Chapter 21 – Sienna
SIENNA
Iwake slowly, drifting up from the deepest sleep I've had in years. My body feels heavy, weightless, with a pleasant ache between my thighs the only reminder of last night.
Last night.
Heat floods my cheeks as fragments come back to me. The back of the car. Luca on his knees. His mouth, his hands, the way he wrung orgasm after orgasm from me until I was begging him to stop, until I couldn't form words, until I was nothing but sensation and surrender.
And then… what?
Forcing my brain to work harder than it wants to at this early hour, I try to recall what happened next.
I remember him lifting me from the car when we arrived home, my legs too weak to carry me.
Remember the solid warmth of his chest against my cheek as he carried me inside, up the stairs, and into this room.
The soft press of his lips against my bare shoulder as he tucked the covers around me.
How he pushed my hands away when I reached for his belt.
"Go back to sleep," he'd murmured, and I'd been too far gone to argue.
Running my fingers along the luxurious fabric, I frown. The huge expanse of bed beside me is empty, the sheets cold. He didn't stay.
I'm not sure how I feel about that.
Stretching, I wince at the delicious soreness in muscles I'd forgotten I had, and reach for my phone on the nightstand before remembering I still don't have it. Now that Kate’s passing is public knowledge, I need to get it back.
Rebecca must be freaking out.
A knock at the door makes me jump.
"Ms. Fox?" Carmella says tentatively. "Mr. Calvano asked me to let you know you have a visitor."
“A visitor?” Now I’m awake. Sitting upright, I pull the sheet to my chin and push the wild tangle of hair back from my face. “And please, call me Sienna.”
“Maeve O'Sullivan. Kate's mother,” Carmella hisses, sounding even more surprised than me. And concerned.
Modesty forgotten, I lurch from the bed and yank open the door.
“What? No.” Any lingering warmth from the night before evaporates. “Here?”
Carmella nods, grimacing as she looks me up and down. “I suggest something with a collar,” she says, focusing on my neck. “And telling Mr. Calvano to shave.”
Goddamn it.
“I’ll steam a dress for you and bring it right up.”
Cheeks on fire, I slowly back away from the door. "Thank you, thank you," I whisper as I back inside, rubbing my breast bone, as a panic attack threatens. "You can tell Mr. Calvano I'll be down in a minute."
“Fuck,” I mutter as I launch myself into the bathroom, stopping to wince at the red stubble rash all along one side of my neck. Brushing my teeth and attempting to prepare for what has to be the world’s most uncomfortable conversation, I once again question my sanity.
Rebecca was right. I should have gone into witness protection, anything that would have avoided sitting across from the mother of the dead woman whose fiancé ate me out the day after she died.
Feeling suitably ashamed of myself, I put on the elegant navy dress Carmella has laid out for me. It’s understated and respectful, and the kind of outfit you’d wear to visit a grieving mother. Maybe it will hide the fact that I’m a cold-hearted tramp.
Fiddling with my earrings, I choose not to focus on the fact that Luca spent the evening with his head between my thighs.
Or that after receiving multiple life-altering orgasms, I did not once tell him to stop.
In fact, cheeks heating as I remember, I distinctly recall gripping him by the hair and threatening him with all sorts of things if he did.
There’s probably a special place in hell for me, and Maeve O’Sullivan is here to send me there.
Staring at myself in the full-length mirror, polished and poised on the outside, and an absolute mess on the inside, I force myself to remember that I’m only here because I want to get justice for Kate, and maybe some petty revenge and financial stability for myself.
Squaring my shoulders, I head downstairs.
Luca is in the hallway, jacket on and phone in hand, looking irritatingly composed and well-rested.
“Must have been some sweet dreams you were having, sleepyhead.” He smirks. “You’re glowing.”
Shameless. Utterly shameless.
“Shh,” I hiss, knocking his hand away when he tries to tuck my hair back, mentally spiraling as I remember just how wanton and needy I was. I ignore his cocky grin and concentrate on regaining my composure before I have to face Maeve.
His hand finds the small of my back, steering me toward the sitting room door, when my steps falter. Tensing, I jump away when he whispers, mouth close to my ear, "Don’t be nervous," he murmurs. "We’ve got this."
I twist to glare at him, his calm demeanor pissing me off.
"Luca. I don’t understand. Why is she here? Why does she want to see me?” I whisper, glancing around before smoothing down my dress again.
"You look perfect." He’s entirely too amused by this.
“You’re an ass.”
I push open the door.
Maeve O'Sullivan is not what I expected. Rather than finding a grieving old woman, softened by loss, I find her hard-edged and immaculate in charcoal grey, silvering red hair pinned back without a strand out of place. She sits in Luca's armchair with the unbothered air of someone who doesn’t care whether they’re welcome or not.
Her shrewd eyes find me immediately, the same green as Kate's, but while I remember Kate’s as playful and kind, Maeve’s are sharp and absolutely merciless.
She doesn't speak. She simply watches me cross the room and sit down across from her.
Silence has weight to it
Deciding to wait and see what this is about, I keep my mouth shut, and my hands still in my lap.
Luca settles beside me, close enough that our thighs touch, and his hand rests on my knee. I inch further along the cushions, wriggling away from him, but Luca throws an arm around my shoulder and stops me from moving further.
"Miss Fox." Maeve says in greeting. "My daughter's fiancé has announced his intention to marry you, and while I understand she was not the love of his life…" She tilts her head, just slightly. "Before I can give you my blessing, tell me why I shouldn't find this obscene."
Holy shit. This woman doesn’t pull any punches.
"You should," I say, imagining she appreciates brutal honesty. "It is obscene. I've told him that."
One silver brow lifts, intrigued. "And yet, here you are."
Luca shifts, ready to jump in, but I cut him off, resting my fingers gently on his forearm.
"Yes, here I am."
She regards me for a moment then leans forward.
“And I want to know why,” Maeve says, hands clasped in her lap. “Why would a nice, normal girl want to get mixed up in this?” She holds her hands up, acting like we’re sitting in a drug den rather than a palatial mansion.
Luca glares. “We’ve known each other a long time…”
Maeve holds up a hand, keeping her attention fixed entirely on me.
“I want to get justice for Kate. If I can help find the killer, I will.”
Regarding me closely, she mulls over what I’ve said. “Perhaps. I believe that’s part of it. But there’s more.”
Shifting in my seat, Luca’s presence at my side consumes my thoughts.
“I’m scared. The press was camped at my door. I was about to be evicted. There might have been an assassin hunting for me…”
Maeve shakes her head. “If you were easily scared, you wouldn’t be sitting across from me.” She gives me a mischievous smile.
“Luca, give us a minute?” Maeve requests.
Luca stills. Being dismissed in his own living room is not what he was expecting. He stands, checking with me that I’m okay, before he leaves the room. “I’ll get us some tea.”
After his footsteps down the hall have fallen silent, Maeve returns her attention to me. “Is this about money?”
Affronted, my back goes up immediately. “No.”
When I don’t elaborate, she nods, seeming to take my word for it.
“But you want something, otherwise you’d have gone to the police, fled to the other side of the country, hid. So what is it?” she prompts. “Do you even know?”
For the first time since this rollercoaster began, I pause and really think.
“I want a do-over.” I shrug, knowing that probably sounds ridiculous. “Alfonso’s meddling stole our future and tore my world apart. This is my chance to have a fresh start.”
Maeve smirks.
“Most people who want a clean slate opt for a simpler life. This, marrying Luca, is most definitely not that.” Watching me closely, eagerly, she inches forward in her seat. “There’s more. What else?”
She’s giving me the distinct impression she knows already but just needs me to admit it.
“I want to see Alfonso’s face when I marry his son.
” Feeling conflicted, and well aware how terrible that sounds, I scramble to explain.
“I loved Luca. And this, well, who knows what’s going to happen between us.
Back then, when Alfonso ruined me, I was young and powerless.
This is my way of taking that back, showing him he didn’t win.
” I groan. “That probably makes me sound like a bitch.”
Maeve’s eyes dance as she waves away my shame. “It makes you sound like a fighter. Which is what you’ll need to be if you’re going to do this.”
It sounds like she’s here to counsel me, to make sure I’m prepared. Maeve glances past me toward the window, movement outside briefly drawing her attention.
“I’ll admit, Alfonso deserves to suffer for what he’s done to you, but I’m afraid that it’s you who’ll come out of this the worst. He’s a dangerous man, Sienna. And the wedding will only be the beginning.”
His vicious stare when he saw me on Luca’s arm last night flashes behind my eyes. It was enough to steal the air from my lungs, and the bravado I showed when confronted by Sophia vanished completely.
“Luca needs me.”
Maeve smiles. “There it is.” With a sigh, she glances at her watch before shouting out shockingly loudly in her lilting Irish accent. “Luca?”
While we wait, she pulls out her phone and types away, leaving me with my thoughts about how and why I’m doing this.
With gritted teeth, Luca reappears a few moments later.