Page 117 of Ruined By Blood
"What?" she asks, catching me in the mirror.
"You're beautiful," I say simply.
Her cheeks flush pink. "You're not so bad yourself."
Downstairs, the kitchen buzzes with familiar morning sounds. Damiano sits at the table reading something on his tablet while Zoe pours coffee. Lucrezia picks at a plate of fruit.
"There they are," Damiano says, looking up as we enter.
Zoe immediately offers Sienna coffee, which she accepts with a shy "thank you."
"Ettore made waffles," Lucrezia announces, pushing the plate toward us.
As we settle in to eat, Damiano sets his tablet aside. "What's the plan for today?" His question seems casual, but I know my brother. He's already planned his entire day down to the minute.
"Taking Sienna to see Charlotte," I reply, adding more syrup to my waffles than strictly necessary. "Then I need to stop by the warehouse."
Sienna's fork pauses halfway to her mouth. She says nothing, but understanding flickers in her eyes. She knows exactly what—or rather who—waits at the warehouse. Sterling's reckoning.
She sets her fork down carefully and takes a deliberate sip of coffee instead. Her silence speaks volumes.
"I'll have Daniel drive you both," Damiano offers. "He can wait and bring you back while Enzo handles his business."
"That works," I agree, watching Sienna's reaction from the corner of my eye.
Lucrezia changes the subject, asking Zoe about the baby, and breakfast continues. Under the table, Sienna's hand finds mine, squeezing once.
"Your mother's been through a lot," I say quietly while the others talk. "She'll need time to recover completely from the drugs."
Sienna nods. "I know. I just need to see her."
"And you will." I bring her hand to my lips, kissing her knuckles. "For as long as you want."
Across the table, Damiano watches our exchange with unreadable eyes before returning to his conversation with Zoe.
Lucrezia sets down her fork, turning to Sienna. "Weshould go shopping today. Get you some clothes that actually fit instead of borrowing mine and Zoe's."
"Or," she continues, tone brightening, "we could have your things brought here."
Sienna stiffens slightly beside me. "No," she says, her voice soft but firm. "I don't want anything from that house. Just a few personal things," Sienna clarifies. "My camera. Some photographs. She takes a deliberate breath. "Everything else, I want to buy new. Start fresh."
I squeeze her hand under the table, understanding the need to cut ties with the past. Objects carry memories—some too painful to keep.
"Whatever you want, piccola," I tell her. "We'll get you anything you need."
Sienna turns to me, determination flashing in her eyes. "I want to get my driver's license."
This catches me off guard. "Your license?"
"I know how to drive," she explains. "My father had a driver teach me, in case he ever needed me to... well, it doesn't matter why. But I want to be able to go places by myself. Not always rely on others."
Her words hang in the air. Independence. After a lifetime of control, she's claiming her freedom piece by piece.
"Of course," I say without hesitation. "We'll handle the paperwork. You'll have your license by the end of the week."
Damiano raises an eyebrow at me, clearly thinking about security concerns, but I silence him with a look. We'll work out protection details later. What matters is Sienna feeling in control of her life.
"There will be a lot of things like that," I tell her. "Bank accounts, identification, legal matters. But we'll handleeach one as it comes. Whatever you need to build your life—it's yours."
