the horrific truth of where that phone actually ended up, Alessandro walks back into the bedroom. His posture is rigid again.
"I have to go," he says, his voice clipped and tight. "The elders just called an impromptu meeting. It sounds urgent."
"Okay," I say, shifting slightly against the pillows. "I'll call my sisters back when you get home."
"No," he insists, pushing the phone back into my hand. "Keep it. Finish your conversation." He leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against my cheek. His breath is warm against my skin as he murmurs, "I'll get you a new phone on my way back. Rest well, Sienna."
"Okay," I answer softly. I hold the phone to my ear, watching his tall, commanding silhouette disappear through the doorway, leaving me alone with my sisters' voices on the line.
"He loves you, Sienna," Camilla says softly, her voice carrying a sweet, wistful sincerity through the line. "I’m so happy for you."
“Me too,” Daniela adds. “Dad is probably seething with how well this turned out.”
A breathy giggle escapes me, though it stings the bruised muscle in my cheek.
"He hasn’t said he loves me, Camilla. But...
I know he cares." I take a slow, steadying breath, the absolute horror of the afternoon rushing back to fill the quiet room.
"Now I’ll tell you exactly where your phone ended up, Cami. "