Page 39 of Shield

“She’s the one wearing…” I scan the crowd on my screen, searching for her, and my heart stops when I see her. She’s not alone. “Fuck, she’s talking to Valentina.”

“I’ll take care of it, sir,” Eleanor assures me and hangs up.

God DAMN it.

Valentina is useful on occasion in very controlled settings, but unless she’s on a short leash, that woman fucks up everything she touches. Case in point, last night.

I zoom in on the camera as much as I can and turn up the sound. It’s hard to hear with all the background noise, but the look on Siena’s face speaks volumes. So does Valentina’s.

“Aww, the trash figured out where he actually lives,” Valentina snarls, her voice vicious through my phone speaker. “I hadn’t pegged you for a stalker, but twice in 24 hours is impressive. Especially since you looked like you died twice in your little glitter bomb dress last night.”

Jealousy drips from every syllable, her eyes firing daggers at Siena. I switch angles, focusing on Siena. Her face remains impassive.

Valentina continues. “You should know, though, you’ve come a long way for nothing. Matti is all taken care of.”

Fucking lying cunt. My pulse stutters as I watch for any hint of pain on Siena’s face, but it almost stops completely when she doesn’t seem to care. She’s not walking away, though. I can’t read her the way I usually can. Furrowing my brow, I zoom out, trying to figure out what I’m looking at.

Valentina pulls the shoulder of her dress down for some reason, revealing her bare shoulder, and winks at Siena. I don’t know what that means, but Siena seems to because a glimmer of irritation passes over her face, gone in an instant.

God, she’s so fucking beautiful. Her skin is pale, and she’s not wearing any makeup, which is my favorite way to see her. She looks tired but determined, and the way she stands tall despite being an easy eight inches shorter than Valentina in her heels, makes me want to grab her and kiss her.

“I was actually hoping to find you, Valentina.”

The fuck?

“Really. Why is that?” Valentina asks, her face twisting into a look of disgust. “Did you want some fashion advice? You do need it, but sorry, I can’t help you. You’re just too far gone.”

“I need your help with an IT project. If you can.” Siena looks nervous as Valentina’s look of irritation turns to rage, but shepresses on. “From what I understand, that’s your specialty.”

Oh, fuck no. This can’t happen. Exposing Siena to Valentina for a finite period of time on the plane was all I’m willing to do. These two starting off on a project on their own? Unacceptable. I start to pace, running my hand across my beard, still damp from the shower.

Where the fuck is Eleanor?

Valentina leans in close to Siena and hisses, “I don’t take orders from you, bitch.”

Good. Good, good. I can always count on Valentina to be a contrary cunt when asked for a favor. Maybe she is good for something.

Valentina pauses, then smirks at Siena. “Though when your man gives me orders, I stay on my knees as long as he wants.”

I roll my eyes and huff out a heavy sigh. Nope, she’s absolutely useless.

Eleanor walks up to them, interrupting their conversation by clearing her throat. “Excuse me, ladies. I’m Eleanor, Mr. Dragovari’s personal assistant. Could you please join me for a moment?” She offers Siena a soft smile.

“Fuck off, Eleanor,” sneers Valentina. “Like I told this bitch, I don’t take orders from anyone, and that includes you.”

Valentina doesn’t seem to realize that despite the fact that Eleanor is in her 60s, she will shank a bitch without thinking twice, but Eleanor takes it in stride.

“Apologies, Ms. Valentina. I wasn’t addressing you.” Eleanor smiles politely, but her eyes gleam wickedly, and she turns to Siena. “Mr. Dragovari has invited you to join him in his penthouse.”

God DAMN it. I actually didnotmake that invitation. Are these women conspiring to fucking destroy my sanity?

Eleanor doesn’t like Valentina, so this must be her way of throwing her support behind Siena. Maybe she liked what she saw in all the research I asked her to do for me on Siena when we first met. I know I did.

“No. Thank you, though,” Siena says, guarded. “I have some errands to run.”

A fresh wave of frustration rolls through me. She’s here but refuses to see me? Had she planned to, only to change her mind after running into Valentina?

I glower at Valentina’s image on the screen. Hate this bitch. And Siena—why can’t she just follow instructions for once?

---