The silence returns immediately.
Sienna sits at the far edge of the seat, posture perfect, gaze fixed on the window like I’m not even here. Like my presence is something she has to tolerate rather than acknowledge.
I’m pissed.
After last night—after the heat, the way she fit against me, the way she didn’t push me away—I’d expected something to shift. A crack in the ice. A truce. Something.
Instead, she’s colder than ever.
I glance at her, at the elegant line of her neck, the calm set of her face, and realize with a sharp twist of frustration that whatever happened between us in that bed meant nothing to her.
Or worse.
It meant exactly what she wanted it to mean.
And that thought sits heavy in my chest as the car carries us toward my family, toward another performance, toward the celebration of a marriage that’s already starting to feel like a battlefield.
By the time we arrive at Dimitri’s mansion, the sun has dipped low, washing the stone façade in warm amber light. The place looks calm. Welcoming. Like nothing inside it could possibly go wrong.
Vivian is the first to greet us.
“Sienna,” she says warmly, pulling her into a hug without hesitation. It’s real affection—unforced, uncalculated. Then she turns to me with a bright smile. “You two look radiant.”
Radiant.
I almost laugh.
We look like two people smiling through smoke, holding it together while everything inside us burns.
Sienna accepts the compliment with ease, returning Vivian’s hug, her posture relaxed in a way it hasn’t been all day. She even smiles, an actual one, not the polite curve she’s been giving me since morning.
Vivian loops her arm through Sienna’s and starts guiding her inside, already chatting about the dinner, the guests, how long Dimitri insisted on the seating arrangement. I follow a step behind, watching the way Sienna listens, nods, responds—present, charming, alive.
Just not with me.
The doors close behind us, sealing us into another room full of Rusnaks, expectations, and unspoken scrutiny. The air feels heavier in here, thick with observation and quiet calculation.
This is my family’s world.
And Sienna is walking into it like she was born into it.
When we reach the base of the stairway in the foyer, Vivian turns to me.
“Sebastian, the boys are upstairs,” she says lightly. “The table isn’t set yet.”
I nod, already moving. Anything to put distance between myself and Sienna’s silence.
I jog up the stairs two at a time. The hallway upstairs is quiet, thick with that familiar stillness. As I get closer to Dimitri’s study, the quiet breaks. Laughter. Low voices. The clink of glass against glass.
I stop outside the door and take a breath.
Then I push it open.
“I thought this was my wedding dinner,” I say dryly. “Why did the party start without me?”
My brothers turn as one. The room erupts.
“Sebastian!”
