Chapter 2 – Sienna
SIENNA
Move, Sienna. Do anything except stand there like an idiot.
My brain screams the command, but my numb body refuses to cooperate.
I’m frozen in the middle of the restaurant floor, wearing my awful polyester uniform, tray dangling from my fingertips by my side, staring at a man I thought I’d never see again.
A ghost, who’s staring right back with an expression I can’t read, but even from all the way over here, I can tell it’s not one of joy at seeing me again.
Someone calls his name, and the spell breaks.
Luca turns away first and impatiently accepts the handshake of an older man in a pinstripe suit. His smile is brief, forced, and doesn’t reach his eyes.
When he glances back at me, there’s no warmth there. No recognition of what we once were, just a hard disdain that makes my stomach clench.
I’m not sure how I thought he’d react if we ever came face-to-face again, but this cold detachment stings more than anything else I’d imagined.
Reeling from the shock of seeing him, the realization of who I’m surrounded by, and the gut-punch of the man I adored looking at me like I’m a stranger, I take one step back, then another.
Chest constricting, I suck in a lungful of air, a definite urge to flee taking over.
Suddenly light-headed and off-balance, I reach out, clutching the arm of a man beside me who stares down at me in confusion.
“Sorry,” I mutter, retreating further, still unable to peel my eyes away from Luca.
His fiancé leans in, red lips brushing his ear, and he nods at whatever she says, bending slightly so she doesn’t have to stretch up to speak to him.
Her hand settles gently on his forearm, but as she speaks, her gaze glides around the room, and when he leans back to catch her eye, the smile she gives him is dazzling.
She’s beautiful. The type of woman I know his father would be pleased to see him with.
Rebecca appears at my side with a steadying hand, smiling politely at the guests giving me curious looks. She glances around, trying to work out what’s wrong, before bringing her head close to mine to whisper, “Sienna, what happened? Did one of these fuckers touch you?”
I drag my attention away from Luca’s glamorous bride-to-be and shake my head emphatically, knowing I need to rein Rebecca in before she does something we’ll both regret. “No, nothing like that.”
It feels like the walls are closing in. I gulp in some air, but it doesn’t help with the weird floating feeling that’s making my head heavy, and my vision swim.
Clinking cutlery in the background seems louder while the conversations happening right next to me sound muffled.
She looks at me with concern, holding my elbow more firmly now to keep me upright. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”
“I’m fine.” I lie, giving myself a shake and turning my lips up in what I hope looks like a perfectly normal smile.
“You’re not fine. You’re shaking.” Her narrowed eyes dart between me and the entrance where my gaze is locked onto Luca’s large frame.
Here. Real, and not a figment of my imagination.
Rebecca runs her hands up and down my arms before catching my hands in hers. “Is it him? The owner? What did he say to you?”
Shaking my head, I tug my hands back from hers and wipe my clammy palms on my black apron.
“No. It doesn’t matter,” I say. “Come on. We need to keep working before David freaks out.”
I force myself to turn toward a high-top table beside me, to put one foot in front of the other, and ignore Rebecca’s hissed order to sit down and take a break.
My skin tingles, knowing Luca’s watching me, even with my back turned, but I focus on the task at hand. Fingers trembling as I load empty glasses onto my tray, I’m desperate for any kind of distraction from the nightmare unfolding around me.
For years, I dreamt of seeing him again. But right now, there’s nothing I want more than the ground to open up and swallow me. This isn’t how I wanted him to remember me.
The girl he left behind was vibrant, ambitious, and on her way to a successful career, all bright and bubbly. Not exhausted and struggling, still clawing her way out of the hole his family threw me into.
Humiliation and anger burns inside me. I’ve worked so hard to get back to where I should have been all along, and now Luca Calvano is back, standing in my restaurant, looking at me like I’m the one who wronged him rather than the other way around.
Turning away before he sees the heat rising up my neck, I’m reaching for another empty glass when a shadow falls over me.
“Miss.”
I look up to find one of Luca’s henchmen, the one with the neck tattoo, standing too close for comfort. His tone is polite, but his eyes are flat as I inch back, reclaiming my space.
“You need to leave,” he says simply.
I blink up at him. “Excuse me?”
“This is a private party. You should go.” The guard pushes back his shoulders, making himself look bigger and more intimidating, but keeps his voice quiet, no doubt, hoping to avoid a scene.
My stomach drops.
This isn’t a suggestion, it’s an order. From Luca.
He wants me gone.
As disbelief gives way to rage, I glance over the security guard’s shoulder to where Luca has moved further into the room, studiously avoiding looking in my direction as he’s greeted warmly by friends and family.
His beautiful fiancé, though, is watching me with interest.
Years of keeping my head down, of being pleasant and agreeable because that’s what survivors do, are pressing against my lungs, making it hard to get enough air. More eyes land on me as I fight the tremble in my lips.
“I work here,” I say reasonably. He can’t just tell me to leave.
The guard glances toward Luca, who gives him a subtle nod to continue throwing me out. “Not tonight.”
No, no. He can’t do this to me.
Faces swim behind him as I struggle to comprehend what’s happening. I recognize one of Luca’s brothers, and my humiliation deepens.
“I was assigned to the bar section by my manager. If there’s been a change, he can tell me himself.” I hesitate, meeting the guard’s eyes. “There won’t be any trouble, I swear. Please.”
When he shakes his head, my eyes clash with Luca’s, and he finally realizes why I’m here.
Luca’s eyes travel to my uniform, to the apron around my waist, and confusion flickers across his face. Then something worse. Pity. And it cuts, because sympathy from him is the last thing I want.
The guard’s serious expression, though, doesn’t falter. “Mr. Calvano would prefer—”
Panic builds inside me. Next semester’s tuition is due. Losing this job would topple my carefully stacked house of cards instantly.
“I don’t care what Mr. Calvano would prefer.” The words come out sharper than I intend. “I need this job. I haven’t done anything wrong, so unless you plan on picking me up and carrying me out that door, kicking and screaming, I’m staying and finishing my shift.”
The light vanishes from the guard’s eyes. His hand comes up to grip my elbow, calling my bluff. I’m betting on him wanting to do this discreetly, but maybe these people don’t care if he manhandles me out the door.
“Don’t make this difficult,” he warns through gritted teeth, but instead of convincing me to go along willingly, his touch makes my whole body go rigid. “You don’t want to cause a scene.”
Luca’s fiancé continues her conversation, polite smile fixed in place, but her shoulders turn, just a fraction, aware something is happening.
“You mean you don’t want me to cause a scene.” I yank my arm back, rubbing my elbow as I glare up at him. “Get your hands off me.”
The guard, frustrated now, and used to getting his way, reaches for me again, and I flinch back, but suddenly, he’s not there anymore.
Luca is standing just a few feet away, regarding me with cool indifference, but ropes of tendons stand out in his neck, and his teeth are clenched hard.
He’s not as calm and collected as he’s letting on.
“I said speak to her.” He growls, darkness flashing in his eyes as he glares at his guard. “I didn’t say put your fucking hands on her.”
The man’s face turns pale, looking around him for support. Or an escape route. “Sir, I—”
He doesn’t get the chance to finish his explanation.
“Walk away. Now.” Luca’s demeanor remains composed, acting like there’s nothing to see here for the benefit of his guests, but his guard knows better, retreating hastily without another word.
The crowd around us falls oddly quiet, conversations faltering as people turn to stare, but thankfully, Luca’s fiancé saunters over, long red hair swaying with each step, and a bright smile on her pretty face.
“Luca, darling. Could you order me a drink?” She gives me a lingering look and a small smile, her striking green eyes curious rather than unfriendly, before accepting the champagne from Luca’s outstretched hand.
“Let the woman work, Luca. I’m sure they’re going to need all the help they can get tonight. ”
She turns one hand palm up and glances around at the busy room and the packed bar.
With a melodic laugh and the immediate tension diffused, she turns to engage the people nearby in conversation, raising a glass in cheers.
She’s the perfect host, and they’re quickly distracted, drawn in by her enigmatic smile.
With his fiancé providing the perfect distraction, Luca turns, nothing but irritation in his once warm brown eyes.
“Sienna,” he growls, my name on his lips sounding like a curse. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Nice.
It’s clear from his genuine surprise he doesn’t just mean tonight. He means in life. This isn’t what he expected of me.
Well, that makes two of us.
“I–”
Before I can decide whether to tell him the embarrassing truth or an elaborate lie, or just make an excuse to flee, a sharp crack cuts through the room.
For a split second, I think someone dropped a champagne bottle. Then the front window explodes inward. A waterfall of shattered glass showers across the floor and patio, screams ripping through the air as everyone dives for cover.
“Shooter!” someone yells.
“Get down,” Luca roars, and I flinch, hunching over, raising my hands to cover my head. He shoves his guard hard toward his fiancé, who’s clutching her stomach, staring wide-eyed as blood coats her fingers.
“Kate!” someone cries out, followed by a chorus of shocked gasps as her legs buckle, the man beside her barely catching her before she crumples to the floor.
Another deafening crack sounds as ricocheting bullets pass close by, then the guard falls with a pained shout, hands gripping his thigh.
“Fuck. Get her out of here, now,” Luca demands, drawing a weapon from somewhere behind his back as he gestures toward the back of the restaurant.
Red blooms across Kate’s pale silk gown as another enforcer appears from nowhere and hooks an arm under her legs before carrying her toward the kitchen.
Men around me draw weapons, all facing the front windows, providing cover as Luca runs, when there’s another crack. This time, from the opposite direction, tearing through the air where my head was a half second ago.
“Shit,” someone yells. “There are two of them.”
More screams. People rush for the exits, scrambling across the shards of glass on hands and knees, or taking their chances and sprinting through the now wide-open front wall.
Spinning toward the bar, I freeze. A figure dressed in black stands near the corridor to the rear exit, face hidden by a ski mask, and gun raised toward the crowd.
Another loud pop.
Luca launches himself at me, his body slamming into mine as we crash to the floor.
My skull strikes the tile, and stars explode across my vision.
His hand covers mine, pressing it flat against the cold floor, dark ink curling around his wrist where before, when I knew him, there was none. And beneath the expensive cologne, a familiar scent, one that I smelled on his forgotten clothes long after he was gone.
It has no right to steady me, not now, but it does, staving off the panic threatening to overwhelm me.
“Luca, what’s…” I whisper, but he ignores me completely, focused on directing the men waiting for orders.
“The front. Go,” Luca barks, and his men move instantly, guns raised, disappearing through the shattered window frame as the sound of a motorcycle engine rips down the street.
I twist, trying to see what’s happening and where Rebecca is, but Luca’s substantial weight pins me down, his arm shielding my head and pressing me to the floor.
“Sienna?” Rebecca’s frantic voice cuts through the panic. She’s crouched behind an overturned table with David, reaching toward me, fingers curling, beckoning frantically.
Get away from him, her eyes say.
I open my mouth to call back to her, but Luca’s hand closes over it.
“Stop talking and stay down,” he growls against my ear, low and husky, shifting to cover more of my body with his. “Be quiet and don’t fucking move.”
While Luca’s attention is on the blown-out glass wall, on the far side of the bar, the other shooter lurks in the shadows of the hallway, gun still raised as he watches the chaos.
Striking blue eyes find mine, and he slowly shifts position and points the gun in my direction.
Fear lodges in my throat, choking me, waiting for the next shot to ring out, but instead, he brings a single finger to his lips.
With Luca’s hand clamped firmly over my mouth, I can’t warn anyone anyway. Instead, I tug on Luca’s arm, trying to bring his attention to where the man is, but then the figure in black steps back into the darkness and disappears.