Chapter 1
Hello guys this is my first book so I'm still figuring things out. Your support and criticism will be greatly appreciated 🤗
DISCLAIMER
This is a work of fiction, and my first attempt at storytelling. Names, characters, and events are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real people or events is coincidental.
As the story evolves, edits and changes may occur - expect a few surprises if you follow along! 😊
Enjoy your reading 📚
Sienna's Pov
The sky was bruised. Heavy, charcoal clouds rolled low over the city, smelling of wet pavement and the kind of impending storm that made the silence in the house feel deafening.
I reached out, my hand searching for warmth, but found only the taut, frigid silk of the sheets. Empty.
My chest tightened, a weight settling behind my ribs that felt heavier than the storm outside. My husband had never been the romantic or loyal type but he had rules. In the five years we had navigated the jagged waters of the Fin famiglia, he had never stayed out two nights in a row. Not without a call. Not without the courtesy of informing me.
I pulled his pillow to my chest, catching the fading scent of his cologne sandalwood and something metallic, like a sharpened blade.
I closed my eyes and for a second, I was back in Tuscany three years ago. We were hiding from a hit squad in a rustic villa. He had spent the entire night sitting on the edge of the bed with a silver 9mm in his lap, watching the door, while his other hand stayed tangled in my hair.
"Rest, Sienna," he had whispered, his thumb brushing my temple. "As long as I'm breathing, the world stays outside this door."
I opened my eyes to the gray morning light. That man felt like a ghost now. The Han Romero I woke up to lately was a stranger rich, ruthless, and increasingly reckless with the way he handled my heart.
Our marriage had started as a contract, a blood-bound merger between two dynasties to solidify the Fin power. I was a daughter of the underworld, a woman who knew the weight of a long-range rifle and the steady precision required to stitch a man's artery shut in the back of a moving van. I had been his strategist, his medic, his silent shadow.
But somewhere between the bullets and the business deals, I had made the most dangerous mistake of my life. I had fallen for him.
I didn't even mind his occasional flings.......not really. As long as he kept them far from our marriage. As long as he came home to me. As long as I remained his peace.
But his peace was shifting, I could feel it.
I sat up, the dark wooden floors cold against my bare feet as I walked toward the arched windows. The mansion was beautiful, a fortress of marble and velvet, but today it felt like a gilded cage.
I dialed his number. Each ring echoed in my ear like a ticking clock.
Voicemail.
The knot in my stomach cinched tighter. I shoved the phone onto the nightstand and headed for the shower. I needed to move. I needed to breathe.
By noon, I was stepping out of a black SUV in front of The Gilded Lily. My bodyguard, Miles, held the door with a stoic nod. I had traded my tactical gear for a fitted navy blue dress that clung to my curves like a second skin. At twenty-three, I was composed, elegant, and if the whispers in the restaurant were true dangerously beautiful.
I spotted Nina and Stacey in our usual corner booth, and for the first time in forty-eight hours, the tightness in my chest eased. The amber lights of The Gilded Lily were dim, casting a cozy, golden glow over the mahogany tables, and the soft hum of jazz seemed to pulse in time with my own heartbeat.
Before I even reached the table, Stacey caught my eye and beamed, waving a frantic hand as if we hadn't seen each other in years rather than a month. Nina was already mid-laugh, leaning over her mimosa to tell Stacey something that had them both clutching their sides.
"There she is!" Nina chirped, sliding over to make room for me. The moment I reached them, I was pulled into a whirlwind of floral perfume and genuine warmth. We hugged-a messy, tight squeeze that smelled like expensive dry shampoo and shared secrets.
"You look incredible, Sienna," Stacey said, leaning back to eye my navy dress with an appreciative whistle. "That color was made for you. Honestly, it's rude to the rest of us."
"I missed you guys so much," I admitted, finally sliding into the velvet booth. I felt a genuine smile tug at my lips, a rare guest on my face lately. For a moment, the cold side of Han's bed felt like a different lifetime. Here, I wasn't an assassin, a medic, or a neglected wife. I was just Sienna.
"We ordered the truffle fries and a bottle of the good stuff," Nina said, topping off a glass for me with a wink. "No talk of work, no talk of politics. Just us."
Nina leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "So... how's married life? And how's your very handsome husband?" She wiggled her brows.
I sighed.
"Well... he's been distant. We've been trying for a baby but... the third IVF failed." My voice cracked slightly. "He doesn't look at me the same. Maybe I'm overthinking, I don't know."
Stacey touched my hand.
"Don't stress it. Men freeze when they don't know what to feel."
Nina nodded.
"He might be dealing with it in his own way."
I appreciated their comfort, even though I could see doubt in their eyes.
We spent the next twenty minutes in a beautiful, chaotic blur of catching up. Laughing until my ribs ached over Nina's disastrous date with a tech mogul and Stacey's latest office drama. The table was a fortress of glass, laughter, and light.
But then, the atmosphere shifted.
