Page 51 of Vows of Blood

"What?" It’s a whisper.

Luca shakes his head, a bitter smile twisting his lips. "Doesn't matter. The point is, I waited. You didn't come. End of story."

"That's not what happened," I say quietly, staring down at the man I thought just left me behind, that I cried over every night for months. I blink back tears, refusing to let the rush of emotions building up inside me take over, refusing to admit that I might have been wrong too.

"Then what happened, Sienna?" He’s on his feet now, palms planted on either side of his plate as he stares me down.

He was there. And yet, he has no idea.

"You never thought to check why I wasn’t? To find out whether I was okay?" My anger pours out now, years of wondering, of pain, rising to the surface. "At least I tried. I couldn't find you after… You moved, and your number was cut off. You didn’t even want to speak with me?"

Luca stares at me, jaw set.

"I figured you standing me up was a pretty big hint you didn't want me after all." He throws his arms out to the side and steps back suddenly. The chair tips back behind him with a loud crack as he points to the gun hanging on the chair beside him and then waves a hand along his body at his mafia don persona. “You didn’t want this life.”

Oh, I wanted him alright. More than anything.

"If you knew me even one bit as well as I thought you did, you'd have known none of that mattered to me. That I wouldn't have given you up without a fight." I stumble back, the fact that he never reached out as heartbreaking today as it was back then. "But you never looked back, not once."

“How fucking dare you?” He glares at me, nostrils flaring, as I face off against him, fists clenched at my sides, jaw aching from how hard I'm gritting my teeth. The longer I look at him though, the more his certainty cracks.

"Sienna, don’t fuck with me." He drags a hand through his hair, frustration rolling off him. "You were really there?”

I nod.

“No. You couldn’t have been." Brows pulling together, he looks away, trying to piece together his version of the night and seeing if there's any way it could be true. "I would have known."

He looks at me, seeing the truth written all over my face, and his features twist.

"You really think I would have just abandoned you?" I whisper, my heart breaking.

When he doesn’t say anything, I toss my balled-up napkin onto the table and snatch up the untouched glass of white wine Carmella left me, intending to take it to my room. "You should have known better."

I turn to leave, needing to get away, but his hand closes around my arm before I make it two steps, spilling my wine on the marble floor.

"Don't you dare walk away from me," Luca warns.

I stare down at his hand, his long fingers wrapping around my bare upper arm, and try to pull free. "Let go."

All I succeed in doing is splashing the two of us.

The old Luca would have released me immediately. Not this one. He spins me to face him, his grip firm but not painful.

"Not until I know the truth."

If he hasn’t put the pieces together, I’m not sure it’s a good idea that I spell it out for him. Squirming, I twist and turn, but it’s pointless. He’s too strong.

"Why? It doesn't matter now,” I hiss, avoiding those intense brown eyes of his that could always see straight into my soul.

"It matters to me," he shouts. His sincerity now versus how he acted at the time, sends my frustration sky high.

It’s easy to say that now after he was so quick to cast me aside then.

"Since when?" I shove at his chest with my free hand, but it's like pushing granite. “Please just drop it.”

My pleas fall on deaf ears. Luca doesn't budge, just stands there, a wall of muscle and stubborn determination to get to the truth while blocking my escape.

"Tell me.” Luca’s fingers catch my chin, forcing me to look at him as he removes the glass from my hand and sets it down.