Just before he pulls up at my studio, he breaks the silence. “I think you should apologize to her.”
I let out a short, bitter laugh. “Apologize? You think an apology fixes everything? She didn’t even bring it up.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s gone,” he says calmly. “It just means she’s waiting. For you.”
“Well, I don’t see the point.”
I do. I just don’t want to admit it.
“Just talk to her, Seb,” he adds. “It’ll help.”
The engine cuts. I’m out of the car immediately, already moving, already done with this conversation. I cross the lobby in long strides, hit the elevator button, ride it up in silence to the penthouse where my studio sits like a fortress above the city.
Marko doesn’t follow.
The moment I step inside, I loosen my tie and yank it off, toss my jacket aside, and head straight for the minibar. Wine won’t do tonight.
I need something that burns.
I pour a shot of vodka and down it. Pour another. This time I sip, slow and deliberate, letting the heat carve its way down my throat.
I’m just turning away when my phone rings.
Dimitri.
I stare at the screen for a second, then swipe to answer. “What?”
“Vivian and I just arrived,” he says. “We’ll be in New York for a while.”
I roll my eyes. “Let me guess. My engagement inspired a transatlantic flight.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Sienna is close friends with Vivian. And Vivian’s been missing home.”
I exhale slowly.
Dimitri does too. “How do you feel about everything?”
The question hits harder than it should. My thoughts tangle, crowding in. I realize—uneasily—that I’m not furious about marrying Sienna. Part of me is…anticipating it. I’d rather remain unmarried, yes. But if it has to be someone—if it has to be her—I’m not angry about it.
“I don’t see the point in dissecting my feelings,” I say flatly. “It’s not like I can change anything.”
“You can,” he counters. “You can talk to Lukin. Or Adrian. It’s up to—”
“Why does everyone keep saying I can change my mind?” I snap. “If the alliance isn’t set in stone, why make the decision for me in the first place?” I pause, anger sharpening my words. “You’re right. I should talk to Lukin and Adrian. Let them know this will be the last time they make decisions about my life in my absence and expect me to comply.”
Dimitri laughs softly. “You’re being performative. Sebastian, I know you. If you didn’t want to marry her, you wouldn’t. You’re my brother.”
“Are you done?”
He starts to argue, but I end the call.
I knock back the rest of my vodka and slam the glass onto the counter, the sound echoing through the studio like a gunshot.
I cross the room and stop in front of the easel near the wall. Without hesitation, I yank the cloth away.
The charcoal portrait stares back at me.
Sienna.
