Chapter Fourteen - Whispers in the dark ( Sienna's POV)
The Romano estate breathed secrets. They clung to the walls like smoke, lingered in every glance exchanged across long hallways, and followed me like shadows.
And now, I was one of those secrets.
I felt it in the way the men looked at me the next morning. Not openly, not directly, but enough that I caught their sideways glances, their tight smirks quickly smothered, their too-long silence when I entered a room.
Word had spread.
They didn’t know the details, thank God, but they knew enough. That the boss had taken me into his study after I’d mouthed off in front of them. That the door had closed. That I hadn’t come out until much later, lips swollen, hair tangled, the fire still burning across my skin.
And in a world where reputation was currency, whispers were more dangerous than bullets.
I first heard it while walking through the courtyard, carrying a tray Luca had asked me to bring from the kitchen. Two men leaned against the stone fountain, smoking. They didn’t notice me until I was too close to avoid overhearing.
“…Swear she’s got him wrapped around her finger,” one muttered, exhaling smoke.
“Or maybe he’s just reminding her who’s in charge,” the other replied with a grin.
Their laughter grated against my skin. My grip tightened on the tray until my knuckles ached.
Wrapped around my finger? If only they knew. Luca wasn’t the kind of man anyone controlled. If anything, I was the one being tested, molded, burned alive under his hands until I didn’t know where defiance ended and surrender began.
But I didn’t say anything. I just walked past, head high, pretending I hadn’t heard.
The rumors festered.
At breakfast, conversations would cut off the second I sat down.
In the training yard, I caught men whispering and smirking, only to straighten like schoolboys when Luca appeared.
And in the hallways, I felt their eyes on me, curious, mocking, almost respectful. Almost.
It was suffocating.
One night, I found Luca in his office, sleeves rolled up, glass of whiskey in his hand as he studied papers spread across the desk. His focus was absolute, like the rest of the world didn’t exist.
“Your men are talking,” I said, not bothering to ease into it.
He didn’t even glance up. “They always are.”
“This is different.” I crossed my arms. “They think I’m some… toy. That you dragged me in here and…”
“And what?” He looked up then, eyes sharp.
Heat rushed to my face, anger tangled with embarrassment. “That you’re… fucking me into obedience.”
For a long moment, silence pressed between us. Then Luca set down his glass and leaned back in his chair, studying me like I was a puzzle only he could solve.
“Does it bother you?” he asked finally.
“Yes,” I snapped. “It bothers me. I don’t want to be seen as your…” I cut myself off before the word plaything could slip out.
He rose, slow and deliberate, and came around the desk. “Then stop giving them something to whisper about.”
I bristled. “So I’m supposed to shut up and obey?”
His lips curved, not quite a smile. “Obedience isn’t the same as silence. You can be fire, Sienna. Just not the kind that burns me in front of my men.”
My chest tightened, torn between fury and something more dangerous, understanding. He wasn’t dismissing me. He was warning me.
But I couldn’t let him have the last word. “Maybe your men should learn you’re not untouchable. That you bleed like the rest of us.”
His eyes darkened, but instead of anger, something else flickered there, hunger, challenge.
“Careful,” he murmured, stepping closer until his breath brushed my lips. “You’re playing a game that ends with you on your knees.”
My pulse thundered, but I held my ground. “Maybe I’m not afraid of losing.”
The next day, the whispers came to a head.
I was walking through the training hall when one of the men. Marco, I thought his name was, with the scar across his cheek, decided to test the waters.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he drawled, too loud, too cocky. “Tell me, does the boss make you call him sir?”
Laughter rippled from the others, sharp and ugly.
Something inside me snapped.
I marched straight up to him, meeting his smirk with a glare sharp enough to cut. “Careful, Marco. The last man who underestimated me ended up bleeding on the floor of Murphy’s.”
The smirk faltered. The others went silent.
But before I could bask in the satisfaction, a voice cut through the tension.
“Enough.”
Luca.
He strode in, black suit immaculate, presence heavy as a blade. The room went still, the air sucked dry of oxygen.
His gaze swept over the men, cold and lethal, before landing on Marco. “Apologize.”
Marco swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean…”
“Apologize,” Luca repeated, softer, deadlier.
Marco turned to me, jaw tight. “Sorry.”
I gave him a sweet smile, even though my heart hammered in my chest. “Don’t mention it.”
Luca’s eyes lingered on me for a moment, unreadable. Then he turned on his heel. “Back to work.”
The men scrambled, tension breaking as quickly as it had risen.
But as I followed Luca out of the hall, I knew this wasn’t over.
That night, he didn’t take me to his study. He took me to the rooftop, where the city sprawled beneath us like a glittering kingdom of fire and stone.
“The whispers end tonight,” he said, leaning against the stone ledge, the wind tugging at his hair. “Tomorrow, no one questions you again.”
I frowned. “And how do you plan on making that happen?”
His eyes met mine, dark and unwavering. “By showing them exactly what you are.”
“And what’s that?” I challenged.
He stepped closer, so close I could feel the heat radiating off him. His hand cupped my face, thumb tracing along my cheekbone with surprising gentleness.
“Mine,” he said simply.
The word sent a shiver through me, equal parts terrifying and intoxicating.
I should’ve pushed back. Should’ve told him I didn’t belong to anyone. But when his mouth captured mine under the stars, fierce and claiming, all I could think was that maybe, just maybe, being his wasn’t the worst fate in the world.
And tomorrow, when the whispers started again, they wouldn’t just be about punishment.
They’d be about power.