Twisted Loyalty

Chapter 1: Princess in a Cage

Sienna

This dress is fucking suffocating.

The black silk clings to my skin like it's trying to choke the life out of me. I huff, tugging at the bodice, but it doesn't budge. I can barely breathe, but not from the dress. It's the 2nd of the month.

Gala night.

It's one of my father's "celebrations." He loves a good show of power, a gathering of the city's most dangerous men, all dressed in impeccably tailored suits and pretending they're something more than just criminals. "Businessmen" as my father says. My job tonight is simple: wear this dress, stay silent, and look pretty. Fathers' perfect little girl.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror. The diamonds around my neck catch the light, feeling like they're crushing my throat as well. I run a finger along the cold, glittering stones and force a breath into my lungs, but it does nothing to steady me. A necklace fit for the glittering prize no one can touch.

More like a leash.

The only comfort is knowing it won't last forever. I can slip away after a few hours, hide in the shadows, and maybe even breathe for a second. A brief moment of freedom is all I can ask for.

I adjust my earrings, making sure they lay perfectly and lay down fly away hairs. With a final glance at my reflection, I steel myself for what's to come and head downstairs. The noise of the gala hits me before I even reach the ballroom. Laughter, clinking glasses, murmured conversations about deals and violence wrapped up in fancy words. I take a deep breath as I descend the grand staircase, the heels of my shoes clicking softly against the polished marble.

Halfway down, I see him. My father.

Luca Romano stands at the base of the stairs, watching me like a hawk, cigarette in one hand and a glass of a brown liquid in the other. His sharp eyes scan me from head to toe, assessing, looking for anything out of place. His expression never changes, but there's a flicker of approval when his gaze lingers on the diamonds he gifted me on the first gala around my neck. The message is clear: I'm the perfect reflection of his power.

"Perfect," he mutters under his breath as I reach him. He's still not smiling at me, but in his world, "perfect" is all the praise I'll ever get.

I know the routine. I give him a small nod, keep my head down, and stand just a step behind him. Always in his shadow. Always the untouchable princess, nothing more than a symbol of his control over this city.

"Don't wander off," he says quietly, his voice laced with warning. "Tonight's important."

I don't reply. I don't need to. I've heard this all before—every gala, every deal, every show of force. Nothing ever changes. I catch a glimpse of him as we start walking, and his shoulders are set tighter than usual. He's more rigid than he usually is at these. There's something in the air, a tension that pulls at the edges of the room, tightening my chest in a way that has nothing to do with the dress that's squeezing my ribs.

As the evening drags on, I'm paraded through the room like a prized possession. My father introduces me to his associates, shaking hands with men I barely know but have heard of in whispers. They're powerful, ruthless, but none of them scare me. Not really.

"Ah, Sienna," a voice purrs behind me. I groaned internally I turn to see one of my father's closest allies, a man named Rinaldi. He's older, carnal, with a smile that makes my skin crawl. "Looking beautiful as ever. Your father's pride and joy, I'm sure." I give him a tight smile, the one I've perfected over the years. It doesn't reach my eyes, but he doesn't seem to notice. Too entranced with my breasts.