Page 70

"Yes," she confirms.

"She must trust you. She guards her secrets even more fiercely than I do."

"If I'm going to be part of this, I want to be fully included."

"What do you mean—be part of it?"

She looks at me as though I'm missing something obvious. "Adrian thinks I'm spying on you. Surely, you can use that somehow. You can use me to?—"

"No," I interrupt. "It's too dangerous."

"But—"

"Sienna," I groan. "You've suffered enough already. I won't allow you to risk your life."

"Who said that's your decision to make?"

"I own you, remember."

She shakes her head. "That's romantic. That's... erotic. That doesn't mean you control every aspect of my life."

I guide her to the bed. "It's been an exhausting day. We'll discuss this another time. We both need rest. I have a long day tomorrow."

"Doing what?"

"Trying to prevent a war."

Her demeanor softens slightly. "This conversation isn't over."

"Fair enough," I grunt. "But don't forget who your Don is,piccola pittrice."

I climb into bed and draw her into my arms. She rests her cheek against my chest. Within minutes, she's breathing softly in slumber. I watch over her, knowing sleep will elude me for hours, if it comes at all.

Protecting my woman takes precedence over rest.

ChapterTwenty-Four

Sienna

"You've forgiven me too easily," I murmur while setting up my easel. It's the afternoon following the party. While I slept, Nico informed Gianna about last night's events... omitting certain intimate details, hopefully. I ached for Nico when I woke to find him gone, but I understand he has a lot to deal with.

Gianna smiles at me from the armchair in her expansive library. I had the idea for a surrealist piece using the books as backdrop, with each volume containing a fragment of her essence: a penetrating eye here, a hand adorned with jewelry there. It's experimental, and I’m shocked and honored that she's willing to commission such an unconventional piece.

"My sweet girl, you weren't born into this life. And Nico explained how terrified you were about carrying out my depraved nephew's demands."

"That's true, but I was equally terrified of disobeying, so I'm not certain how much credit that merits."

"You're inherently good, Sienna. I consider myself fortunate to have met you— and my son even more so. If you were anyone else, he would banish you for what happened. When I inquired about his intentions, he said you'd already received your punishment."

My cheeks flush as I focus intently on arranging the easel. Last night encompassed countless emotional shades: desire, resentment, anger, confusion, connection. All intermingled like pigments on a palette.

"I didn't ask what he meant by that," Gianna remarks.

"I'm not entirely sure myself."

"Is that why you've turned crimson?"

"Gianna!"