Chapter 11: Sienna

It had been a whole week already, and Vlad still hadn't even tried to reach out to check on me at least. It was radio silent on his end, like I meant nothing to him. Things hadn't ended well between us the last time we were together, which was ironic, considering how blissful everything started out.

Our connection was so strong, our conversations and interests so perfectly aligned that it never occurred to me—not even by the slightest of chances—that he would shatter my heart the way he did.

Now, I was sulking in bed, replaying the incidents in my head over and over again, trying to make sense of why he would treat me like that. Nothing reasonable came up. Was I missing something? What did I do to him?

I sniffled, holding back the tears that welled my swollen red eyes from lack of sleep and too much thinking. Pulling the sheets over my body, I tightened my grip around my pillow, which was literally the only shoulder I could lean on now.

I thought we'd had chemistry, like we had something good going on. Why the sudden change?

Vlad had fucked me so well that night at his place; he made me feel stuff I'd never felt before—fuck! He freaking made me cum!

I smiled at the thought of my body shivering in ecstasy while I expelled my juice. His touch was magical, and the effect on my body was a sweet sensation. He'd been a good lover who handled me like a real man and made me feel like a woman.

No one had ever fucked me the way that he did—none could match his skills and experience.

The smile on my face transformed into sadness as that glimpse of bliss was immediately overwhelmed by a shadow of despair. My heart was heavy and bleeding, and my head was aching from all that thinking.

I'd been trying to figure out what it was I did wrong, but so far, my efforts had been futile, and now, I couldn't help but blame myself. Maybe I'd been too forward; maybe I threw myself at him, and then he took advantage of that.

He was so attractive, and I wanted to feel him inside me so badly that I hadn't stopped for one minute to think about the speed of my pace. Everything was happening so fast, and I thought we were on the same page.

I was so stupid and na?ve.

What the fuck were you thinking? I slapped my forehead, embarrassed. Babushka warned you—she told you that he was bad—hell, Mom and Dad clearly didn't want you associating with him, but you didn't listen. You never do; that's your problem, Sienna. You always do what you want regardless of what anyone else thinks or says about it.

In a way, that's a good thing, another voice in my head said.

Is it, though? the previous voice asked. Because right now, she's sulking in bed, crying her eyes out.

Well, technically, she's not crying yet, the one said.

Stop indulging her. She fucked up.

Of course, she did, and she knows that—stop being too hard on her.

I'm sorry, but I can't. That's my job as her voice of reason.

I groaned at the constant voices in my head, threatening to drive me crazy.

"Please, be quiet for one second and let me think!" I said aloud.

For a moment there, it was silent in my head, and I let out an exhausted sigh.

Why are you so hurt anyway? It's not like he didn't tell you he was a bad guy, and bad guys do bad stuff, like breaking a pretty girl's heart. You know that.

"I do," I muttered, rubbing my eyes.

So, why are you so upset?

Because she feels used.

The other voice wasn't wrong. That was exactly how I was feeling.

Vlad had treated me like a one-night stand, like a little fling. I thought he had some respect for me, considering how gentle he was with my body. I thought I was different from other girls—special. But I was wrong. I was just another name he'd crossed off a long list of girls.

His cold words resounded in my head: Go home, Sienna. I have work to do.

It wasn't what he'd said that hurt me; it was how he'd said it. His tone was cold and indifferent, evidence of his disregard for my feelings. That was what hurt me. To make matters worse, his expression was unreadable, and I knew then that I truly meant nothing to him. I was just some used trash to be disposed of.

I tried to give him the benefit of doubt, but it had been seven days already, and still no word from him—that was one-hundred sixty-eight hours, ten-thousand eighty minutes, and six-hundred four-thousand eight-hundred seconds. If you asked me, that was long enough.

Alright, enough sulking, Sienna, my voice of reason said. Vlad's been such a sick dick to you.

True. That was a dick move.

Clearly, he didn't want me around anymore; he'd gotten what he wanted from me.

The connection I thought we'd shared was one-sided by the looks of things, although the attraction was real. We'd acted on it, and he got more than enough.

You're hurting. But you need to get over it, the other voice said. He's moved on like you never existed. You should do the same.

Hold on, my voice of reason chipped in. What if you're wrong? What if Vlad hasn't moved on like you think? What if there's something more to this that meets the eye?

Are you on his side now? the other voice asked, prompting me to frown.

I'm not. I'm only pointing out a possibility that we're leaving out of the equation.

Part of me wanted to believe that this was true—that maybe there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for his behavior. But I couldn't put my heart on the line for a possibility. No, I wouldn't; it wasn't worth it.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand, and I glanced at it.

Maybe it's him.

My eyes widened in anticipation.

Don't get your hopes up, the other voice warned sternly.

I stretched out my hand and snatched the phone; my shoulders dropped in disappointment when I realized the caller was Fiona.

Told ya.

Fiona had been so supportive since the incident with Vlad, and she'd been helping me cope with this heartbreak. She vouched for him for at least five days, urging me to be positive. But two days ago, she concluded that he had done that on purpose and that he was a playboy; Mr. Bad Boy were her exact words.

"Hi, Fi," I said, my voice low and faint as I rubbed the bridge of my nose.

"Hey," she replied with a soft, soothing tone. "How are you?"

I yawned, stretching. "I'm fine."

"How are you really?" she insisted.

"Fi, I'm fine."

She was quiet for a moment on the other line. "Okay, then, I guess you won't have a problem with who I saw last night."

My eyes narrowed. "Please, don't ask me to guess," I said, unwilling to do that with her today.

"Uhh…okay," she replied as though that was exactly what she had in mind.

"Fi, what is it?" I demanded.

"Don't freak out," she said; that was a heads-up.

"Why would I do that?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

"Well, I was at a hotel bar with Jack last night, and you wouldn't believe who I spotted."

I had a good idea who she had spotted, and that made my heart skip a beat. Slowly, I pushed the sheets to the side and sat upright. "Who did you spot?"

She paused for a minute. "It was Vlad."

My eyes shut reflexively at the mention of his name; it was as if my heart had been ripped apart by a fucking dagger. I was speechless, unsure of what to feel about this. He was at a bar, so what? I knew that he'd moved on already.

"Sia, you there?" she asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I am," I replied. "What was he doing?" Now, I sounded like an obsessed girlfriend keeping tabs on her man. Ridiculous!

"Uhm…first, you have to promise not to go ballistic," she said, her cautious tone suggesting that she was about to drop a bombshell that would test my ability to remain composed.

Okay, this was definitely going to be juicy—and not the good kind.

"Fi, what was he doing?" I asked through gritted teeth, feeling a rush of anger surge through me.

"I don't know, but he was surrounded by a bunch of women," she said. "And other men, of course."

A bunch of what now?

I was suddenly so pissed that I could feel my nails sinking into my flesh as I balled a fist. He was out with some men and surrounded by women; that sounded a lot like he was having fun. Of course, he was, and I was here sulking in bed because of him.

I told you he wasn't worth it, my inner voice said.

"I took some pictures. Would you like to—"

I cut her off. "Send them."

"Okay. Just don't do anything irrational."

A few seconds later, my phone chimed, and I lowered it, looking at the photos she'd sent. Filled with rage, I pursed my lips, glaring at the images on my screen as I scrolled through them. My breath was rapid, and my face scrunched up as I tightened my hold against the poor sheets.

In all of the photos, there was this one woman that was all over him, like a moth to a flame. He was seated on a sofa, impeccably dressed up in a nice, tailored suit with a stick of cigar hanging off his lips. The woman's proximity made my brows furrow, and I clenched my fist.

I scrolled through to the next photo. Vlad was leaning on the couch, sipping from a pitcher with the same woman leaning in his arms. They both seemed cozy, laughing, chattering, and having a good time.

From the angles these pictures were taken, Vlad looked super handsome, and the camera really captured those dashing eyes of his.

Still thinking there's something more about his behavior than meets the eye? one of the voices asked.

Okay, I take it back. He's just a total asshole, my voice of reason admitted.

He'd used me to satisfy his urge, to quench his desires. I was a fool to expect more from a man who viewed the world from a broken lens. He'd warned me against being too close to him, and I hadn't listened.

I cast a piercing stare at the woman in the photo, feeling sorry for her because he'd just spend the night with her and then dump her the morning after.

My parents had been right. Babushka had been right. Vlad was bad news.

"That's Lily, the woman in the pictures," Fiona said, drawing back my attention. "She's a famous escort."

Lily was beautiful, with a pretty smile and black hair that cascaded down her shoulders. Her pale blue eyes matched the color of her sexy gown, with a long slit that revealed her alluring thighs.

He clearly had a type—the hot ones—and I wondered what neat trick he'd use to lure her into his bed, if he hadn't done that already.

He'd caught me with his love for art; what would he use on her this time?

I guess you'll never know, a voice said.

Remind me not to fall so stupidly ever again , I thought.

We got you, the voices said at the same time. Now what? What's your plan?

"Sia, you with me?" Fiona asked. "Look, I'm sorry if this upset you or if I shouldn't have taken the photos—I just thought that you deserved to know so you'd stop beating yourself up, worrying about Mr. Bad Boy, who's obviously having a time of his life even after how he treated you," she said in a rush. "He doesn't deserve you, Sia. He doesn't deserve your tears."

I took a sharp intake of breath. She's right; he doesn't.

While I'd been stuck in here, obsessing over the situation, Mr. Bad Boy was out there, busy crossing names off his list.

With that, I got out of bed, headed to the windows, and parted the curtains.

"Sia?" Fiona called, worried about my silence.

"There's no need to apologize, Fi, you did me a solid," I replied. "How's your Friday gonna be?"

"Uhm, I'm not sure yet. Why?"

"Because I want us to go clubbing. I need to get my mind off a lot of things," I blurted.

"Amazing!" she exclaimed. "That's perfect. You've sulked long enough. Time to have some fun."

I was done wallowing in self-pity. Since Vlad was having the time of his life with other women, I shouldn't isolate myself from the rest of the world because of him.

I flashed a sly grin, my lips curling up at the corners. "We're gonna party hard!"

The thumping bass and infectious beats of the DJ's music seemed to echo in my head as if I were already in the club.