“Father summoned me,” Siena replied as her expression turned troubled. The knowledge that her husband had mistresses—not just one, but several—gnawed at her, making it hard to keep her composure.
“Go to your room,” Cristiano ordered sharply, his tone cold, his eyes burning with barely restrained fury. He glared at her as if her very presence here were a crime.
“But I was—” she began, but he cut her off, his voice booming, “I said go to your room. Now, Siena.”
She flinched at the intensity in his tone. Her gaze flickered briefly to her father-in-law, who wore a smug, satisfied expression. Humiliation and hurt pricked at her chest as she hurried out of the room.
Once the door clicked shut behind Siena, Cristiano’s voice cut through the room—dark, sharp, and demanding. “What were you doin
