Sienna's breath hitched.
The grand room was suffocating in its silence, the air thick with the weight of Matteo's revelation. The walls—high and imposing—seemed to close in around her, trapping her inside a truth she never saw coming.
Her fingers curled into the fabric of her blouse, knuckles white from the pressure. Her father wasn't just a businessman. He was a strategist—one so skilled that he had built an empire in the shadows, orchestrating her entire life without her ever realizing it.
Her pulse pounded in her ears, drowning out everything but the single question clawing at her mind.
She forced herself to meet Matteo's gaze. "And you?" she asked, her voice sharper than she intended. "Are you just another piece in this game, or are you the one moving the pawns?"
Matteo held her stare, his expression unreadable. His silence stretched between them, heavy with meaning.
Then, finally, he exhaled. "It doesn't matter what I am, Sienna. What matters is that you understand your place in this."
Her place.
A bitter laugh almost escaped her lips. They wanted her to believe she was just another part of this world—just another deal written in blood.
Her jaw tightened. No. She wouldn't accept that.
But before she could argue, a sound cut through the room, shattering the tense silence.
Footsteps.
Steady. Measured. Unhurried.
Matteo's entire demeanor shifted. His posture straightened, his shoulders squared. It was subtle—so subtle that most people wouldn't have noticed.
But Sienna did.
She saw the flicker of steel in his gaze, the way his fingers flexed before settling at his sides. Whatever composure he had, he was reinforcing it now.
A presence filled the room before she even turned around.
The air itself seemed to tighten.
Sienna didn't need an introduction to know who it was.
Lorenzo Vittori had arrived.
He crossed the threshold with the kind of presence that needed no announcement—just a quiet, undeniable claim to the room.
He carried himself with the kind of effortless authority that didn't need to be announced. A tall man dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his salt-and-pepper hair only adding to the sharp angles of his face. He was older than Matteo, of course, but the resemblance was unmistakable. The same piercing dark eyes, the same quiet power that seemed to settle over the room like a shadow.
Except where Matteo's power simmered beneath the surface—Lorenzo's burned, raw and absolute.
For the first time since she stepped foot in this house, Sienna felt something cold slither down her spine.
Lorenzo's gaze swept over her, unreadable.
Then, finally, he spoke.
"Ah," he mused, his voice smooth, rich, unshakable. "The bride."
Sienna straightened instinctively. She refused to shrink beneath his stare.
Lorenzo's lips curved—just slightly. Amusement flickered in his dark eyes, as if he had already expected her defiance.
He studied her for a long moment before murmuring, "You look just like your mother."
The words struck her like a bolt of ice.
She swallowed. "You knew her?"
Lorenzo chuckled, the sound smooth as silk but edged with something she couldn't quite place. "Knew her?" He tilted his head slightly. "She was one of the most remarkable women I've ever met."
A shiver ran down her spine.
She knew so little about her mother. Her father had spoken of her with love, yes, but never in detail. He never shared more than a handful of memories.
And yet, here was Lorenzo Vittori, speaking as though her mother had left a lasting mark on him.
Why?
Matteo cleared his throat, his voice breaking through the tension. "You're early."
Lorenzo finally turned to face his son, his expression unreadable. "You sound surprised."
Matteo didn't answer.
Another silent exchange between them—one that felt layered with a history Sienna wasn't yet privy to.
Lorenzo shifted his attention back to her. "Your father and I built something powerful, Sienna. And now, through this union, we ensure that power stays intact."
Sienna's stomach twisted. This wasn't just a marriage. This was a calculated move.
"You make it sound like a war."
Lorenzo smirked. "That's because it is."
Her throat dried.
Matteo remained silent beside her, unreadable as ever.
Lorenzo studied her reaction, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. "I assume Matteo has already given you the... basics?"
She didn't answer.
Lorenzo chuckled softly. "Good. That means we can move on to more pressing matters."
Sienna's chest tightened.
"What matters?" she asked, forcing her voice to stay steady.
Lorenzo's smirk faded. "Your role in all of this."
The weight of his words settled over her like a slow, creeping dread.
Matteo shifted slightly beside her. "We can discuss this later."
Lorenzo didn't even glance at him. "We discuss it now."
A flicker of something passed over Matteo's face—something dangerously close to defiance.
But he didn't argue.
Sienna's breath came shallow.
Lorenzo took another step forward, the air between them growing impossibly taut.
Her heart pounded against her ribs.
She was standing at the edge of something.
Something vast. Something inevitable.
And for the first time since stepping foot into this house—
She had the sinking feeling she wasn't alone.
Not just in this room. Not just in this house.
But in this world of theirs.
And whoever was watching from the shadows—
Was waiting.