Page 8 of Bound in Vengeance
“Sienna.” Massimo's voice is curt, and I have a feeling this tone used to work on her before. It doesn’t right now.
“At least, have the decency to look at your daughter as you sell her to the highest bidder, father.”
A muscle ticks in Massimo’s jaw, but he keeps his gaze locked on me.
I’m not looking at him, though. I’m focused entirely on Sienna. She shakes her head at her father and finally turns. I hold her gaze, daring her to look away. She doesn’t. Instead, she stands taller.
“And if you’re so desperate for a wife, at least have the decency to speak to her before making a decision!”
I let my gaze land on Camilla for a beat, before rising back to Sienna.
“Why? Of what use is her opinion to me?”
My words have the desired effect because the hazel in Sienna’s eyes turns into a literal tornado. I almost laugh, which is strange considering I can't remember the last time I felt the urge.
“You bastard!” she spits. “This is the only way you could ever get a wife. By buying one. No respectable woman with a brain would ever want a man like you.”
I have a dozen retorts ready to fuel her fire, but I’ve gone cold. The lines between this morning and last night are blurring.
Sienna’s voice. Her eyes. Her ire. The specific way her lips move. It’s all blending into the memory of the masked woman. It’s uncanny. It’s impossible. There is no way Massimo would have let his daughter attend an event like that. Everyone in our world knows how he guards them. And yet... I can’t shake the feeling.
“Of course, you’ve got nothing to say,” she continues, undeterred by my silence. “Men like you belong in hell!”
“Enough!” Massimo’s voice is low and dangerous. “You are forgetting your place.”
Sienna’s chest rises and falls, and I feel a spark of irritation when she breaks my gaze to look at her father.
“Someone had to say it?—”
“Enough!” He snaps, shutting her up again. “Someone has to learn when and how to speak, and I will gladly teach you.”
Camilla flinches again on the sofa. Daniela lowers her gaze. Sienna meets her father’s gaze squarely, but it doesn’t fool me. I see the fear she’s masking, the way her body braces for impact, and my blood ices in my veins. A red haze stains my vision, and I struggle with the urge to drive a knife straight into Massimo’s old heart.
“My apologies, Alessandro.” Massimo turns to me. “Since we only have two weeks, I suggest you and Camilla meet for lunch tomorrow. You should at least attempt to get to know one another.”
Camilla lets out another broken gasp. This time, Sienna doesn’t reach for her. Instead, she turns and stalks out of the foyer. Just as she reaches the stairs to disappear from sight, she pulls the pins in her bun out. A waterfall of long, rich brown hair tumbles down her back.
The sight is like a physical blow to my skull. I would recognize that hair anywhere.
Sienna is the masked woman from last night.
The shift in me is immediate. I want to own her. I want that hair wrapped like a silk rope around my fist as I take her frombehind. I rise to my feet, my body tense. I would plow through anyone who tries to stop me from finishing what I started last night.
“Let me talk to her,” I tell Massimo.
His brow furrows. “Why? As you said, her opinion doesn’t matter. I will deal with her myself.”
The red haze begins to cloud my vision again at the thought of Massimo dealing with Sienna. Only the thought of me getting my hands on her stops it from taking over.
“Give me a moment,” I say, not waiting for his permission.
I stride out of the room, tracking her up the stairs. She’s moving fast, her heels clicking against the stone, her hips swaying with a defiant, angry energy under the fabric of her dress.
That gorgeous curtain of brown hair bounces against her lower back with every step she takes, catching the dim light of the hallway.
Watching it swing against her curves only tightens the knot of hunger in my gut. She looks small in the sprawling, cold hallway, but her posture is stiff with pride.
I close the distance stealthily, my shadow overtaking hers on the wall just as she reaches the intersection of the gallery. Before shecan turn the corner, I step into her path, cutting off her escape route and forcing her to a sudden, jarring halt.
