Silence fills the cab as I stare at the stitching running along the seats.
For a minute or so, my thoughts jump between the Irish, work, and Sienna. The corner of my mouth lifts as I replay everything from the moment I told Sienna I was interested in her.
At first, she was shocked and hesitated. It took six days for her to decide whether to give me a chance or not. Luckily, she said yes.
Even though we grew up in the same world and our families are close, it felt like I had to get to know her all over again.
I’ve learned Sienna is even more introverted than I initially thought. Attending functions and being in social settings drains her to the point where she gets headaches.
After the first couple of dates, I caught on, and instead of taking her on extravagant dates, I scaled down. She loves the simple things like cooking a meal together or snuggling beneath the stars.
She’s also a people pleaser. Even though I’ve seen her drinking wine and champagne on many occasions, she doesn’t like alcohol at all. She also hates lamb, salami, and olives. Still, until I stopped her, she never declined any of the foods and drinks.
She never says no when someone asks her to do something, and at parties she spends most of her time in the kitchen, cleaning up after everyone. It’s going to take me more than three months to get her to stop thinking about other people all the time and to start putting herself first.
I have to be careful, though. I don’t want to change her.
Unlike her siblings, Sienna is very sensitive. It’s one of the things I love most about her. I just want her to live more for herself and less for others.
Sienna is one of the few people who bring out my softer side, which only makes an appearance with my mother and sisters. The moment I felt overprotective and possessive of her, I knew she was the one.
When Nico waits for the iron gates to open before steering the SUV up the driveway, my eyes sweep over the Vitales’ mansion. After he brings the vehicle to a stop, I shove the door open and climb out.
I glance at the guards standing near the cottage where the Vitales torture their enemies, and they all look at me with respect.
It’s difficult not let the power go to my head, and something I constantly have to work on.
As I step into the house via the sliding doors, I find Uncle Milo and Lorenzo in the living room.
Climbing to his feet, Lorenzo says, “Everyone’s changing for the funerals.”
Not replying, I head to Sienna’s bedroom. Just as I reach it, the door opens, and the next instant, Sienna plows into my chest.
I quickly grab her shoulders, and when she regains her balance, my hands move to frame her face. “Are you okay?”
Her big green eyes widen at the sight of me. When I don’t see the affection I’ve grown accustomed to, but instead fear, my worry increases tenfold. I haven’t seen her since she visited me in the hospital the day after the attack, and even then, it felt like she was trying to keep me at a distance.
What the fuck is going on?
“Yes,” she answers my question, her voice sounding fragile while she pulls out of my hold instead of giving me a hug like she always does.
I step forward, forcing Sienna backward with my body, and once we’re in her bedroom, I shut the door so we’ll have privacy.
My gaze touches on the two bags by the bed before locking on her face.
“You’ve avoided me for two days,” I state the obvious, my tone brimming with tension. When she doesn’t deny it, my heart clenches in my chest, and I ask, “What’s going on, Sienna?”
Her tongue darts out to swipe over her lips. “I’m…I’m going away for a little while.”
She begins to fidget, and turning her back to me, her fingers twist together. She always does that when she’s anxious.
I move around her and take hold of her hands, squeezing them in mine. I’ve learned it usually helps her feel better. When she steps closer and rests her forehead against my chest, I quickly wrap my arms around her.
My body shudders from getting to hold her, and I take a deep breath of her sweet scent. She smells like caramel.
I’m not a sugar person at all. She’s the only sweet thing I like.
Even though I’m filled with tension, I do my best to keep my voice gentle as I whisper, “Talk to me.”
