Chapter 3

Sienna POV

Tonight I went to Aurelius.

Aurelius was a private club with a reputation, sitting on the top floor of the tallest building in the city. According to the schedule Evelyn Moretti had given me, Luca would be there tonight. Fox had gotten me in as a replacement for a waitress who had called in sick.

I changed into the club uniform in the staff bathroom and straightened my collar in front of the mirror. The skirt ended barely past the top of my thigh and the neckline cut low. I tugged at the hem, trying to make it decent, and the girl in the mirror still looked indecent as hell.

I studied my face. The days in holding had worn me thin, but that wasn't what I cared about.

I was about to see Luca again.

Five years ago, I had thought that if I went far enough away, this man would eventually disappear from my life. Fate seemed to enjoy its little jokes. What would he do when he recognized me?

I drew a breath and forced myself calm. I had tonight's identity, the exits, the camera positions and the withdrawal route memorized. If anything went wrong, I would leave at once.

I pushed open the door to the private room where Luca was supposed to be tonight.

Men from the inner circle sprawled across the leather sofas. In the corner a girl knelt between one man's legs, working at his belt with her teeth, while the others laughed under their breath. Every pair of eyes in the room landed on me the moment I walked in.

"Whoa--" Somebody whistled. "Now that's a looker. New?"

I kept my gaze down and tried to be nothing more than a girl carrying drinks. My eyes swept the room once, fast.

No Luca.

My heart sank. Then I noticed the glass sitting at the center of the table. Amber liquid, a thin film of condensation beading on the sides. Thirty-year Macallan, never water, exactly two cubes of ice.

It was Luca's seat. He hadn't arrived yet.

I had barely exhaled when the man on the sofa to my left got to his feet.

"Hey. You."

I knew him. Alex. One of Luca's closest friends, raised alongside him under the old Hawthorne, one of the few who had known what I was to Luca--the one who understood better than anyone else what I had done. Five years ago I had turned his best friend inside out and vanished with a fortune.

He shoved the woman beside him aside, then stood and came straight at me, blocking my way.

"It's you."

I lifted my head. "Sir? Can I get you something?"

He gave a short laugh. "Miss Green. Five years, and you've fallen this far."

"Sir, you've mistaken me for someone else. I'm not called Green. My name is Sienna Hart."

"Mistaken?" He looked delighted. "I'd know that face in a goddamn ash pile. What happened--your sugar daddy abroad throw you out and you crawled home under a new name?"

Every head in the room turned toward us.

There it was. He knew exactly who I was. Alex was vindictive, and he was fiercely protective of his own.

He picked up the nearly full glass of red wine in front of him and turned his wrist over. Red liquid hit the marble floor and splashed across my calves and my shoes.

"Oops. Slipped." He had no apology in him at all. He stretched one leg out onto the table. "What now? My shoe's filthy, Miss Green. Be a dear."

Low laughter around the room.

I breathed in. "Yes, sir. I'll clean it up."

I turned to fetch something to clean with.

"Wait." He stopped me. "Your hands won't do it properly." He leaned forward, amused. "You. On your knees. Wipe it up with a rag."

He straightened and looked around the room. "Do a good job and I'll double your tip tonight. Deal?"

The room went quiet for a beat, then erupted in louder, cruder laughter.

I stood where I was with my eyes down and my face empty.

Alex raised an eyebrow. "What's that? You won't?"

I knew exactly what this was. Alex was punishing me on Luca's behalf. I had been forced to kneel before. It meant nothing to me. I had swallowed worse indignities than this more than once. I was here tonight with a job. There was no reason to be proud at the wrong moment.

My knees had just begun to bend when the door behind me moved.

A man's voice came from the doorway. "What's all this noise?"

Five years, and I knew that voice instantly. I straightened slowly and turned around.

Luca stood there. I didn't know when he had arrived or how long he had been standing. He stood close to six-three in a perfectly tailored black suit, his dark hair brushed back, his features sharper than I remembered. Luca was still handsome, but the boyishness was gone. Five years had turned him into a man I barely recognized.

The men who had been draped over the sofas sat up straight and pushed the women off them. Alex straightened too. "Luca."

"What's going on?" He gave nothing away.

A man beside him jumped in first. "Alex ran into some girl he used to know, works here now, spilled wine all over him, and he's teaching her some manners!"

He had clearly gotten the wrong idea. Alex's face darkened and he kicked the man in the ass. "Shut your mouth."

Then he turned to Luca. "Luca, don't listen to them. She doesn't know how anything works around here, clumsy as hell, and she irritates me. I asked her to clean it up."

Luca ignored the man's antics. He didn't answer Alex either.

This man and the Luca who used to bend his head and kiss me, who used to put himself between me and the rest of the world--nothing of that boy was left.

I deliberately unclenched my fists and let my eyes fill with tears. It was one of my best masks, and the one that had made Luca want me in the first place. I knew what I looked like. I knew exactly which version of myself could make a man let his guard down.

Luca only stood there, looking down at me from his full height. His eyes traveled over my face slowly, level and unhurried, the way a man sizes up a stranger he has nothing to do with.

"Your shoes are dirty. Change them," he said to Alex. "And stop bickering with the waitress. Have some self-respect."