Chapter 2 - THE FIANCÉE CONTRACT
Sienna expected Dante Valente to offer another hiding place.
Instead, Lucia offered marriage.
Not real marriage.
Not yet.
But when the words left the older woman's mouth, Dante nearly shattered the whiskey glass in his hand.
“Absolutely not.”
Lucia remained seated beside the fireplace as if she had suggested changing dinner reservations.
Sienna stared between them.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Did she just say marriage?”
“Engagement,” Lucia corrected. “Public engagement.”
“That is still insane.”
Dante set the glass down.
“The Santoros already believe Sienna is connected to us. Denying it creates weakness. Confirming it creates protection.”
Lucia looked at her son.
“If she is publicly yours, attacking her becomes an attack on the Valente family.”
Dante’s jaw tightened.
“And it makes her an even bigger target.”
“Only if you fail to protect her.”
Silence.
That landed.
Sienna slowly stood.
“Can both of you stop discussing me like I’m a shipping container?”
Dante looked at her.
Lucia smiled.
There it was again—that strange flicker of approval.
Sienna crossed her arms.
“I have a job. I have an apartment. I have a father who needs me. I am not marrying a criminal because two psychos saw me drink tea with his mother.”
“Pretending,” Lucia said.
“No.”
“Sienna—”
“No.”
Dante’s mouth almost moved.
Almost.
She pointed at him.
“And you owe me a phone.”
That time she saw it.
The smallest twitch at the corner of his mouth.
Lucia saw it too.
Her eyes sharpened with amusement.
Dante turned toward the window.
“Your apartment is compromised. Your employer is compromised. Your father may be compromised.”
Sienna’s anger disappeared.
“My father?”
“We’ll move him.”
“You will not.”
“To a private facility.”
“I said no.”
Dante turned back.
“It has twenty-four-hour neurological care.”
Sienna hesitated.
That was unfair.
Her father’s current nursing facility was understaffed. Twice in the previous month, she had arrived to find his medication late.
“How much?”
“Nothing.”
“I don’t take charity.”
“It isn’t charity.”
“What is it?”
Dante looked directly at her.
“Payment.”
“For pretending to love you?”
“For surviving the consequences of saving my mother.”
That silenced her.
Lucia stood.
“Three months.”
Dante looked sharply at her.
Lucia continued.
“Three months as Dante’s public fiancée. You attend necessary events. You remain at the estate under protection. Your father receives private care. Your rent and debts are cleared. At the end, once the Santoro situation is resolved, you walk away with enough money to start over.”
Sienna hated how tempting it sounded.
“What happens if I say no?”
Dante answered.
“You and your father receive protection anyway.”
Lucia’s eyebrows lifted.
Dante ignored her.
“You saved my mother. I don’t charge people for doing that.”
For the first time, Sienna saw something beneath the arrogance.
A line he would not cross.
She sat again.
“One condition.”
Dante waited.
“My father never learns this is fake.”
Another pause.
“Agreed.”
“And nobody controls when I see him.”
“Within security limits.”
“No. No qualifiers.”
His eyes narrowed.
She held his gaze.
Finally—
“Agreed.”
Lucia clasped her hands.
“Wonderful.”
“This is not wonderful,” Dante said.
Lucia ignored him.
“We’ll announce the engagement tomorrow.”
Sienna nearly choked.
“Tomorrow?”
“The Santoros won’t wait.”
By midnight, Sienna had been given a bedroom larger than her apartment.
A new phone sat on the nightstand.
So did a box containing clothing she refused to touch.
She called her father.
Marco answered after seven rings.
“Hello?”
“Dad?”
A long silence.
“Sienna?”
Her eyes filled immediately.
“Yeah. It’s me.”
“Where are you?”
“Working.”
“You work too much.”
She laughed softly.
“You always say that.”
Another silence.
Then he asked the question that hurt most.
“Is your mother there?”
Sienna closed her eyes.
“No, Dad.”
“Oh.”
His voice became smaller.
“I forgot.”
“It’s okay.”
After the call, Sienna found Dante standing outside her door.
She wiped her cheeks quickly.
“How long have you been there?”
“Long enough.”
“Were you listening?”
“Yes.”
“At least you’re honest about being creepy.”
He held out a folder.
“Contract.”
She opened it.
The number on the final page made her stare.
Five hundred thousand dollars.
“Are you insane?”
“Frequently, according to my mother.”
“I’m not taking this.”
“It gives you independence when this ends.”
“I don’t need half a million dollars.”
“You’re behind on rent.”
“That doesn’t mean you get to buy me.”
His expression hardened.
“That isn’t what I’m doing.”
“Then why does this feel like a price tag?”
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Dante took the contract.
He tore the compensation page out.
Then he tore it in half.
Sienna blinked.
“What are you doing?”
“Changing the arrangement.”
He handed the folder back.
“You decide what your time is worth when this is over. Not me.”
Something inside her shifted.
Dangerously.
Before she could respond, footsteps thundered downstairs.
A bodyguard appeared.
“Boss.”
Dante turned.
The man’s face was grim.
“We have a problem.”
“What?”
“Louis Diner.”
Sienna went cold.
“What about it?”
The guard looked at her.
“Someone fired through the front windows ten minutes ago.”
Her knees nearly buckled.
Dante caught her elbow.
“Was anyone hurt?”
“No. Place was closed.”
Sienna looked at Dante.
“This happened because of me.”
“No.”
“Because of you, then.”
Dante didn’t deny it.
The bodyguard continued.
“They left something behind.”
“What?”
“A photograph.”
He handed Dante his phone.
On the screen was a picture of Sienna leaving the diner three days earlier.
A red X had been drawn across her face.
Underneath were four handwritten words.
Dante’s expression became terrifyingly still.
Sienna read them aloud.
“Give us the Moretti girl.”
Lucia entered behind them.
She saw the photograph.
Then she whispered something in Italian.
Dante looked at Sienna.
“The engagement announcement happens tonight.”
“No.”
“This isn’t negotiable anymore.”
Sienna ripped her arm from his grip.
“Everything is negotiable.”
He stared at her.
She stared back.
Then Sienna took Lucia’s emerald ring from her pocket.
She slipped it onto her finger herself.
“If I’m doing this,” she said, “I’m not hiding behind you.”
Dante’s eyes dropped to the ring.
“What are you proposing?”
Sienna swallowed her fear.
“We make them believe it.”
Lucia smiled.
But Dante did not.
Because at that exact moment, another guard entered carrying a sealed envelope.
“There’s one more thing.”
He placed it on the desk.
Inside was an old photograph.
Marco Moretti.
Thirty years younger.
Standing beside Dante’s dead father.
May you like
And written across the back:
ASK HER FATHER WHAT HE STOLE FROM THE VALENTES.
