Chapter 2 - At His Mother’s Birthday, Sienna Learned the Woman Leonardo Was Supposed to Marry Did Not Want Him Either.
Friday arrived too quickly.
Sienna spent the afternoon at a costume shop in Midtown being fitted for a green silk dress Leonardo’s assistant had sent over with a note:
Choose something you would actually wear.
That mattered.
She had expected a stylist to turn her into a version of herself designed for wealthy people.
Instead, she was given choices.
Three dresses.
Her own shoes if she preferred.
No diamonds she would have to worry about losing.
She chose the green.
At six-thirty, a black car stopped outside her building.
Not a limousine.
A discreet sedan.
The driver, Victor, introduced himself and did not open the rear door until she reached it.
Inside, Leonardo sat reading from a tablet.
He looked up.
Stopped.
There.
Not theatrical.
Still enough that she noticed.
“You look…” he began.
Sienna waited.
He smiled faintly.
“Like you chose correctly.”
Good answer.
She slid in.
“Were you about to say beautiful?”
“I considered it.”
“And?”
“You are being paid to be convincing, not complimented into compliance.”
There.
She almost laughed.
“That was annoyingly careful.”
“I paid a lawyer to make me annoying.”
Good.
The car left Brooklyn.
For twenty minutes, Leonardo briefed her.
His mother:
Elena Vitali.
Seventy.
Widowed five years.
Kind, perceptive, impossible to deceive for long.
His father:
Dario Vitali.
Alive.
Seventy-four.
Technically retired.
Practically not.
There.
Sienna looked.
“I thought you said your father expected the marriage.”
“He does.”
“So your mother doesn’t?”
Leonardo’s mouth tightened.
“She has opinions.”
“That is not an answer.”
“No.”
Good.
Then Morettis.
Donato Moretti.
Old ally.
Shipping.
Construction.
Private lending.
His daughter:
Bianca Moretti.
Thirty-four.
Corporate attorney.
No one had asked Bianca whether she wanted Leonardo either.
There.
Sienna looked at him.
“Wait.”
He glanced.
“You are blowing up an arranged marriage with a woman who also does not want to marry you?”
“Yes.”
“Why doesn’t she just say no?”
Leonardo looked out window.
“Because her father owns thirty-one percent of a port consortium my father wants.”
There.
“And your father controls access Moretti needs?”
“Yes.”
“So this isn’t romance.”
“No.”
“It’s merger paperwork with flowers.”
There.
Leonardo looked at her.
“That is approximately how Bianca described it.”
Sienna leaned back.
“Do you know her?”
“Yes.”
“Do you like her?”
“Yes.”
Sienna blinked.
“Then why—”
“As a person.”
There.
He continued.
“She has been trying to leave family business for three years.”
“Can’t she?”
“Not cleanly.”
There.
That phrase.
Sienna did not ask more.
Not yet.
The estate in Westchester appeared behind stone walls and bare trees.
Security at gate.
Cameras.
Men in dark coats.
Sienna’s stomach tightened.
Leonardo noticed.
“Do you want to leave?”
There.
The question came before they entered.
Good.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m nervous.”
There.
“That is different.”
Good.
He nodded.
Then:
“Your exit provision applies tonight.”
“I know.”
“If anything changes, tell me or Victor.”
“I know.”
Good.
He did not say:
I’ll protect you.
She appreciated that more.
The house was warm.
Too warm.
Gold light.
Old paintings.
White flowers.
People turned when Leonardo entered.
Not because he was loud.
Because rooms adjusted around him.
Sienna understood immediately why newspapers wrote “Vitali Holdings” and other people used quieter words.
Leonardo’s hand hovered near the small of her back.
Did not touch.
He looked down.
She nodded once.
There.
His palm rested lightly.
Performed affection.
Contract.
Still, her body noticed.
Annoying.
Then Elena Vitali approached.
Silver hair.
Black dress.
Sharp eyes.
She ignored Leonardo first.
Looked at Sienna.
“So.”
There.
Sienna smiled.
“So.”
Elena’s mouth curved.
“I like her.”
Leonardo sighed.
“Mother.”
“What?”
“You have known her seven seconds.”
“Long enough to know she did not curtsy.”
Good.
Sienna laughed.
Then Elena embraced Leonardo.
Real affection.
No fear.
Interesting.
“You look tired.”
she told him.
“Happy birthday.”
“You ignored my question.”
“I am tired.”
There.
Elena looked at Sienna.
“Does he always answer like legal counsel?”
“Worse.”
There.
Elena smiled.
Good.
Dinner began with thirty people.
Not seventy.
Still too many.
Sienna sat beside Leonardo.
Across from Bianca Moretti.
There.
Bianca was striking.
Dark hair.
Cream suit.
Calm face.
Not jealous.
Not humiliated.
She looked at Sienna once.
Then at Leonardo.
Then down at wine.
A tiny smile.
Interesting.
Donato Moretti did not smile.
He asked Leonardo:
“How long?”
There.
“Two months.”
Leonardo answered.
Lie.
Contractual lie.
Sienna knew their cover story.
Met through arts fundraiser.
Quietly dating eight weeks.
Kept private.
No accidental contradictions.
Good.
Donato looked at Sienna.
“What do you do?”
“Act.”
There.
His expression changed.
“Professionally?”
“Yes.”
There.
A few people laughed.
Sienna did not.
Then he asked:
“What have I seen you in?”
“Probably nothing.”
There.
Leonardo’s thumb moved once against her back.
Maybe amusement.
Donato looked irritated.
Bianca took a sip of wine.
Then said:
“She was excellent in The Glass Menagerie last spring.”
There.
Sienna looked at her.
Bianca met her eyes.
There.
She had done homework.
Or actually seen it.
“Thank you.”
Bianca nodded.
Donato looked between them.
Then ignored Sienna for ten minutes.
Good.
The first real danger appeared during dessert.
Dario Vitali raised his glass.
There.
“To family.”
Everyone lifted.
Then:
“And to the end of unnecessary delays.”
There.
He looked directly at Leonardo.
Meaning marriage.
Alliance.
Port consortium.
Sienna felt Leonardo’s body go still beside her.
Then Donato said:
“Some arrangements exist for a reason.”
There.
Bianca placed fork down.
Leonardo answered:
“Then they should survive consent.”
There.
Table quieted.
Dario’s face hardened.
“This is not the place.”
Leonardo’s voice stayed calm.
“You made it the place.”
There.
Sienna felt every eye.
Then Dario looked at her.
“You understand what you are interrupting?”
There.
Not:
Who are you?
What are you worth?
What are you interrupting.
Good.
Sienna answered carefully.
“I understand Leonardo told you he is in a relationship.”
There.
Dario smiled without warmth.
“You think that is enough?”
She could have played sweetness.
The contract did not require submissiveness.
So:
“It should be enough for marriage.”
There.
Silence.
Elena hid smile behind glass.
Bianca looked down.
Donato did not.
Then Dario said:
“You are young.”
Sienna almost laughed.
Thirty-one.
Not young in audition rooms.
“You mean inexperienced with this family.”
There.
“Correct.”
“Then maybe that is useful.”
There.
Leonardo turned slightly.
Interested.
Sienna continued.
“Everyone here seems to know what everyone else is supposed to do.”
There.
“Maybe that is why no one asks whether they want to.”
Good.
Dario’s eyes sharpened.
Then Elena said:
“Birthday rule.”
There.
Everyone looked.
“No business threats over tiramisu.”
There.
The tension cracked.
Not disappeared.
Enough.
Dinner continued.
After, Bianca found Sienna alone near conservatory.
“Walk?”
There.
Sienna hesitated.
Then nodded.
They moved where others could still see.
Good.
Bianca said:
“I owe you an apology.”
“For what?”
“For participating in a situation where you were brought in as cover.”
There.
“You didn’t hire me.”
“No.”
“Did you know?”
“That Leonardo would refuse me?”
“Yes.”
There.
“That he would hire an actress?”
“No.”
Good.
Sienna laughed.
“Neither did I until Tuesday.”
Bianca smiled.
Then:
“I really did see your play.”
There.
“What?”
“The Glass Menagerie.”
There.
“My law school roommate dragged me.”
There.
“You were good.”
Sienna stared.
“Thank you.”
Then Bianca said:
“My father thinks marriage would stabilize both families.”
There.
“What do you think?”
“That if two companies need a wedding to remain solvent, they should hire better accountants.”
There.
Sienna laughed.
There.
Good.
No female rivalry.
Then Bianca’s smile faded.
“But it is not just companies.”
There.
“What is it?”
Bianca looked toward dining room.
“Your contract probably has limits.”
There.
“It does.”
“Then I won’t put you in the middle.”
Good.
Sienna respected that.
Then:
“But if Leonardo asks you to perform affection in front of my father, do not confuse my silence with approval of the arrangement.”
There.
“What arrangement?”
“Being used as an asset.”
There.
Bianca looked at her.
“I am trying to stop being one.”
There.
Then she walked away.
Later, in car back to Brooklyn, Sienna said:
“She doesn’t want to marry you.”
“No.”
Leonardo looked tired.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“Then why not just refuse together?”
There.
His jaw tightened.
“Because my refusal costs me an argument.”
There.
“Her refusal costs her access to assets her father controls, board positions, and possibly her place in the family business she built half her adult life around.”
There.
Sienna frowned.
“So you hired me to make your no more credible while hers remains expensive.”
There.
Leonardo looked at her.
There.
He had not expected that.
“No.”
Then corrected.
“Partly.”
Good.
“Then this isn’t enough.”
Sienna said.
“What isn’t?”
“Our fake relationship.”
There.
“If your goal is just to escape, fine.”
There.
“But if Bianca still gets trapped, you didn’t break the arrangement.”
There.
“You changed the person paying for it.”
Good.
Leonardo went quiet.
Rain moved across window.
Then:
“What do you suggest?”
Sienna almost laughed.
“I am an actress with eviction notice.”
There.
“You are the mafia billionaire.”
He looked.
“Businessman.”
“Sure.”
Good.
Then she said:
“Ask Bianca what she wants.”
There.
Not rescue.
Ask.
Leonardo stared at city lights.
Then nodded.
“I will.”
Good.
The car stopped outside Sienna’s building.
Before she opened door, Leonardo said:
“You did well tonight.”
There.
“Was I convincing?”
“Yes.”
“Did your father believe it?”
“No.”
There.
“Excellent.”
“He believes I’m using you.”
Sienna’s hand stopped.
“Are you?”
There.
Leonardo looked at her.
The contract sat invisibly between them.
Two million dollars.
Her mother’s hospital account.
His family pressure.
“Yes.”
There.
Honest.
“To a degree.”
There.
Sienna nodded.
“Good.”
His brow furrowed.
“Good?”
“I’d rather know the truth while I’m deciding whether the price is worth it.”
There.
She opened door.
Then turned back.
“And Leonardo?”
“Yes?”
“If you ever start thinking the contract buys my loyalty instead of my performance, I walk.”
There.
He nodded once.
“That is exactly what it says.”
“I know.”
Good.
She stepped into rain.
The next morning, her first installment cleared.
Two hundred thousand dollars.
There.
Enough to stop eviction.
Enough to move her mother’s hospital balance from panic to plan.
Sienna stared at bank screen.
Relief came.
Then something else.
Fear.
Because money this large can feel like freedom while quietly becoming gravity.
She closed laptop.
Then called her lawyer.
“Read the exit clause to me again.”
May you like
There.
And listened until she remembered that being paid to stay was not the same thing as being unable to leave.
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