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Her hands curled at her sides. “We should leave. I don’t want to stay here longer than necessary. If the Snake was able to slip a man past seven different security details, then this place isn’t secure.”
“Your mom?” I asked, glancing towards the stairs.
“I’ll tell her to head home. She’ll have guards with her at all times.”
“Are we heading back to the apartment?” We didn’t have guards or security stationed there. We never needed it. But now…
“No. Not until I set something up.” She was looking everywhere but at me.
“Then, where will we stay?” I ask slowly.
“My old apartment.”
Ah. That’s why she was acting weird. Sienna was uncomfortable having me in a space that had solely been hers for so long. I had to admit, I was curious about her rooms. I tried to picture what they’d look like, what personality it would have, but with Sienna, I never knew for sure. Would she have decorated it to the persona everyone else saw? Or would it be pure Sienna—the fiery heiress who could kill a man in two seconds flat?
Sienna pulled out her phone, dialing Mateo as we went back downstairs. She told him what happened in clipped, sharp tones. I couldn’t hear what he said in return, but I could tell by the sound of his voice that he wasn’t happy. Hanging up, she slipped it into the pocket of her suit jacket.
“Mateo will send a clean-up crew and do some damage control. There was a server who saw the bodies upstairs. He’ll have to be paid off.” She pushed open the doors. “He wanted to send a security detail here for me, but I told him not to bother.”
“Why?” I frowned. “If the Snake really is going after you next, you’ll need the extra precaution.”
“Did you not see what they did to the guards upstairs?”
“Those guards weren’t expecting trouble tonight.”
“And it got them killed. I’m not putting my life in the hands of men who can’t be diligent when they’re supposed to be,” she snapped. “If they hadn’t died tonight, I would have killed them myself.”
I stared at her. I didn’t know if it had been her father’s death or the vote, but she'd changed somewhere between those two events. I just didn’t know if it was for better or worse. Whatever the other Dons had said to her, it must have gotten under her skin. She wasn’t just Sienna anymore. She was the Don through and through.
Getting into the town car, Sienna stared out the window. Her jaw was clenched as tight as the fists in her lap. I resisted the urge to reach out and take her hand. The memory of her face when she’d found me in the room—the suspicion—had made me realize that if my plan was going to work, I needed to do more to gain her trust. Between the death of her father and the Snake, it felt as if I was losing traction with her, not gaining it.
And if I couldn’t show my father that I had some sort of control, he’d put her down.
There had to be a way to earn her trust faster. To show her that I was completely hers, just to get her to trust me. Being there wasn’t enough—I could see that now. She needed more. Not just a man in the shadows, but an actual partner. One who shared her secrets, her mistakes, her everything. But could I be that man?
Before Sienna, I hadn’t even dated much. The closest I’ve gotten to women was sharing a bed for a few hours before they left to go back to their own worlds while I stuck to the shadows. And then I found myself married to a woman I barely knew, one I had to look up online just to find out the type of person she was before learning that was all a carefully curated lie. Now that I’ve seen the real Sienna, I couldn’t look away.
She was everything a mafia wife should be. Strong, intelligent, critical. I’d thought my mother had been a good wife. She had fed us, clothed us, and kept a clean home. She’d supported my father from the sidelines time and time again, appearing on his arm and charming anyone who needed to be convinced to take his side, disappearing when my father had to let loose the monster to protect our family. I’d always thought that’s what mafia wives were supposed to do.
But I realized now that my mother would probably never be able to get through half the shit Sienna had experienced. And while she was good at planning parties and charming politicians, there was a reason my father kept the worst of it from her. With Sienna, I would never have to do that. She’d be able to withstand almost anything this life threw at her.
I had only been to their family’s apartment complex once, and that had been a few days ago. The building rose higher than most others around it. I assumed her father had bought the air rights above his neighbors just to keep the view. It was made entirely of glass windows—most likely bulletproof. The lobby had several security guards stationed near the front, with a key code and card scanner to get to the elevators.
We rode in silence all the way to the top floor. I didn’t know where Sienna’s rooms were when we first came. I’d just assumed they were on the same floor as her parents. When the elevator doors opened, I found myself in a small corridor with no other doors along the walls. Sienna hesitated, the key in her hand mere inches away from the lock.
My hand brushed down her arm. “Don’t be afraid to show me who you are.”
Her jaw clenched before jamming the key into the hole and turning it. The door swung open, revealing nothing but shadows. I held my breath as the lights flicked on.
It was different from what I’d tried to picture in my head, but still somehow recognizable as completely her. Everything from the bookshelves lining the wall by the door, the reading chair in the corner, to the modern couch just in front of the flat screen and covered in soft blankets. Practical but homey. Soft and edgy at the same time.
As soon as she stepped through the door, her shoulders visibly relaxed. I watched as she took in a deep breath, her eyes fluttering closed for just a few seconds. I traced every curve, every soft edge of her face, searching for any sign of the woman who had decorated this space. When her eyes opened again, there was nothing but steel.
“Bathroom is just down the hall. Bedroom right in front of you.” She moved towards the bedroom door, already shrugging out of her suit jacket.
I trailed behind her, unable to look away from the small details that littered the space. There were photos of her and Gemma along a shelf, small elephant figurines between potted plants that I couldn’t help but notice were actually made of plastic. I smiled a bit at that. She could probably kill a plant just as easily as she killed a man.
Her back was to me as she scoured her walk-in closet for something more comfortable to sleep in. Her movements were harsh, angry. Tension ran along each muscle. Lesser men might have been afraid. But I was not. Watching her now, I couldn’t help but feel the need to kiss away the worry lines, to fuck the stress out of her until she was nothing but putty beneath my hands. I could give her the distraction we both needed if she’d just let me.
