Page 74 of Scorching Sienna

His humor fades, and he becomes serious.

“I have put the word out. Discretely, of course. You will be the first to know if I hear anything about who is responsible for what happened at Lady Chatman’s. My resources are at your disposal. No one can do that to our Sienna. No one. They will pay.” The icy threat in Marcello's words reminds me who I am dealing with. Mafia boss. Don of the underworld. And now that Sienna had found her way under his skin, as she does to everyone who gets too close, he would look out for her like one of his own.

“No business. Tonight, we dance, eat, and laugh,” Lucy says, approaching me with Sienna and gently squeezing the hand I extend in greeting. I don’t do hugs. Only with my girl, who I pull to my side.

“First, we need to make our way through the vultures.” Her words elicit a questioning gaze from Sienna. Lucy hooks her arm through Marcello’s and heads toward the entrance.

While we are only a few minutes late, most guests have already arrived and gone through the paparazzi set up inside. This soiree is a big deal, and by tomorrow morning, faces from this event will besplashed in every business newspaper worldwide. And it wasn’t just the business world interested in getting the perfect picture. Fashion and gossip outlets would have their slice of this event in the form of who was best dressed, who was seen with whom, and who was heard saying what. Stretching the truth until it became something worthy of being immortalized in print.

It was the worst part about high-profile events. Unfortunately, walking through this was the main route to get to the hall where the function was being held, and it was an unspoken courtesy that usually wasn’t wavered. It was part of being in this world, of being famous.

“Wow. This is really fancy,” Sienna whispers, running her hands nervously down her thighs. I grab her hand, linking her fingers with mine. It’s fucking perfect. I thought the way the handle of my custom-designed colt fit my hand was unsurpassable. Until now. Holding my rainbow’s hand is like coming home. Crafted for each other. Her eyes go wide, dropping to where our hands are linked. She can feel it, too. The surprise she feels is mine to share. I never hold anyone's hand. Ever. Until now.

A burst of noise erupts before us, drawing our attention as Lucy and Marcello step into the spotlight. They’re used to it, pausing to pose as reporters shout questions. They handle the surface-level inquiries effortlessly, while the ones about the mob and any connection to it are ignored.

After enough time has passed, they walk off, leaving the vultures looking for their next target. Me.

Spotted, they shout my name, along with a slew of questions I don’t bother putting effort into interpreting.

“Okay. This seems intense. Is this going to be in the paper tomorrow?” Sienna asks, her big green eyes looking up at me anxiously and again at our joined hands.

“Yes.” Concerned eyes meet mine again.

“Well, you do your thing, and I’ll meet you inside.” She tries tugging free from my grasp while at the same time keeping the action small so as not to make it obvious.

“What are you doing?” My question halts her movements.

“I’m going to wait over there while you do this.” Her finger points to a spot away from the reporters and then at them before dropping to her side.

“Why? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” Her face turns red, her answer immediate.

“Definitely not.” She shakes her head for added effect, the high red ponytail swinging deliciously behind her.

“But you are never pictured with a woman in the newspapers or magazines. And you were voted Bachelor of the Year. Twice. This might provoke unwanted questions or ruin your reputation.” I smile, and she falters, her eyes immediately going to my mouth.

“You looked me up online,” I state. This thought makes me happier than it should. She was curious about me. I’m fucking elated.

“Um, well…” She blushes fiercely, her gaze not meeting mine. She lifts her hand, dabbing her cheeks with the back of it.

“I don’t care. Come,” she squeals as I spin her around, and then we head toward the spotlight.

“Mr. Deangelo, is this your new girlfriend? What’s her name?” This question from a reporter close by achieves silence as they wait for my response.

The cameras flash, and I can feel how nervous Sienna is. Her grip on my hand is tighter than before.

And yet she stands tall, a beautiful smile plastered on her face and her cheeks a dusty red to match her figure-hugging dress.

“Don’t keep them hanging, Damon. We all want to know theanswer to that.” Fuck. A voice I had hoped never to hear again.

I turn my head, my gaze clashing with the icy blues of the owner of that voice. The she-devil herself. Julia Scarva. Hanging onto none other than our host for this evening. Luciano. It seems like he was vying to see the tip of my knife, after all. It would be a scandal, but so be it. The smirk on his face tells me this little encounter is intentional. Planned. He must have paid dearly to dig up this piece of dirt connection to me. One he astutely guessed would rile me up.

I don’t show rage, though Sienna must feel it as she stiffens beside me. Without hesitating, I pull Sienna so she is flush against my body and wrap my arm around her waist possessively.

“She is more than that. The future Mrs. Deangelo.Ucciderò chiunque provi a toccarla.”I lazily allow my gaze to drift over to the couple standing nearby. Julia's face is red with rage while Luciano covers his better. Only the tick of his jaw gives away the impact of my warning. He still thinks he can have my girl. Perhaps he thought bringing that fucking psycho here would change that. I should have killed her. It was only Nicolo’s dying wish that had kept her alive until now.

“That is enough for now.” I release Sienna and grasp her hand again, pulling her close against me.

She is shocked. I can tell in the way her jaw is nearly on the ground. It must be about the future wife thing. She should accept the inevitable. I put my finger under her chin, forcing her mouth closed.

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