The Queen of Fire

CH. 18

"I figure, if a girl wants to be a legend, she should go ahead and be one" - Calamity Jane

Sienna Bianchi

Waking up in a pair of massive arms and glued against a chiseled chest wearing fuck all was not the place I'd pictured myself after the mess that was last night. However sweet this huge teddy bear appeared to be, him taking care of me and giving a damn about how I felt confused me.

He may not be aware yet, but I ultimately claimed him in some way when I pushed him out of the crosshairs. What unsettled me was the way he seemed to return the favor. To be honest, I couldn't tell whether that would end up killing me or make me stronger.

You know that feeling where you don't even know what you're feeling? I was riding that bitch like a professional right now.

Finding my Italian Don an easy place to rest my eyes, his consistent calm breath unraveled my tangled thought. Had it only been as easy as the two of us in bed for the rest of our time, we'd be golden. Unfortunately, we both lived lives where doing nothing at all all day was impossible.

Interrupted from my innocent gawking, my phone buzzed in the purse I'd thrown across the room. Talk about bad timing. Leaving the Don asleep in bed, I inched out of his iron hold and replaced the empty space with a pillow. Skipping over the hardwood floors in nothing but the skin I was born in and yanking the purse with me, my phone blew up with notifications the second I opened it.

"What the fuck, Lilo" Muttering profanities to no one in particular, I reached the secluded balcony with gorgeous views of the cerrulean blue ocean. In this mindfucked state I'd found myself in, an urge to swim in that magical looking ocean washed over me. Another buzz from my already blown up phone chased that urge away.

Ms. Bianchi. It's our utmost pleasure to invite you to this year's Fortune 500 business gala. This year's festivities will take place on the fifteenth of september in Monaco, Europe. Please RSVP with your desired plus one at your earliest convenience.

Looking at the invite with wide eyes, the business nerd inside howled in excitement. Getting on this guestlist on my own had been a goal of mine since I stepped a foot at Colombia. Tommy had taken me as his date once or twice, but nothing compared to the real deal. As excited as my insides might have been, the outside was stoic.

In attending this event I would be out in the open for anyone to pick me off without having any chance to actually defend myself. Not to mention whatever date I chose to bring with me would be put in the crosshairs. Who would be stupid enough to agree to that?

"Waking up to this is certainly something I could get used to"

Talk about a willing participant and he shall appear.

Stutting towards me in all his magnificent glory, my twirling mind came to an instant stop. Wrapped up in a blanket he unconsciously procured for me, he expelled an insecurity I'd struggled with for a while.

Guilt.

The gift that kept on giving. An emotion nowhere near rational. A weight that crushed down on you whether you deserved it or not. A painful companion to death. Over the span of two months, I'd become a willing mistress of death; basking in the power it allowed me. Guilt on the other hand? She was a spiteful bitch.

"Dreaming, are we?" Feeling father content in this state, a smile spread on my face as I teased him. Guilt be damned. I would allow that snarky bitch a day or two once a blue moon, but she would have to fight for that privilege.