Twisted Loyalty

Chapter 11: Broken Pieces

Dante

The night air is cool and still as I guide Sienna out of the house, her small, trembling form pressed against my side. I keep my arm around her shoulders, steadying her as we move through the quiet estate. The bodies of the guards I took down lie scattered in the shadows behind us, but I don't look back. Nothing else matters right now except getting her away from this place.

I open the car door and help her inside, her hands shaking as she settles into the seat. Her eyes are red from crying, her skin pale, and her breathing shallow. She's fragile, broken from everything that's happened, and I handle her like she might shatter with the slightest wrong move. I pull the seatbelt across her carefully, making sure she's secure without touching her more than necessary.

Once she's in, I close the door softly and get into the driver's seat. The engine hums to life, but I don't rush. The last thing she needs is any more fear. The quiet of the car seems to echo the silence between us, only interrupted by the soft sound of the road beneath the tires as I pull away from the estate.

I glance at her every few seconds as we drive. Her eyes are unfocused, staring out the window like she's looking at something far away. I know what she's doing—replaying the night, trying to make sense of the terror she just escaped. But there's no making sense of something like that. There's only surviving it.

When she called me, her voice broken, pleading for help, something inside me shifted. It wasn't just about getting her out of danger—it was about something more. She trusted me enough to call. And for someone like Sienna, raised to trust no one, that meant something.

The city fades behind us, and I take a deep breath as I pull up to my house. The gate opens automatically, the sleek, angular lines of the mansion glowing under the soft outdoor lights. It's quiet here, a stark contrast to the chaos of the world we left behind. This place has always been my fortress, but tonight, it feels like more than that. It feels like a sanctuary for her.

I park near the entrance and step out, moving around to open her door. She hesitates for a moment before taking my hand, her fingers cold and trembling in mine. I help her out of the car, keeping my touch light, not wanting to scare her more than she already is.

"You're safe now," I murmur, my voice low and reassuring. "No one's going to hurt you. Not anymore."

She doesn't respond, but she lets me guide her inside, her steps slow and uncertain. The house is quiet, the soft lighting casting long shadows across the marble floors. I lead her to the guest bathroom, the only place I can think of where she might feel like she can catch her breath.

"I'll start a bath for you," I tell her gently, moving toward the large bathtub and turning on the water. The steam rises quickly, filling the space with warmth. I glance back at her, standing in the doorway, her arms wrapped around herself as if she's trying to hold herself together. The nightgown she's wearing is torn, the evidence of Enzo's assault still fresh.

As I approach her, I reach out, my fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face. But she flinches, her whole body tensing as she steps back.

I stop immediately, my chest tightening at the sight of her recoiling from me. The last thing I want is to make her feel more afraid.

"Take your time," I say softly, stepping back to give her space. "I'll leave some clothes for you outside the door. Whenever you're ready, you can come out."

She looks up at me, her eyes wide and glassy, and for a moment, I think she's going to say something. But then she just nods, her lips trembling as she tries to hold herself together. I take the cue and leave the room, closing the door quietly behind me.