Page 69 of Loyalty

“All right.”

The words felt like glass in her mouth.

Matteo chuckled deeply. “Oh, and we’re having a dinner next week. I expect you to be there.”

Even better …

• • •

“Dad made this seem like it was supposed to be a big dinner,” Siena said as she eyed the placements on the table. There were only six. Just enough for her parents, brothers, her, and one other person. “This isn’t a big dinner at all, Ma.”

Coraline rolled her eyes. “I think he means it’s supposed to be an important dinner—a big deal, if you will.”

“Why?”

Her mother didn’t answer, but Siena’s attention was distracted by her father and brothers roaring through the dining room. Their laughter carried through the space, and then followed them into the hall. The laughter echoed back, and muffled as the men headed into another room.

Siena turned back to her mother. “Again, why is this a big deal?”

And why the hell did she have to be there for it?

Coraline finished placing the cloth napkins on top of the plates, and gave Siena a look that scolded her. The kind of look she used to give her as a child when Siena was being too loud or whatever else.

“You know how this works—you’re not new to this life, Siena,” her mother said. “You don’t get to ask questions. You follow the rules, and nothing else. Now, go find something to do, and get out of my hair.”

Yep.

Just like a child.

Frankly, Siena didn’t mind this time. It gave her the chance to get away from her mother who just kept redoing every little thing that Siena set out on the table, anyway.

She headed for the back of the house, and slipped in the sunroom. The space was fully enclosed, but had large windows that overlooked the backyard, and a door to exit out of should someone want to go outside. It was heated in the winter, and the potted plants in all the corners and on shelves gave the space an earthy smell.

Next to her old bedroom, this had been her most favorite space in the Calabrese family home. Barely anyone used the sunroom, except her mother to water the plants twice a week. Siena was almost always guaranteed some form of privacy here.

She sunk in one of the wicker chairs, and overlooked the brownstone’s small, fenced in backyard. A recent storm had dropped a good half of a foot of snow on top of what little bit they already had. Now, covered in a heavy fresh sheet of pristine, sparkling white snow, it looked peaceful.

And cold.

Christmas was over now that it was a week into January, and all the decorations that usually warmed the place had long been taken down. The tree was gone, like everything else. Her mother had never liked to leave anything up for longer than she had to when it came to the holidays.

It was a good thing her mother hadn’t been to her apartment in well over a month. Siena still hadn’t taken her Christmas decorations down—what little bit she put out. Even the small five-foot-high fake tree was still lit up with the gold star twinkling on top in her living room.

Coraline would be aghast.

Maybe that’s why Siena kept it up.

Who knew?

Siena wasn’t sure how long she stayed hidden in the sunroom. Long enough that she wondered if maybe she had missed the dinner altogether, and someone forgot she was even there. It was unlikely, but she could still hope.

Her hope was for nothing.

“There you are,” came a voice from the doorway.

Siena found her oldest brother standing there. Kev looked her over, and then peered around the room.

“You weren’t playing with the plants or something, right?” he asked. “Dad won’t be happy if you mess your dress, or whatever.”