“Excellent. I take that as a ‘yes,’” he says with an intense baritone.
“It’s a yes. I will just look over the packet you sent today and let you know if I have any questions.”
“Perfect,” he purrs. “Oh, and Sienna? Please, don’t hesitate to call my personal cell should you have any questions. It’s on the card I attached to the packet.”
I flip back to the beginning of the packet, and sure enough, there is a card with the same sketch of the bat, but this time, the rest of the card is blank, except for what I assume to be his cell phone number, handwritten.
“Got it. I’ll be in touch soon, should I have any questions,” I say, freeing the card from the paper clip it was under.
“Excellent, I look forward to having you join Marked Inc. I’ll make sure not to overwork you too much, so that you still have time to write and publish your own works,” he says with a sense of encouragement.
“No need to worry. My own writing can wait, I’ll be focused,” I reassure him.
“Well, don’t put it off too much. I do look forward to reading your inner thoughts someday,” he says cryptically.
A blush begins to form once more on my cheeks, as I feel the heat begin to rise on my face. “I won’t,” I answer.
“I look forward to meeting you, Sen.” He ends our phone call before I can even respond or say goodbye.
I remove the phone from my ear and stare at the blank screen, trying to process the conversation we just had. Much like this entire morning, I am having a difficult time processing any of this, and then it hits me. He called me Sen.
No one other than Leo ever called me Sen. He always said it was the perfect nickname for me because he said Sen sounded like “sin,” and to him, I was as sweet as sin. It’s strange hearing anyone else call me that, let alone my soon-to-be boss, who doesn’t know me from a hole in the wall.
My stomach turns, and I feel like I’m signing a contract with a sultry-voiced Devil.
I put my phone, along with the mysteriously delivered packet, down and head back to the dining room to open the large bay window to get some much-needed fresh air in the house. As I unlatch the lock on the window, I look up and see the woman across the street staring at me again.
What is her deal?
I stand there, letting her know that I see her staring at me. There we stay, for what feels like minutes but is just seconds. It’s then that I am finally able to take in more of her features. Even with the distance in-between the two houses I notice the long streak of white she has distinctly down the middle of her hair.
We continue to have a stare-off, neither of us flinching; that is, until she lifts her phone to ear and begins to talk to whoever is on the other line. A few seconds pass with both of us staring at each other, until she walks closer to her window, so her face is almost pressed against the glass. She peers at me creepily and winks before drawing the curtain closed.
Shaking my head, I continue staring at her now curtain-covered window, unable to understand her odd behavior, coupled with letters just appearing at my front door as if out of thin air. Suspicion begins to arise, and part of me wonders if somehow this has something to do with Papa.
Revenge runs deep with criminals. Even though he and Mama were killed years ago, I know that the vendettas against made men don’t die when they do. They end when all they ever loved ends, even if they aren’t on Earth to see it. And with me being the last living Ricci, the chances of an unfinished bounty being carried out on my life is always a possibility.
I head back to my room and grab the largest suitcase I can find and begin throwing my stuff into it. I don’t know what awaits me next week in the city, but if it’s war on the horizon, I am fucking ready for it.
Chapter6
Sienna
12 YEARS AGO
The day after Halloween…
I wake up feeling unsettled. I can’t stop thinking about the cryptic text messages from Leo last night. I roll over in my bed, immediately searching for my phone. I start moving my hands, patting the bed in desperation, trying to find it to see if Leo tried contacting me again.
After frantically searching all throughout the sheets and under my pillow to see if it might have ended up there, I see it on the floor next to my bed. I pick it up, anxiously anticipating a message from Leo. I flip open my phone and … nothing. No new messages, no phone calls, absolutely nothing.
I grab a sweatshirt and throw on my UGG boots so I can head next door to check on Leo. I glance at the clock on my phone: 8:28 a.m. I know it’s early, but I need to make sure Leo is alright.
I look back to the window in my room with a view of Leo and Rose’s house, hoping I can see a light on or a sign that anyone is awake inside. I scan the windows a few times over, not seeing any lights or movement, but I decide to head over, anyway.
I slowly walk past Titi Lana’s room, trying not to wake her, because she would stop me if she knew I was going to anyone’s house before 10 a.m. on a weekend. I head downstairs to the front door, veering left toward Rose’s house. I walk through the meticulously manicured path of chrysanthemum bushes that line the walkway to her porch steps. As I approach the first step, the wood planks begin to creak beneath my feet.
The sound is intensified by the early morning stillness. I walk up the rest of the steps until I am at the front door. Shifting my weight onto my tiptoes, I try to first peer into the window on the upper portion of the front door to check if I can see Leo or Rose awake. Even on the very tips of my toes, I am unable to see into the house beyond spotting the top of the grandfather clock in the entryway.
