Chapter 23 Another Uninvited Guest
They heard a knock in the middle of their morning session, the next day. It wasn't the careful tap of the part-time staff or the soft chime from the intercom, this one was loud, impatient, and full of life.
Sienna looked up from where she knelt beside Dante’s wheelchair. “Are you expecting someone?”
He didn’t answer. His eyes stayed fixed on the movement of her hands as she guided his leg as she helped him stretch. She could almost see him thinking about ignoring the sound completely, pretending whoever it was didn’t exist.
But the knock came again, but this time it was louder this time.
A voice followed, it was masculine, deep, amused, and unfamiliar to her. “Open up, brother. Or I’ll assume you’ve gone feral.”
Sienna froze, glancing toward the door. Dante’s face hardened. He muttered something low under his breath, something she didn’t catch and wheeled himself forward.
When the door opened, the air in the room changed instantly.
Luca Varon didn’t walk into a room, he filled it. He was everything Dante wasn’t. He was taller, relaxed, handsome with a smile that didn’t look like it had to be earned. His clothes were casual, his immediate smile, and his eyes the same dark shade as Dante’s carried none of the bitterness.
“Well, well,” Luca said, grinning at his brother. “You’re still alive. That’s good news.”
Dante’s tone was dry. “What are you doing here?”
“Vacation.” Luca turned to Sienna, and his grin softened. “And who’s this? The one keeping you from turning into furniture?”
Sienna stood and wiped her palms against her trousers. “Dr. Hale,” she said politely. “Physiotherapist.”
Luca’s brows rose slightly. “Of course you are. I’ve heard about you, the miracle worker. The bravest woman in Monaco, apparently.”
Sienna blinked. “Excuse me?”
He laughed. “You work with my brother. That’s bravery in my book.”
Dante’s glare could have frozen glass. “You can leave anytime.”
Luca ignored him, stepping further inside. “You don’t offer guests coffee anymore? Champagne? Anything?” He turned back to Sienna. “He used to be charming, you know. Before the accident, people actually liked being in a room with him.”
“I still do,” she said before she could stop herself. It came out fast, and honestly. She felt Dante’s eyes flick toward her, sharp and unreadable.
Luca smiled wider, clearly pleased. “There, see? Someone likes you, brother.”
“Not for long,” Dante muttered.
The brothers stared at each other, that kind of silent exchange that said everything words couldn’t. Sienna felt like she was intruding on something private and old, like a wound never stitched right.
Luca clapped his hands suddenly,breaking the tension. “Lunch. Let’s eat. I brought wine, and you can both pretend I’m not ruining your morning.”
They ended up in the dining room. Sienna sat between the two brothers, though it felt like sitting between fire and ice.
Luca talked easily about travel, mutual friends, how he once tried yoga for five minutes and decided he preferred whiskey. Sienna found herself laughing despite the discomfort. He had a way of pulling laughter out of people like it belonged to him.
Dante, meanwhile, barely touched his food. He drank water like it was an excuse not to speak. His silence wasn’t empty, though it had weight. Each pause seemed to stretch across the table, pulling at Sienna’s focus until she felt it pressing against her ribs.
“So,” Luca said, turning to her. “Do you like it here?”
Sienna hesitated. “It’s... peaceful.”
Luca grinned. “Peaceful is another word for suffocating, isn’t it?”
“Sometimes.”
“I thought so.” He leaned back in his chair. “If he gets too unbearable, you call me. I’ll rescue you. I owe humanity that much.”
Sienna smiled, but something about it made her uneasy. She wasn’t used to men being this easy. And Dante.
Dante’s fork hit his plate with a sharp sound.
Both of them turned. His expression was blank, but his jaw was tight. “Are we finished?” he said to no one in particular.
Luca raised an eyebrow. “Did I strike a nerve?”
“You always do.”
“Still blaming me for breathing too loud?”
“Still talking too much.”
Sienna stood before the air could thicken further. “I should..”
“Stay,” Luca said. “You haven’t tried dessert.”
“I don’t..”
Dante wheeled back from the table so fast the chair screeched. “She’s working, not entertaining you.”
Luca’s smile faded just a fraction. “Relax, brother. She’s a person, not your property.”
That word hit like a slap.
Sienna froze. For a moment, she saw something in Dante’s face not anger, not exactly but something raw and cornered. He looked at her as if she’d betrayed him simply by being there.
“I’ll clean up,” she said quickly, gathering dishes just to break the silence.
Neither man stopped her.
Later that night, the house felt strange, full, and loud even when quiet. Sienna sat in her small guest room, trying to read her notes from the day, but the words blurred.
She’d laughed today. She actually laughed.
And now she couldn’t stop thinking about the look Dante gave her afterward that quiet, piercing stare that said more than any outburst.
It was ridiculous. She’d done nothing wrong. Luca was kind and friendly. The sort of person who made everything feel normal again. That was all.
But then why did she keep replaying Dante’s expression in her head that mix of disbelief and something that looked too close to hurt?
The door creaked open behind her.
She turned. Dante was in the doorway, half in shadow. He didn’t ask to come in. He never did.
“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked softly.
He didn’t answer at first. Just watched her eyes darker than usual, voice quiet when it finally came. “Did you laugh because he was funny,” he asked, “or because it wasn’t me?”
Sienna's brows shot up.”What?”
“That says it all.” He said and closed the door behind him.
Sienna didn't move, she was still in shock. The question was unexpected. Was he jealous?