Chapter 28 Sienna
SIENNA
I crept down the hallway, my insomnia weighing heavily on me.
I was used to taking weed gummies to help me sleep, but little Eclair made that impossible, so I was stuck wandering the halls like a ghost. Wasn’t that the plot of Jane Eyre?
A ghostly wife trapped in the attic, haunting a brooding man named Heathcliff or something? I’d have to ask Juliet.
I felt like a ghost in this house—sad, lonely, and easily forgotten.
It was too fucking quiet. I was used to living in an apartment building that was always a bustle of activity from Clementine laughing as she crawled down the hallway, Queenie ruling over Noodle with her iron scepter, and entire floors dedicated to training facilities and gun ranges that were always filled with Mafia soldiers I could harass.
Hmm. Maybe that’s why I was feeling so lost these days. I was going through prank withdrawal. Throughout the years, I’d developed precise strategies to get a rise out of grumpy Mafia men. Maybe it was time I put my skills to the test with my husband.
Husband.
Husbandhusbandhusband.
No matter how many times I said it, I couldn’t make sense of it.
Especially since I never saw him. The diamond on my finger caught the light, and I clenched my hand into a fist. The ring was perfect.
Somehow, it was exactly what I would have picked out for myself, and that irritated the fuck out of me.
Leaving the ring box on my pillow was the definition of an uncaring, low-effort move.
I should hate the ring as much as I did the man who had given it to me, but that stupidly perfect diamond made my heart flutter every time I saw it.
What a bastard.
Maybe I should just read Jane Eyre myself.
Something to fill my time. I snorted, the soft sound breaking the house’s heavy silence.
I had scraped through school, much more interested in making friends than paying attention to lessons.
The snide comments from the teachers at my small private school had further chipped away any desire I had to apply myself, so eventually I stopped trying.
I’d hidden most of my report cards from Matteo.
On the rare occasion he found one, he would sigh heavily and tell me I was too smart to be almost failing.
When I finally got diagnosed with ADHD at the end of high school, all the puzzle pieces clicked into place.
I wasn’t lazy or stupid or any of the million horrible things I’d believed about myself.
It hurt to know how much easier school could have been if I’d had the right support, but at least I got accommodations in time for college.
I hadn’t planned to go, but Leona had fussed at me until I gave in.
What, are you just going to be a stay-at-home Mob wife? Live a little, Sienna.
We enrolled at NYU and I had my first-ever taste of freedom.
Suddenly, I had a life—places to be, people to talk to, and a Halal food cart where I became a regular.
Those were the years before the Albanians wreaked havoc on the city and threatened my life.
Things were calmer than they had been since my papà was Don.
My bodyguards were still there, but they trailed me from a distance.
NYU was also the first time I experienced being good at something. Computer programming, and later hacking, came easily to me, and I finally started believing my brother’s words—I wasn’t stupid.
The past two weeks since marrying Dimitri, I’d been focused on learning Russian and completing home renovations.
The lead contractor—who, to my great surprise, was a woman—had come by last week to discuss the next steps of the massive project.
Dimitri’s men had moved all my stuff out of my room while the construction crew installed the floors and, at my request, a dark floral-patterned wallpaper.
Maybe I should take on another hacking job.
I could choose one that was especially low-risk.
Maybe I’d even take on some pro bono work to fill my time.
I liked to think of myself as an ethical hacker…
not that I followed the principles I’d learned in my classes.
I had my own ethical code. I’d never written it down, but maybe I should…
I could make it look all pretty and official and frame it by my computer.
Yes, I liked that idea. I just needed paper.
Fancy paper. And one of those cool fountain pens.
Or a calligraphy brush. I turned on my heel and headed down the hall to Dimitri’s office.
I didn’t expect him to have craft supplies, but I could at least steal some paper and pens to get started. What should my ethical code be? Hmmm…
Rule 1: Men are the worst. Make their lives harder.
Rule 2: Steal from the rich because it’s fun.
Rule 3: …
Maybe I should write the rules with gel pens. Wait, I might have some in my suitcase or purse.
Did I own gel pens?
I turned around again, meandering back to my room and trying to visualize the location of gel pens that may or may not exist.
What I really needed was cardstock to write on. Regular computer paper wouldn’t work for an official document like this.
Rule 3: Always use the appropriate weight paper to match your writing tool.
A loud shout broke the silence and I leapt into the air with a shrill screech.
I pressed my back against the wall and wrapped my arms around my midsection.
Of course, this was the one night Vovk had stayed outside.
Polina had told me through the translation app that he spent some days hunting to supplement the meat he was given.
My heart pounded, and I worked to quiet my breathing.
“You okay, little Eclair?” I murmured. “You heard that too, right? Maybe I’m not the only ghost in this house.”
Silence again.
And then—
A shout, even louder this time and coming from down the hall.
I took off towards it because…well, I clearly had no self-preservation skills, but also because it sounded like Dimitri was being attacked and it would be really inconvenient if he died before I got to prank him. He would probably just ignore me in ghost form, which boringgggg.
I skidded to a stop outside his room and before I let the pesky fact that I didn’t have a weapon (or common sense) stop me, I threw the door open.
It slammed against the wall in an earth-shattering crack.
I released a battle cry as my slipper arched through the air, landing on the shadowy figure looming over my husband with a quiet slap.
A shout, a string of curses, and then the bedside lamp turned on.
“What the fuck, Sienna?” Dimitri roared. His blond hair was sticking up in an adorably sleep-mussed way, but his eyes were filled with rage.
I blinked as I looked around the room to find…
no one. “Huh.” My eyes were drawn back to Dimitri’s bare chest the bed where a stack of fluffy pillows caught my eye.
“So I might have misinterpreted things and the attacker was actually a pillow, but you should feel honored that I was willing to risk my life and favorite slipper for you.” I drummed my fingers against my arm.
“Although now that I see you’re safe, I will want it back. It’s a limited edition.”
Dimitri picked up the slipper as though it were a bomb. “It’s the middle of the night and you decided to come here and attack me with a…what the fuck is this?”
He tossed it back at me, face filled with disgust, and I gasped.
“You’re going to hurt Sven’s feelings.” I kissed my Hot Dog Wiener Dog slipper on the forehead before putting him back on my foot where he belonged.
Dimitri had apparently been robbed of speech, which was a common occurrence when people gazed upon Sven’s majestic visage, but it gave me a chance to take him in.
My dramatic entrance had clearly woken him, but the longer I observed him, the more certain I became that the shouts I’d heard had come from him.
His eyes were wild and bloodshot, there was a sheen of sweat on his chest, and his sheets were tangled around him.
My chest squeezed.
I pulled the door away from the wall, pointedly ignoring the dent the doorknob had left in the drywall when I threw it open, and carefully clicked it shut.
“What are you—”
I crossed his bedroom to what I hoped was the door to the bathroom. Aha, yes. Here we go.
I turned the light on, squinting against the horribly bright bulb. “You have got to get a dimmer installed in here. And what the hell are these bulbs? Probably some five thousand Kelvin daylight nonsense. Don’t worry, I’ve already ordered warm white bulbs for the entire house.”
I returned to the bedroom, grabbed the lamp on the nightstand, and carried it to the bathroom while Dimitri gaped at me. I pursed my lips, looking for the best spot to put it that was within reach of the outlet. It balanced perfectly on the closed toilet seat. Amazing. Time to run a bath.
The tub was large and freestanding, although the overall room design was a bit uninspired.
White marble floor, white walls, modern white tub.
Yawn. My bathroom back home was all pink tiles, pink toilet, and gold fixtures, decorated with candles and art in gold-gilded frames, plus the bath essentials like a towel warmer.
Goosebumps prickled up my arm from the cold.
Yes, he definitely needed a towel warmer and heated floors.
“What are you doing?”
Dimitri’s sleep-drenched voice pulled me from my cabinet rummaging, and I glanced up. The man himself stood in the doorway with black sweatpants slung low on his hips. His thick arms were crossed against his bare chest, and the overly bright ceiling lights bounced off the white lines of his scars.
The ones I’d mapped with my fingertips and pressed soft kisses to in Paris.