Page 137 of Ruined By Blood
We drive in silence for several minutes, her hand in mine, the box balanced carefully on her thighs. The scent of almond and sugar fills the car, mixing with the salt of her tears.
"How did you find her?" Sienna finally asks.
"It wasn't difficult." I keep my eyes on the road, giving her space to process. "You mentioned it was near your father's house. The rest was just details."
What I don't tell her is how I spent weeks tracking down every bakery within a ten-mile radius of Sterling's mansion. How I visited each one personally, describing a woman and her daughter who might have been regulars years ago. How I refused to delegate this task to anyone else, because it mattered too much.
Sienna deserves this. Deserves every good memory salvaged from the wreckage of her childhood. Deserves the world handed to her on a silver fucking platter after everything she's endured.
Not because I love her, though I do—with every cell in my body. But because she's inherently worthy. Because this world would be infinitely better if there were more Siennas in it. People who retain their kindness after cruelty, their softness after brutality.
Instead, this world is crawling with men like Henry Sterling. Men who view others as commodities, as tools, as means to an end. Men who see their own daughters as assets to be traded, their wives as obstacles to be eliminated.
I've killed my share of these men. Will kill more beforeI'm done. And still, they multiply like cockroaches in the dark corners of humanity.
"Thank you," Sienna whispers, pulling me from my thoughts. "For giving this back to me."
I lift her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "You never lost it, piccola. It was always there, waiting for you to come back."
She looks down at the box, then back at me. Her eyes—still wet with tears—hold something new now. Something that looks like peace.
"Can we stop somewhere?" she asks. "Before we go home? Somewhere quiet, maybe by water?"
I nod, already calculating routes in my head. "There's a park about ten minutes from here. Has a small lake."
"Perfect." She settles back in her seat, still holding the box, but her grip has relaxed. "I think I'm ready to try one now."
45.EPILOGUE
Ikiss the constellation of scars on Sienna's shoulder as she sleeps peacefully beside me. The early morning light casts golden shadows across her skin, making her glow like something ethereal. Six months ago, she couldn't bear to be touched. Now she sleeps soundly in my arms, trusting me completely.
Fucking miracle.
My phone vibrates on the nightstand. Damiano. I carefully extract myself from Sienna, pressing one more kiss to her temple before slipping out of bed.
"What?" I answer, keeping my voice low as I walk to thekitchen.
"Need you at the casino. Ten o'clock." Damiano's voice is clipped, all business.
"Problem?"
"No. Just checking operations. The quarterly numbers are in."
I glance at the clock. Eight thirty. "I'll be there."
When I return to the bedroom, Sienna has rolled into the warm spot I left behind, her face buried in my pillow. I smile despite myself.
I leave a note on the nightstand letting her know where I'll be, then shower and dress for the day ahead. She likes notes more than texts.
The Venetian Rose gleams in the morning light, all polished marble and crystal under the watchful eyes of my security team. As I stride through the main floor, the staff straighten, nodding respectfully. This place will always remind me of Sienna. That first night at the bar.
I find Damiano in the high-stakes room, reviewing paperwork with Vincent, our floor manager.
"Numbers look good," Damiano says as I approach. "Up twelve percent from last quarter."
"The new blackjack tables are bringing in the right crowd," I say, scanning the reports over his shoulder.
Vincent leaves us, and Damiano gestures toward his office. Once inside, he drops the formality, loosening his tie and pouring us both a finger of whiskey. It's not even noon, but that's never stopped either of us.
