The house was too quiet.
Not the kind of quiet that meant peace, but the kind that settled in your bones—unsettling and wrong.
It had been two days since Luca had killed Dante.
Two days of silence.
Two days where the mansion that was once filled with movement and sharp commands felt like it was holding its breath.
Sienna wandered its halls like a ghost.
She didn’t know what she was waiting for—Luca to explode?
To speak?
To cry?
But he did none of those things.
He just disappeared.
Not physically.
He was still there—tucked away behind closed doors, in meetings, behind screens, issuing orders.
But he wasn’t there.
Not really.
And it was killing her.
Sienna stood at the doorway to his office, watching him.
He sat behind his desk, the light from the laptop casting sharp sh
