Sienna had never imagined quiet could feel so overwhelming.
The Luciano property was huge, fancy, and way too perfect for someone who had been sleeping in a shaky wooden house just days before.
The shiny floor showed her walking, her shadow behind her like something bad she wanted to forget.
Two security men stayed back. Always two.
Always the same space, near enough to help, but far enough that she couldn't say they were too close.
She wasn't sure if she felt safe or stuck.
On her first morning, Matteo had personally taken her to see the set of rooms she would be staying in.
"Just for now," he had told her. "Only until we know you're okay."
Safe.
She didn't even know what that word meant anymore.
The room was bigger than her whole house.
It had big windows from top to bottom, soft yellow lights, and a bed with sheets so soft she felt bad touching them.
She stood by it for a long time, arms crossed, unsure if she should sit or just look at it.
She quietly said to herself, "Don't get used to this. Don't forget who you are."
But the quiet felt too strong on her chest. It seemed safer than anywhere she'd ever been, and that alone scared her.
She first saw Dante in the hallway.
He didn't talk. He didn't slow down. He just… showed up, quiet and tall, like he came from the shadows himself.
Sienna stopped moving, holding her breath. His eyes looked up at her, slowly and on purpose, and the feeling between them got strong right away.
He looked better now, still with bandages under his shirt, maybe, but standing straight, fully dangerous.
"You shouldn't be walking around alone yet," she said quietly before she could stop herself.
His eyes moved a little, not quite surprised, not quite amused. "I'm okay."
His voice was quiet, rough. Like he didn't use it much.
"You weren't okay three days ago," she told him, then felt bad. She didn't mean for her voice to sound so… friendly.
Dante didn't say anything. But his jaw tightened just a bit, as if the memory bothered him, or made him feel small.
He moved to the side, letting her go by, but she could feel his eyes stay on her back for three full seconds before he left.
Three seconds felt like forever.
Lorenzo was the opposite.
While Dante's quiet was heavy and hard to read, Lorenzo's presence showed sharp interest.
Sienna saw him watching her more than once, never in a mean way, just… with a lot of focus.
The first time he came up to her, she was in the library, pretending to read a book she couldn't understand at all.
"You're not Italian," he said casually, leaning against the doorway.
She got tense. "Is that your way of saying I don't fit in here?"
"It's my way of saying you're interesting." His eyes got softer, but not by much.
"Most people shake when they're brought here. You look like you're figuring out every way to leave."
She closed the book. "It's a habit."
He came closer, slow and on purpose, but not scary. "Matteo said you saved Dante's life."
Her insides twisted up. "I… was helpful. I'm not sure if it counts as rescuing."
"It does." What Lorenzo thought was impossible to know.
"And because of it, you're being kept safe right now."
His voice should have made her feel better, but his words just made her realize how much danger she was in.
Being kept safe meant she was being hunted.
Lorenzo looked at her for a little longer before saying, "If you want anything, just ask. We won't treat you like you're locked up."
"Are you saying that I'm not locked up?" she asked quietly, but her voice shook a bit.
A little smile appeared on his face. "Not yet."
He left before she could figure out if he was joking or not.
Dinner was a really odd event.
A big table. Too many seats. Too many forks and knives.
Three brothers, each with their own problems.
Sienna sat near the end, hiding her shaking hands under the table.
Matteo usually sat closest to her, as if he knew she was uneasy and wanted to help her feel better.
"So, Alexis," Matteo said, using the name she hoped they would never question.
"Tell us about what you did back in the town near the border."
She looked up carefully. "I just served food."
"Just?" Matteo smiled. "It takes skill to work with people. Especially people you don't know."
"It also doesn't pay very well," she said flatly.
Matteo chuckled. "That's true."
Lorenzo leaned forward. "You lived by yourself?"
"Yes."
"Weren't you scared?"
Her throat felt tight. She had been scared all the time, but she wasn't going to admit that. "I made it through."
Dante, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke. "She's not weak."
Sienna quickly looked at him.
He wasn't looking at her, and it sounded like he was saying a simple fact, not giving her a nice comment.
But for some reason, her chest tightened up anyway.
The brothers looked at each other quickly, like they were talking without words.
Sienna wondered what they were thinking, what they suspected, and what they wanted from her.
She started cutting her food to take her mind off things, but Matteo used that moment to change the subject.
"You'll stay here until things calm down with our enemies. Especially the Micassos." His voice got a little darker. "By saving Dante, you've made yourself a target."
She swallowed hard.
"I didn't want any of this to happen."
"We know," Matteo said gently. "You didn't ask for this. It was just meant to be."
Meant to be.
She hated that phrase.
Dinner kept going, but Sienna didn't feel like eating anymore. Every word felt heavy.
Every look from Dante felt too intense. Lorenzo's questions, Matteo's kindness, it all felt like it was pushing against the fragile walls she was trying so hard to rebuild.
By the time she said she had to leave, her hands were shaking again.
Nights were the hardest times.
All the fancy stuff around her didn't get rid of the thoughts in her head.
She stayed awake staring at the ceiling, listening to the quiet sounds of voices far away, footsteps, and guards changing shifts.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Dante bleeding on the floor of her place.
His skin was pale, his breathing was getting weaker, and her hands were shaking as she whispered, "Stay with me… please, just stay awake…"
Many times, she'd wake up scared and sweating, her heart beating fast as if he still needed her help and was hurt, like when she looked after him.
But that wasn't true.
Now he was here, not hurt, but not close, and hard to know what he would do.
And guarded by people who could make her disappear just by telling them to.
The safe place they gave her seemed real, but feeling safe like this meant giving something up, and because being treated well by men who were used to violence always came with a price.
Because she could feel something changing inside her, becoming softer, even though she kept telling herself no
t to.
She tried to get more comfortable in the bed, quietly saying to the dark,
"Don't start to care. Don't think of this as your home."
But the house didn't pay attention.