Chapter 14 – Sienna
“Oh, look at them,” Vivian sighs, nodding toward the corner of the restaurant, where the men are gathered, glasses in hand, laughter spilling freely. We’re at the bar, huddled together on stools, having fun.
“I like seeing them like this. Relaxed. Human. They carry so much responsibility, sometimes I think the stress is carved into their bones.”
I follow her gaze. Sebastian’s brothers look…easy. Dangerous men at rest. There’s something oddly domestic about it.
Elara smiles, folding her arms. “That’s why I don’t negotiate with Roman,” she says. “Saturdays and Sundays are sacred. No meetings, no calls unless the world is actually ending.”
Sasha raises a brow. “And he agrees to that?”
“Oh, he complains,” Elara says serenely. “Loudly. Every single time.” She grins. “But I make him tea, book a masseuse, and force him to watch shows with me while I bake. By Sunday night, he’s unbearable because he doesn’t want it to end.”
Vivian laughs. “You’ve trained him.”
“I prefer civilized him.”
Sasha gasps dramatically. “I do almost the same with Lev.”
Vivian turns, curious. “Almost?”
Sasha’s lips curve, unapologetic. “Well…ours usually ends with a happy ending.”
Vivian swats her arm. “Sasha!”
“What?” Sasha shrugs, unrepentant. “Stress relief is important.”
I laugh softly, surprising myself. The sound feels unfamiliar—looser than I’ve allowed in days.
Vivian glances at me then, her expression gentler. “What about you, Sienna?” she asks. “What’s your plan for Sebastian? You strike me as someone who likes structure.”
I lift my glass, considering. “I think,” I say slowly, “that some men don’t know what they need until someone decides for them.”
Elara smiles knowingly. Sasha hums in agreement.
Across the room, Sebastian laughs at something Roman says, his shoulders easing in a way I hadn’t noticed before.
I look away.
I’m not here to soften him. Unlike the other wives, I won’t stop until I turn him into a shell of himself.
The girls’ conversation continues, light and unaware, but my mind is elsewhere. My phone buzzes in my bag. I pull it out slowly, and my chest tightens. Viktor Mikhailov. “I’m outside.”
An hour after dinner at Dimitri’s mansion, Lev suggested we come out for drinks, a little bar to unwind. Everyone piled into cars. Viktor had been persistent about meeting, but it’s always tricky with Sebastian shadowing me like a hawk—even when we barely speak.
Meeting him here, in public, felt smart. Calculated. Safe—or at least, safer than inviting him inside the house.
But now that he’s here, I feel a pang of guilt. A family gathering…and I’ve brought this dangerous man into it. There’s no turning back. I have to go.
“Sienna, are you okay? You look white,” Sasha says, concern lacing her voice. I glance up at the circle of worried faces.
“I’m…fine. I just need to take another call.”
“Oh. Should we come with you? It’s a little dark outside,” she asks.
“No,” I say softly, with a small smile. “I’ll be fine.”
They nod and wave me off, their expressions lingering as I move toward the side door. I glance at Sebastian briefly—he’s deep in conversation with Konstantin, the new presence at our table, who’s unreadable as ever.
