Blade

Chapter 2: The escape

Sienna

“Look at that. Your blows are barely reaching me now. Going slow on purpose, or is that all you’ve got?” I tease, dodging the next swing with ease.

"Arrogant, aren’t we, little sister? Looks like I’ll have to put you in your place," Manuelle says, eyes glittering with mischief as he stalks closer.

"Manuelle… come on, I was joking," I say, lips tight as I edge backward, my heart hammering at each step he takes toward me

I might be exceptionally skilled in combat, but Manuelle is on another level. His training started when he was just eleven, while I didn’t begin until I was sixteen.

By the time he turned sixteen, our father was already taking him on dangerous missions—missions that would crush most children under the weight of fear and anxiety. But not Manuelle. He’s fearless, agile, and brilliantly precise in everything he does.

I’ve never reached the intensity of his training, which is why he usually goes easy on me. But right now, I have a feeling that won’t be the case.

Before I can even react, his fist slams into my stomach, forcing me to stagger back. The next punch knocks me off balance entirely, and I land hard on my ass with a sharp thud.

I clutch my stomach with both hands, a low yelp escaping me as a sting radiates from my backside while I try to push myself upright.

“Oh shit! Sienna, are you okay?” Panic floods Manuelle’s face as he drops to his knees beside me, scanning for any signs of injury.

“No… I’m not. You nearly killed me. I could have ended up in the hospital,” I whine, letting my voice carry the drama. His eyes are full of concern, but there’s a flicker of amusement there too.

“Very funny,” he murmurs, chuckling as he slips an arm around my waist to help me stand.

"Principessa." We both snap our heads to Marcus, who stands by the door with a concerned expression on his face. "Are you okay?"

“Yes, I’m fine, Marcus. Just a few combat lessons gone sideways,” I say with a sheepish grin, earning a snort from Manuelle. I shoot him a sharp glare and jab him in the ribs. He grunts, letting go of my waist to massage the sore spot.

Marcus opens his mouth like he’s about to comment, then stops, his expression hardening. “Your father wants to speak with you,” he says, voice suddenly serious.

My eyebrows knits together in confusion as to why my father wants to speak with me but I guess Marcus must have informed him that I came earlier to have an urgent discussion with him.

"I'll be there in a minute." I mumble.

****

I knock on the door to my father's office and take a deep breath to mentally prepare myself for the discussion I'm going to have with him.

I just need Blade to stop sending me marriage proposals. Since my dad’s a Mafia Don, he could arrange a meeting, make it clear I’m not interested. There’s no way in hell I’m marrying the devil. If it goes as planned, Blade will move on, hunting some other poor soul he can torture into marriage.

Still… I can’t help but wonder what the man looks like.

On hearing my father's deep voice mutter a slight 'Come in', I twist the door knob and walk into his office.