Sienna stepped out of the car, her movements slow and cautious. The cool night air wrapped around her, carrying the faint scent of rain and freshly cut grass. The mansion loomed before her—vast, cold, and unfamiliar. She took a deep breath, her heels clicking against the polished stone driveway as she took hesitant steps forward.
Her mind raced. This wasn't a home—it was a cage wrapped in luxury, gilded in wealth and power. The thought made her stomach tighten.
Matteo emerged from behind her with effortless grace, adjusting the cuff of his suit before striding toward her. "Keep up, Sienna." His voice was calm, controlled, but there was an edge to it that left no room for argument.
She didn't respond, biting back the urge to snap at him. Instead, she forced her feet to move, following him up the grand steps of the entrance. The massive double doors swung open before they could even reach them—Matteo's men were stationed everywhere, shadows blending into the night, watching.
The inside of the mansion was just as intimidating as its exterior. A towering crystal chandelier bathed the grand foyer in a warm glow, the marble floors reflecting the golden light. The space was vast, pristine, and eerily quite.
Sienna's fingers curled into her palms. "So what now?" she asked, turning to Matteo. "You lock me in some room and tell me to be a good little wife?"
Matteo exhaled sharply through his nose, something between a scoff and a quiet chuckle. "No need for dramatics." He removed his suit jacket, draping it over the back of a chair before facing her again. "We need to talk."
She crossed her arms, tilting her chin up. "Talk? You mean actually explain why my life was sold to you like a business transaction?"
Matteo's dark eyes locked onto hers, unreadable. "Because that's exactly what it was."
Sienna's breath hitched.
He took a step closer, voice steady but firm. "You weren't just sold, Sienna. You were chosen."
Her brows furrowed. "Chosen? What the hell does that mean?"
Matteo studied her for a moment, as if weighing how much to reveal. Then, he spoke, his tone quieter but no less authoritative. "This marriage wasn't my idea. It was commanded."
She stared at him. "By who?"
"My father."
The name hung in the air like a heavy weight.
Sienna had heard of him—Lorenzo Vittori, the kind of man whose mere presence could silence a room. Ruthless, powerful, a king in his own right. But why would he personally arrange this marriage? Why would he care about her?
Matteo watched the confusion flicker in her expression before continuing. "I may run things now, but I'm still the heir. My father's influence is not something to take lightly. And when he gives an order, it isn't a suggestion."
Sienna swallowed hard, forcing herself to hold his gaze. "Why me?"
Matteo smirked, but there was no amusement in his eyes. "Because you're not who you think you are."
A chill ran down her spine. "What are you talking about?"
He stepped even closer, his voice dropping. "You think your father is just some struggling middle-class businessman?" He shook his head. "He's not."
Sienna's pulse hammered against her ribs. "You're lying."
Matteo tilted his head slightly. "Am I?"
She felt the floor shift beneath her feet. This was insane. Her father—who had spent years running a seemingly modest business, who had always told her that their life was simple and straightforward—was more than what he appeared?
Matteo's next words shattered any lingering doubt.
"Alessandro Moretti is one of the best strategists our world has ever seen. A man who built connections in the shadows, a businessman who knew exactly how to stay two steps ahead of everyone else." His gaze darkened. "Your father is a dangerous man, Sienna. Not because he holds a gun, but because he doesn't have to."
Her breath caught in her throat.
No. This couldn't be true.
Sienna let out a dry, humorless laugh. "You expect me to believe that my father—my father—is some kind of criminal mastermind?"
Matteo's expression remained impassive. "Not a criminal. A strategist. A businessman with the mind of a kingmaker. And he's been playing this game for far longer than you realize."
She shook her head, taking a step back. "No. My father ran a business. He worked hard for everything we had."
Matteo arched a brow. "And yet, you never questioned how he always stayed afloat, even when others in his position crumbled?"
Sienna stilled.
She had asked, once. She had questioned how her father always managed to keep their lives stable, even in uncertain times. His response had been simple: It's all about knowing the right people, tesoro.
Her stomach twisted.
Matteo must have seen something shift in her expression, because his voice dropped even lower. "The only reason you didn't know is because he made sure you wouldn't."
Sienna stumbled back, gripping the edge of the nearest chair for support. Everything I thought I knew... was a lie?
Matteo let her process it, giving her a moment before adding, "This marriage wasn't just to settle a debt. It was a move on the chessboard. A way to unite two powerful forces before they could turn into enemies."
Sienna's breathing was uneven. "And what if I refuse to be a part of this?"
Matteo's jaw tightened. "Then you'll be crushed between them."
The words hung between them like a death sentence.
Sienna felt like the air had been stolen from her lungs.
"You weren't just handed to me, Sienna." Matteo's voice was calm, but the weight behind it was crushing. "You were a deal written in blood."
She shook her head, her hands trembling. "There has to be a way out of this."
Matteo's gaze was unreadable, but his silence was deafening.
Then, in a voice so quiet it barely reached her ears, he said, "If there was, your father would have found it before giving you to me."
The words sliced through her like a blade.
Sienna opened her mouth to protest, but then—
A door creaked open somewhere in the mansion.
She turned sharply, her heartbeat spiking.
Matteo's expression remained calm, but something in his posture shifted.
Sienna swallowed hard. "Who else is here?"
Matteo didn't answer immediately. Instead, he studied her for a moment, unreadable, before shifting his gaze beyond her—toward the dimly lit corridor stretching into the mansion.
Something in his stance made her skin prickle.
Because for the first time since stepping foot into this house—
She had the sinkingfeeling she wasn't alone.