Chapter Twenty-four
699 Words
Chapter Twenty-Four
The morning light slipped lazily through the heavy curtains, painting soft streaks of gold across the sheets. Sienna stirred first, her cheek resting against the warmth of Damien’s chest. For a moment, she just listened—to the steady thump of his heartbeat, the rhythm of his breath, the way his arm instinctively tightened around her even in sleep.
She tilted her head up, studying his face in the rare vulnerability of rest. He looked different without the steel mask of control—softer, younger, almost peaceful. She smiled faintly, brushing a stray lock of hair away from his forehead.
His eyes opened suddenly, sharp and alert. Then they softened the second they focused on her. “Good morning, piccola mia,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep but threaded with possession.
Sienna blushed at the endearment. “You scared me—I thought you were still asleep.”
“I don’t sleep deeply when you’re beside me,” he said simply, lips brushing her temple. “I like to know you’re safe.”
Her heart squeezed at his words. “You make me feel safe,” she admitted softly.
Damien smirked faintly, the dangerous edge slipping back into his expression. “Good. Because you’re never leaving my bed again.”
Sienna rolled her eyes, though her smile betrayed her amusement. “Bossy.”
“Always.” He tugged her closer until their legs tangled, his lips ghosting over hers. “And don’t pretend you don’t like it.”
She gasped when his hand slid slowly down her hip, tracing the curve of her thigh. Heat flared between them instantly, but Sienna swatted his chest halfheartedly. “We barely slept…”
“Then we’ll spend the day in bed,” Damien countered easily, already dipping his head to taste the sensitive skin of her neck. “I don’t share you with the world, Sienna. Not when I can have you like this.”
Her protest melted into a soft sigh as he kissed lower, his hands roaming with a mix of reverence and hunger. For a moment, it felt like the world outside didn’t exist—just the two of them, tangled in sheets, drowning in each other.
But then, a sharp knock echoed from the bedroom door.
Sienna froze. Damien growled low, the sound dangerous and possessive. “Ignore it.”
The knock came again, firmer this time. A voice followed. “Boss, it’s urgent.”
Damien swore under his breath in Italian, pressing a final kiss to Sienna’s lips before reluctantly pulling away. He slid out of bed, his broad shoulders tense as he threw on his shirt, each movement sharp with frustration.
Sienna sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest, watching him with a mix of curiosity and unease. “What’s wrong?”
He glanced back at her, his gaze softening for only her. “Nothing you need to worry about. Stay here. Don’t open that door for anyone but me.”
The warning in his tone left no room for argument. He left, shutting the door behind him.
Sienna exhaled slowly, trying to steady her racing heart. She knew better by now—whenever Damien said “don’t worry,” it meant trouble was brewing.
Meanwhile, outside the room, Damien’s men stood tense in the hallway. One of them spoke quickly, low but urgent. “She’s back. The woman from yesterday. She insists on seeing you. Says it concerns your wife.”
Damien’s jaw clenched, his voice dropping to a lethal growl. “She dares?”
The guard hesitated. “She…she mentioned knowing something about Sienna’s past.”
For the first time, Damien’s carefully constructed control slipped. His mind raced—Sienna’s past? Something he didn’t know? The thought made his blood boil.
He straightened, adjusting his cuffs like a man preparing for war. “Bring her to the study. Now. And double the guards on Sienna’s door.”
Inside the bedroom, Sienna hugged her knees to her chest, unaware of the storm brewing downstairs—unaware that someone from her past had come to unravel everything.
And Damien? He was ready to burn the world down to protect what was his.
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