Chapter 3: Six Months Later - Sienna's POV
1247 Words
Sienna had forgotten what it felt like to sleep through the night.
Not the restless half-sleep she'd survived on for three years, one ear always listening for Alessandro's key in the lock. Real sleep. The kind where you woke up confused about what day it was, sheets tangled around your legs, sunlight streaming through windows you'd chosen yourself.
She stretched in her bed—her actual bed in her actual apartment that she paid for with her actual paycheck—and checked her phone. 7:15 AM.
The Sterling & Cross holiday party tonight. Open bar, fancy appetizers, and according to Jade, "the perfect opportunity to flirt with that cute guy from the design team."
Sienna wasn't ready for the design guy. But she was ready to show up at a company party without hiding in the bathroom every twenty minutes to text someone that she'd be home soon, that she hadn't forgotten about him, that she was still his.
Her phone buzzed. Dr. Chen, her therapist.
"Remember to journal about the party tonight. Note the moments you feel genuinely happy. You're allowed to feel good, Sienna."
Six months ago, Jade had physically dragged her to therapy. "You just left a three-year situationship with a man who kept you like a Victorian mistress," Jade had said. "You need professional help processing that."
Therapy had been uncomfortable. Hard. All those sessions picking apart why she'd stayed so long, why she'd accepted so little.
"You learned early that love was conditional," Dr. Chen had said. "Your mother worked three jobs. You rarely saw her. You learned to be accommodating. Undemanding. Easy. Because easy children got scraps of affection, and scraps were better than nothing."
But therapy had also made her angry. The useful kind of anger that pushed her to apply for the job at Sterling & Cross. That made her negotiate her salary. That helped her recognize when she was shrinking herself to make someone else comfortable.
Six months, and she'd cut her hair into a sharp bob. Started wearing red lipstick. Bought clothes that fit the body she actually had instead of the one Alessandro had preferred.
She looked powerful. Confident. Like someone who knew her own worth.
"Fake it till you make it," she told her reflection.
Except lately, she wasn't sure she was faking anymore.
Sterling & Cross had promoted her to Senior Marketing Strategist last week.
"You've exceeded every expectation," her boss Miranda had said. "The Hartwell campaign alone brought in three new clients. Whatever you're doing, keep doing it."
What she was doing was working. Just working. Throwing herself into projects with the kind of focus she used to reserve for analyzing Alessandro's moods. Turned out, that same energy applied to marketing strategy made her very, very good at her job.
The holiday party was already in full swing when she arrived. Trendy rooftop space in Chelsea, fairy lights everywhere, Manhattan glittering below like a promise. She'd worn the red dress—Jade had insisted.
"You look like you're about to burn down a building," Jade had said approvingly. "In a hot way."
Tyler, the design guy, made his move within the first hour. Sweet, funny, completely unthreatening. They talked about work, about pizza, about normal things.
"So," Tyler said, "would you want to grab dinner sometime? Actual dinner, not just company party appetizers."
Sienna opened her mouth to answer when someone called her name.
"Sienna Morales?"
She turned.
The man standing behind her was tall, sandy brown hair, green eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He wore his expensive suit casually, tie slightly loosened. She recognized him immediately.
Dante Moretti.
"I thought that was you," he said, smile warm and genuine. "From the Hartwell gala, right? We talked about the psychological impact of brand storytelling on consumer behavior. You completely changed how I think about marketing narratives."
"I remember." How could she forget? He'd been the first man in three years who'd asked her opinion and actually listened. "You were planning that tech innovation center in Brooklyn."
"Still am. Nightmare of permits and community board meetings." He glanced at Tyler, realized he'd interrupted. "Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. I just saw you and wanted to say hello. And—" He pulled out a business card. "If you're ever interested in freelance consulting work, I'd love to talk. Your insights that night were exactly what my team needs."
Sienna took the card. Moretti Industries. CEO.
Her brain caught up with her memory.
Alessandro had mentioned Moretti Industries. Multiple times. Always with contempt. "Moretti thinks he can disrupt the real estate market with his tech toys. Arrogant bastard."
This was Alessandro's rival. The man he'd tried to sabotage five years ago.
"I'd love to," she heard herself say. "Consulting work, I mean."
"Perfect." Dante's smile widened. "I'll have my assistant reach out next week."
He walked away, was immediately absorbed into conversation with Miranda and some executives.
"Who was that?" Tyler asked, deflated.
"Dante Moretti," Sienna said, staring at the business card. "A potential client."
Sweet Tyler with his easy smile and uncomplicated interest. The kind of guy she should want.
"Yes," she said, dragging her attention back. "Dinner sounds great."
They exchanged numbers. Made plans. He went to get drinks.
Sienna looked up and found Dante Moretti watching her from across the room.
Their eyes met.
He raised his glass in a small salute, smile playing at his mouth.
Something in Sienna's chest did a complicated flip that felt dangerously like excitement.
She looked away first, tucked his business card into her purse, and told herself she was imagining the electricity between them. Told herself this had nothing to do with the fact that he was Alessandro's rival and some petty part of her liked that symmetry.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
"This is Dante. Sorry, I got your number from Miranda—hope that's not too forward. Coffee Monday morning? I promise it's purely professional. Unless you want it to be unprofessional. That was a joke. I'm better at business than flirting. Clearly."
Sienna's thumb hovered over the keyboard.
This was a bad idea. Dating a client was unprofessional. Dating Alessandro's business rival was messy. Dating anyone right now was probably premature.
She should say no.
She typed: "Coffee Monday sounds perfect. Send me the address."
His response came immediately: "You just made my night. Fair warning: I make terrible jokes when I'm nervous and I'm very nervous about impressing you. See you Monday."
Sienna smiled down at her phone.
Across the room, Tyler was returning with their drinks.
And somewhere in Manhattan, in a penthouse sixty-seven floors up, Alessandro was probably having his own evening—maybe with Vanessa, maybe alone, probably not thinking about the woman he'd been so certain would come crawling back.
For the first time in six months, Sienna didn't care.
She dropped her phone in her purse, accepted the drink from Tyler, and let herself enjoy the party. Let herself feel the warmth of professional success and the possibility of new beginnings and the strange, terrifying freedom of not belonging to anyone but herself.
Dr. Chen had been right.
She was allowed to feel good.
And tonight, standing on a rooftop in Chelsea with the whole city spread out below her like it was hers for the taking, Sienna Morales felt better than good.
She felt like maybe, just maybe, she was going to be okay.
Better than okay.
She was going to be phenomenal.
- Writer
