Twisted Loyalty

Chapter 2: Cracks in the cage

Sienna

I can still feel Dante's breath on my neck, his mocking voice whispering in my ear.

Run back to daddy, little flame.

His words echo in my mind as I stand beside my father in the ballroom, pretending to listen to yet another conversation I couldn't care less about. My body feels numb, but my heart is pounding, every beat a reminder of what just happened on that balcony. Of him. I swallow hard, trying to steady myself, but no matter how much I try to focus on the mundane chatter around me, I can't shake the tension coiling inside me.

Dante Costa. He was too close, his presence overwhelming, and yet I couldn't pull away. The way he looked at me... it wasn't just hunger. It was like he saw right through the polished exterior—the dress, the diamonds, the poised daughter of Luca Romano. He wasn't fooled by any of it. He saw me. The real me.

And that scared me.

But as much as it terrifies me, there's no denying the pull I felt toward him. His dark eyes, the way his voice curled around me like a promise, that perfectly controlled power in every movement... there's something dangerously attractive about him, something I can't seem to shake. I hate it. I should be running from a man like him. But instead, all I can think about is how his breath felt against my skin, and the way his words made my pulse race.

I force myself to take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside me, but it's useless. I can still feel him, lingering in my thoughts, like he's left a mark on me that I'm not sure I want to erase.

"Are you even listening, Sienna?"

My father's voice cuts through my thoughts, sharp and demanding. I blink, realizing I've drifted off, my attention nowhere near where it's supposed to be.

"Yes, sir" I murmur, quickly straightening. I glance up at my father's cold, calculating eyes. He's not pleased, but when is he ever?

"Good," he says, his voice low but filled with a quiet menace. He turns his back to the group of men he's been speaking to and excuses us, pulling me aside, away from prying eyes. We walk down one of the halls until we reach his office. He opens the door and closes it behind us, flicking on the light. I breathe deeply, bracing myself for the conversation to come.

"What was that stunt earlier?" he asks, his voice sharp.

I frown, confused. "What stunt?"

"The balcony," he snaps, narrowing his eyes as he walks to his desk and pours himself another glass of bourbon. "You slipped away. Do you have any idea how many enemies are in this room tonight? Do you think I don't notice when my daughter is off, unsupervised?"

"I just needed some air," I say, keeping my voice calm. "It's just the gala, Father. I didn't think it would be a problem."

"Of course, you didn't think." His voice drips with disdain as he runs a hand through his hair. "You never think, Sienna. You act like these events don't matter, like this life doesn't matter. But it does."

My fists clench at my sides, but I force myself to remain composed. "I know it matters."

He takes a sip of his drink, eyes locked on mine. "Really? Then perhaps you noticed who's in attendance tonight."

I swallow, trying to steady my pulse. He doesn't know. He can't know.

"Dante Costa," he says, watching me closely. "I'm sure you didn't see him."

My stomach flips. The name drops between us like a grenade, but I force my expression to remain neutral. "No," I lie, shaking my head. "I didn't."

His eyes narrow, searching my face for any sign of deception. "Are you sure? I'd hate to think my daughter was caught alone with a man like him—a man who would slit our throats if given the chance."