I was technically head of the family now, but the Don still had power. Still had many loyal, loving soldiers who would do anything for him. Maybe even kill the current Don.
Vincentius loved me. I knew that. But love would only go so far in this business.
“You are sure this is the way you wish to go about it?” he asked. Again, he betrayed nothing.
I sighed, taking a sip from my drink. “It’s the only way I can do it,” I admitted.
Vincentius stared at the roses. “I know,” he said quietly. “The ability for you to have a traditional marriage died many years ago.”
It was as close to an admission of our shared pain as he would allow. Neither of us spoke of Isabella. To speak of her, of our pain, invited weakness. We were not weak. I knew he had not forgotten her. How could he? How could anyone?
“Sofia and I look forward to meeting her,” he continued after clearing his throat. “I expect she will need some time to ... adjust.”
I chuckled at his euphemism. “I expect she might. So let’s schedule dinner for tomorrow night.”
His bushy brow raised. “Oh, son, you are in trouble.”
I took another drink, thinking of the way Sienna’s cheeks flushed in fury, how she’d crossed the room and punched that piece of shit without hesitation. The hatred in her eyes for everyone in the room with a dick before she walked out.
“Maybe.”
Sienna
I’d expected Cristian to force me into the master bedroom. He had made it clear that we were going to live as husband and wife. In every way possible.
But after the incident with Pete, I’d marched out of the room and down the hall until I realized that I had no idea where I was going or what to do with myself. Not that I let that stop me. I found my way to the kitchen and opened the door to the glass wine fridge which stood almost floor to ceiling. It would’ve been the stuff of dreams if I wasn’t in the middle of a fucking nightmare.
My eyes ran over the labels, impressed. Almost all of the bottles were imported. Italy. France. New Zealand. I could’ve spent over an hour going over them, marveling at how rare some of them were. As it was, I wasn’t quite in the mood to marvel. I was in the mood to drink away my problems. So I grabbed a five-hundred-dollar bottle of wine and clanged about in the kitchen until I found an corkscrew and stormed out onto the patio.
Again, it was the stuff of dreams. White, lush furniture for lounging. A dining area to the left. A pool straight ahead of me along with a gazebo and sun loungers.
I frowned at it all. At sunset, lamps flickering on to illuminate the garden as darkness crept in. The perfection of it all. My eyes caught flashes of black. Men. Walking the grounds. With very large guns in their hands. I was glad to see that. Blemishes on the otherwise flawless landscape. Something that made it impossible to forget the situation I was in.
I settled on the sofa, drinking straight from the bottle.
At some point, approximately three quarters of the way through the bottle, Felix appeared.
His form was black against the moonlight. His face impassive as he took me in. I met his stare without fear. Now that my limbs were delightfully light and my mind was soft at the edges, I decided he wouldn’t kill me. I was only in danger if I let myself be afraid of this man.
“You must have a standing appointment,” I observed, looking at his bleach blond hair. “Every three weeks, at least,” I continued. “So the roots don’t show.”
His face remained stoic.
“Cristian is in the dining room.”
I slowly clapped my hands. “Good for him. What are you, his butler now?” I scoffed. “You’re a driver, hitman and a bellboy?”
Still, Felix did not react. It annoyed me. I needed a reaction from him. Needed to rattle him. As dangerous as it was, I wanted to see behind his façade.
“For now, I’m here to tell you dinner is served in the dining room,” Felix stated, his voice annoyingly even.
I stood, the bottle dangling between my fingers. I’d kicked off my heels at some point, the patio stones warm against my bare feet as I walked toward him. The booze in my system all but silenced the warning alarms as I got closer. He didn’t move as I approached, but his eyes went to my legs. My dress had ridden up almost to my waist. I wasn’t wearing panties. Only a few millimeters hid my naked pussy.
His jaw clenched ever so slightly, but I saw it because I was close enough to smell it. Ah, there it was, a reaction.
To me.
There was power in that. He was Cristian’s right hand, from what I could gather. What better fuck you to him than to seduce this man? To come between them? To tear them apart.