Page 22

CHAPTER 22

Sienna

“ W here have you been?” Ettore barks into the phone. “I’ve been trying to reach you all day.”

I peel the phone away from my ear and check the time. It’s already past 10 a.m. I can’t believe I slept in this late. I must have slept through my morning alarm to get up and run.

Usually, I don’t even need an alarm. My body automatically wakes up on time for a run, but the time I spent as Alessandro’s captive messed up my internal clock.

I snort to myself.

The truth is far more bitter than that. I’m depressed, simple and short. Getting out of bed every morning has become very difficult for me, and I’m barely hanging on by a thread.

I just want to stay in bed for days on end and sleep through thoughts of him, but unfortunately, Catherina and my dad are on the Sienna watch squad. If I dare show the slightest hint of not being fine, they’ll move me back into Dad’s house.

“I’m—uh—working on something new. You know how it goes,” I lie. “Getting lost in the art for hours.”

“How amazing!” he exclaims, “I can’t wait to see what you’re working on. After all, you took a two-month creative break, so I’m sure you’ve really cooked something amazing up. It’ll be ready in time for the upcoming exhibition, yes?”

My brain scrambles, and I open my mouth to say it won’t be ready because I don’t have a single work in progress. In fact, I haven’t picked up a brush in the two months since Alessandro walked away from me and then promptly disappeared from the face of the earth.

In the beginning, I tried searching for him, sleuthing through the internet for any information about him and then even going as far as buying a plane ticket to Cagliari, where I discovered that the building had been bulldozed to the ground.

“Of course,” I hear myself reply.

“Have I told you that you’re a life safer?” he says. Then, he screams off the phone, “Veda, put Miss Marino down in place of that flighty American.”

“Bye.” I hang up hurriedly, and with an irritated groan, I toss the phone away from me, hoping it shatters into a million pieces so no one will be able to contact me again.

Climbing out of bed, I stagger to my bathroom and splash cold water on my face, then gargle mouthwash and spit.

I look like hell, and I feel like it too.

Dark circles ring my eyes, and my skin is wan and drawn.

I walk to my closet and pull out leggings and a bralette. Taking the purple lounge set off to replace it with my workout clothes makes me unreasonably sad.

Since my return, I’ve practically lived in the purple outfit I wore when I left Alessandro’s house. Sometimes, I swear I can still smell him on it, but I know it’s just my mind playing tricks on me.

I’m sluggish as I stick my earphones in and begin to trudge down the street. It’s already busy and buzzing with activity, and it feels like everyone who’s looking at me can tell I had my heart shattered by a deadly mafioso.

I keep my gaze fixed firmly in front of me as I jog down the path, sweat trickling down my back.

I try to mouth along to the rap music, but it feels as bland as everything else. I miss Alessandro, and time hasn’t succeeded in erasing him from my mind.

Memories of him are on a loop in my mind all day, and then at night, he still haunts my dreams.

I can’t even go to my favorite coffee shop anymore because he’s ruined it for me, just like he’s ruined almost everything in my life.

All of a sudden, my music cuts off abruptly, and the buzzing sound of an incoming call fills my ear. Holding up my smartwatch, I see that it’s my dad calling, so I let it go to voicemail.

I can’t deal with my father right now. Ever since I returned, he’s been extra sweet to me, hugging me often and asking me a million questions about everything. It’s a bit suffocating, but it’s also nice, I guess.

More than once, I’ve been tempted to ask Dad if Alessandro has anything to do with the change in him, but I’ve refused to say his name out loud. I’ve also refused to talk about the details of what happened during my captivity.

They’re worried now, and it’ll only get worse if I reveal how I fell into my captor’s bed with relish.

My legs begin to burn halfway into my normal route, and the sun is oppressive against my skin, so I turn right around and begin to jog home.

A tall figure unfolds itself as I approach my house, and for a second, my stomach clenches with excitement until I spot brown hair, jeans, and a leather jacket.

“Sal,” I say, trying to keep a placid expression. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to check up on you.” He flashes snowy white teeth at me and then holds up the bags in his hands. “And I brought you some food. Can I come in?”

My cheeks heat up when I remember what the inside of my apartment looks like at the moment. I look like a mess too, but I can easily sum it up to being sweaty from my run.

“Give me a minute,” I tell him. “I’m working on a painting, and I don’t want anyone seeing it till it’s done.”

“Oh, cool,” he says with a nod. “Your father says you haven’t been painting.”

I grit my teeth. “My father needs to learn to stop telling every damn person my business.”

He jerks back. “Come on, Si. I’m not just anyone.”

My smile turns brittle, and I dash into the apartment and quickly pick dirty clothes off the floor, dump them into the laundry basket, toss all the dirty dishes into the sink, and shut my bedroom door so the mess isn’t visible.

Then, I hold the front door open for him and mutter, “Come on in.”

His gaze moves around the house as he follows me to the table in the kitchen.

“I brought you different options, so you can just have anything you like,” he tells me, dropping the bags on the table. “Ivan said you’ve been cooped up in here, and your cupboards are empty.”

I make a mental note to tell my father to stop discussing me with my ex. I love my dad, but at some point, he has to accept that Sal and I are done.

“Are you okay, Si?”

“Yeah.” I busy myself by plating up the still-warm pancakes he brought for me. “Why?”

“Your father’s right. There’s something different about you. I just can’t place my finger on it.”

I scoff. “Being kidnapped by a psychopathic mafia guy as part of his plot for some sick revenge is bound to have that effect on a woman.”

“Did he?—”

I cut him a glare to stop that line of questioning, and he holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m just worried about you, and if that bastard touched you, I want to know so I can make sure he spends the rest of his pathetic life behind bars.”

Yeah, he touched me , I want to scream. He touched me, and I liked it. I liked it better than when you touched me. I begged the psychopathic mafia guy who kidnapped me to get his revenge on my father to fuck me.

“Hmm,” I murmur, pretending to be engrossed in the food.

He reaches across the table and covers my hand with his, his dark eyes meeting mine. “I care about you, Si. You know that, right? I’ve always cared about you, and I’ll always care about you.”

My stomach turns, and I push the food away. “Did my father send you to try your luck again now that I’m vulnerable?”

He recoils, and I see hurt flash across his face.

“I’m sorry, Sal,” I mutter with a sigh, burying my head in my hands. “I’m just a little bit messed up, and I’m trying to hold myself together, but I feel like I’m cracking down the middle, and my normal life just feels so strange now. It’s been two months. Shouldn’t I be normal again?”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

I leap to my feet and begin to pace. “It should, though. I spent seven weeks with him, seven weeks which felt like an eternity, but really, it is actually nothing compared to all the years of normalcy. So why does it feel like I can’t fit back in my old skin suit?”

Sal blinks at me. “Skin suit? That’s morbid.”

I wave a hand at him. “You know what I mean.”

“Maybe what you need is someone who will remind you of what your life was like,” he says softly. “Someone who will hold you up and hold you together when it feels like you’re breaking.”

“Sal, please,” I sigh, my shoulders dropping in defeat.

He unfolds himself from the table and comes around to stand before me. “Let me help you. I’ve always loved you, and I know you loved me too at one point. We can make this work again. We can make it better. I believe we’re older and wiser now, and we’ve learned from the mistakes we made in the past.”

I look at Sal now and try to feel even the barest flicker of attraction, swearing to myself that if I can find any attraction deep inside me, then maybe I can give him a chance.

He can be exactly what I need to get over Alessandro. Yes, I know it’s wrong, and I feel a little bit sick for even thinking about using Sal in such a way. He’s a good man, and he doesn’t deserve this.

I imagine Sal’s hands sliding up my thighs, and my stomach turns.

“Sal, I—I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Why not?” His eyebrows draw together. “Do you mean you don’t feel anything for me at all? You can love me again, Si, I know it.”

I bite down on my lower lip, searching for the right words to explain it to him. “Yes, maybe I loved you,” I finally tell him. “But I wasn’t in love with you.”

Losing him didn’t make me feel like I had been tossed off a helicopter and left to float in the middle of the ocean. He doesn’t make my heart race and my skin tingle, and he doesn’t set me on fire and then douse it with his kisses on my skin.

He draws back. “What does that even mean?”

I chuckle bitterly. “I didn’t know until recently either. Until I felt my soul reach out from the inside.”

His lashes lower, hiding his expression. “There’s someone else? You love this person? You’re in love with him? Does he?—”

“Sal, please,” I choke out, realizing this is not just a case of sexual attachment.

I’ve gone and fallen in love with Alessandro Mancini. A man who I’m not even sure has the ability to love me back or that I’ll ever see again.

Silly, Sienna. Stupid! So stupid.

“Are you alright, Si?” He tucks a loose curl behind my ear. “You suddenly became really pale as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

This discovery is infinitely worse than seeing a ghost.

“I’m so sorry, but I can’t be with you, Salvadore.”

His smile is small and sad, and I wish a little bit that I could be what he wants me to be for him. But I can’t.

“I understand,” he murmurs and nods, then turns to head out, his head hanging low.

My chest aches for him, and I hope he finds a woman who’ll make him realize the thing between us was lukewarm and passionless.

“Later, Sienna.” He waves from the door, and I paste on a smile and wave back.

I wait for the door to shut behind him before I walk zombie-like to my room and then curl up into a small ball on the bed.

I’m in love with Alessandro.

I let out a deranged laughter that slowly morphs into mournful sobs.