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My stomach is still in knots from the dream, so I forego breakfast, instead heading into the kitchen so I can think. Short of learning to pick locks, I can't get out of here the normal way. I hesitate by the kitchen counter, assessing the window over the sink. Smashing the glass wouldn't be be a problem, but then I would have to find a way to scale down to the ground, and there's no balcony in the courtyard. If I slipped, the fall would kill me.
So what does that leave? Call for help? From whom? And how can I, without a phone? I could try to fight my way out, I suppose, wait for an opening the next time someone shows up. The problem? There's no knowing when that will be, and for all Liam's training, there's no way I could take on Lucas's goons, injured or not.
"Shit," I mutter, running my hands through my hair.
I'm still trying to figure out what to do when voices outside the front door startle me. I move to the living room, pausing a moment to stare at the front door before forcing myself to move towards it. I’m fully expecting a replay of last night—complete with the taunting and getting smashed into a wall. I'm more than a little surprised, then, when it flies open inches from my face, and I'm greeted by a full face of makeup and enough perfume to make my eyes water.
"If it isn't Theo Emmerico's little plaything," Sienna DiMarco says, her perfectly-plucked eyebrows shooting up and a smile creeping onto her lipstick-covered mouth.
Yeah, shit is right.Questions race through my mind: what the hell is she doing here? Is it possible that Tristan sent her here? Why would he? And how?
And, more to the point,how does she know who I am?
I take a step back, my mouth falling open. Sierra, to her credit—if there's credit to be had—doesn’t seem the least bit surprised to see me. If anything, she looks downright smug, and as she pushes past me into the foyer, teetering on her six-inch stilettos, she spares me little more than a glance. “I suppose I should be honored, getting to meet London's own mafia princess in the flesh," she says.
My eyes narrow as I watch her pull the door shut behind her. I've run into Sienna DiMarco a grand total of one time in my life, when she barged into Tristan's safe house in an attempt to… What? Throw herself at him in a last-ditch effort to rekindle their relationship? I never really got to the bottom of it, beyond her strange interest in meeting me, but nothing Tristan told me about their relationship painted a pretty picture. Even now, as she fingers the pearl-handled pistol she's just dug out of her designer purse, she's giving me major "psycho ex" vibes.
Sienna rounds on me, looking at me the way a shark would look at a baby seal.
Thinking fast, I scramble to remember whether she saw me that time at Tristan’s family’s house.No, I realize,she didn't—Liam pulled me into the other room before she could see me.
So then how does she know who I am?
Sensing there's something here I can leverage, I take the gamble and say, "I think you've got me mixed up with someone else.”
Sienna just chuckles. "I'm afraid not, Mrs. Emmerico—although I can understand your confusion. I don't believe we've ever been properly introduced." She extends a manicured hand to me. "Sienna DiMarco. Tristan Archer's girlfriend. I doubt he'll have told you about me, but…" She chuckles, as if at an inside joke, and then shrugs. "One never knows.”
Maybe it's the concussion making me loopy, or maybe it's the haughty self-assuredness with which she says the word, but I can't completely stifle the snort that escapes me when she calls herself Tristan's girlfriend.
Sienna frowns. "Is something funny?”
I disguise my snort as a cough and square my shoulders. "Nope, nothing. I just, ah, wasn't aware Tristan was dating again.”
She sniffs. "Well, luckily for you, that's not really your concern, is it?" She looks me up and down, her expression turning sour. "You looked better in your pictures, Vivian, I have to say.”
"Yeah, well…" I throw my arms out to my sides. "I'm kind of a hostage. Turns out kidnapping mixed with high-speed car crashes doesn't do good things for your complexion.”
"Apparently not." Sienna sits down on the couch like she owns the place, smoothing out her business skirt. She taps the spot next to her in invitation, but I stay where I am, my hackles going up. Nothing about this passes muster.
"Is there a reason you're here, then?" I ask. "I suppose rescue is too much to hope for?”
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Mrs. Emmerico," Sienna replies, "but I'm afraid that's not something I do." Her eyes narrow. "Especially not for interlopers like you.”
I grit my teeth. “Interloper…?"
"Don't play coy," Sienna tells me, her pleasant demeanor melting away in an instant. "I know exactly what you're doing, Vivian.”
I cross my arms. "Feel free to enlighten me any time.”
Her lips pull back in a sneer. "Tristan's different now," she snaps. "He's changed. I knowyouwouldn't be able to pick up on that, but it's true. We were on our way to mending things before that son of a bitch Theo dragged him into his mess. Now he's all wrapped around the axle, and I'll give you three guesses who's to blame.”
I'm clenching my fists so hard, my nails dig into my palms. "I don't know what you mean.”
"Bullshit." Sienna leans forward, staring me down. "You want me to spell it out for you?You've gotten in my boyfriend's head.You've fucked things up, and all because Lucas doesn't know how to keep you on a short leash.”
Thatpisses me off, and not just because she's clearly got no idea what she's talking about. This is the woman who closed Tristan off to the possibility of love, and after taking the slow boat to romance with him, I'll be damned if I'm going to let her pin any of this on me. "So let me guess," I retort, "you're in this now, too? Some kind of ploy to get me out of the way so you can move in on your ex?”
Sienna applauds slowly. "Figure that out on your own?" she asks, her voice cold with condescension. "You're smarter than you look, Vivian, I have to give you that.”
