Chapter 5: Sienna

It was a beautiful morning in New York City, and I was tangling in my sheets, staring blankly at the ceiling as I clung to a pillow like a lifeline. The yellow sun shining through my window cast a warm glow that draped across my room, illuminating anything in its path.

I remained snug in bed, feeling too comfortable to get up as I was wrapped in a blanket of laziness. And to make matters worse, Bruno Mars' "The Lazy Song" wouldn't stop playing in my head.

"Yep, buddy. Looks like, today, I really don't feel like doing anything." I sighed, rolling over to the other side. "Nothing at all."

I caught my reflection in the mirror across the room just in time to watch a smile play on my lips as I recalled the day I'd met Vlad.

His aura of confidence and power still had a hold over me. And his eyes…those beautiful hazel brown eyes!

I couldn't shake him off my mind, and honestly, I didn't want to. Delving into my memory of him was satisfying.

Despite my parents' reservations and Babushka's glaring dislike for the man, I still found him really fascinating and interesting.

I wondered why, though. Why was there so much tension in the room that day? Why did my grandma feel that much hatred for him? Even Mom didn't waste any time showing her disapproval of me asking questions about Vlad.

Babushka said Vlad was mafia and had once dragged Dad into the criminal underground business. Maybe this was why she hated him. Was that a good enough reason?

My curiosity was piqued; I needed to know who he was and what the internet had to say about him. Grandma had her opinion, but I needed to find out for myself.

Out of the blue, a zeal to get out of bed struck me, and I sprang to my feet, flinging my sheets to the side.

Barefoot, I headed to my table by the window, my steps silent on the polished marble floor. Sitting in my chair, I flipped my laptop open, ready for a quick search.

My fingers rattled across the keyboard as I typed in his name. Shit! What's his last name?

I didn't know it. No one had told me, and I forgot to ask. Well, they probably wouldn't have told me even if I had asked, given the hostility around anything concerning the man.

What should I do?

I stared at the laptop screen, watching the cursor blink on the search bar, waiting for my next word. After thinking for a moment, I hit the enter key, and the internet worked its magic.

"No…no…no…not him…." Those were the only words I muttered as I scrolled through my search results. The images that popped up on my screen weren't of him.

"Hold on." I quickly zoomed in on a picture of a handsome man in a long fur coat.

But on a closer look, I realized it wasn't him. Another dead end.

There was nothing on the internet about the Vlad that I was looking for. Even when I decided to search for any Vlad associated with the Russian mafia, nothing about him popped up.

I dropped my head into my hands and slumped my shoulders. Leaning back in my chair, I let out an exhausted sigh.

"Hope you're happy now," I said to myself, referring to my parents.

It was established that Mom and Dad were keen on keeping information about him from me, only sharing what they deemed necessary.

Not cool.

Back in Russia, about two days after Vlad's visit, Dad had received an invite from him. Babushka was against the idea, obviously, but he said he'd be fine. He'd taken Mom with him, so I naturally asked, "What about me?"

He'd replied, "You're staying back with the rest of the family."

That had really hurt, and it pissed me off because I was already looking forward to seeing him again. When Dad had announced Vlad's invitation to his place, I was sitting beside my grandmother, and my excitement soared. But he'd crushed my hopes and shattered my joy.

I didn't know how Vlad did it, but he had somehow managed to crawl under my skin. He'd taken a place in my heart and was already living rent-free in my head. It was an amazing feeling but scary at the same time.

Why was I so attracted to this man? I was willing to rebel against my entire family. Why was that?

I threw my hands into my hair, letting out an exasperated groan.

Vlad was still in my mind: his handsome face and the scent of his cologne. I drew in a deep breath, recalling how I'd felt when my knees turned to jelly after he stopped before me. The energy that accentuated his presence had left me almost literally breathless. As he stared at me without a word, my heart had raced so fast, and my eyes rapidly blinked as I tried to stay reserved. I'd had butterflies in my belly, and the smile on my face was genuine.

Did I blush when he looked at me? I wondered.

I think you totally did , one of the voices in my head said.

Fuck, it's so embarrassing—but he was so hot he made my heart boil.

It's your father's friend we're talking about, Sia. Stop having funny thoughts, my voice of reason chipped in with a sound warning.

That voice was absolutely right, but it wasn't something I had total control over. I wanted to stop thinking about him—I really did—at least because he was Dad's old buddy. It was just impossible to do so. He'd left a mark on my soul the day we met, and even though I was almost certain that he didn't feel the same way about me as I did about him, I couldn't get him out of my mind.

Thoughts of him were like poison, slowly moving through my system and eventually breaking all of my defenses. It felt good, and that was the problem.

A line from Beyoncé's "Poison" popped into my head: "How can something so deadly feel so right?"

The sound of my phone buzzing on my nightstand interrupted my thoughts. At first, I didn't want to answer it, but when it started buzzing again, I got out of the chair and walked toward it.

I saw Fiona's name flashing on the screen, and with a smile, I answered. "Hi, Fi."

"What happened? Why didn't you pick up on the first ring?" she asked on the other line.

"Uhh…" I drawled lazily.

"You know what? Forget it—I've got news!" She literally shrieked on the last statement, her voice vibrating with excitement.

This had to be really good to get her so elated.

Fiona Winter was my twenty-one-year-old Russian best friend, gossip buddy, confidant, and college classmate. She was feisty, although an introvert. Thanks to my influence on her, she could socialize sometimes. Most of the time, though, she loved her private space.

We both had a passion for art and spent a lot of time studying together. On campus, wherever one of us was seen, the other wasn't too far behind. That's how close we were. Buddies—BFFs.

"Okay," I said, indulging her.

"What do you mean, okay ? Come on, guess."

My mind was blank at the moment. I couldn't think of anything other than Vlad.

"You got back together with Kyle?" I gave it a shot, raising my brows.

"What? No!" she barked.

Yep! I should not have said that. The bastard had shattered her heart, and now she hated him.

"Just tell me already," I urged her, unwilling to play her game this morning.

"Fine," she budged.

"Thank you."

She muttered something under her breath, but I couldn't make out what it was.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

I smiled. Fiona must have grumbled about how I crushed her vibe. It was funny, considering that usually, she was the party pooper, not me.

She continued, "Anyway, since you've decided to be such a buzz kill, I'll just play your game."

I chuckled softly.

"My cousin—you know, the one I told you about, who's a famous artist?"

My eyes widened at this point, and I was immediately more receptive. "Wait, Caspian Nightingale?"

"Oh, now you're interested," she teased.

"Come on, you know how much I love his art," I said, my whole body buzzing with anticipation for what she had to say.

Caspian Nightingale was a very famous artist in the city of New York. His skills were out of this world, and I admired all of his achievements. Why wouldn't I? He was good at what he did and was where I'd always wanted to be. I truly loved his work, and oftentimes, I drew my inspiration from his pieces.

The guy was really talented.

"Fi, talk to me," I said, my voice raising in my excitement.

"Okay, so he's having an exclusive gallery display this Friday, and guess what? We're going!" Fiona exclaimed.

I gasped, just about ready to jump for joy. "Shut the front door!"

She laughed. "I'm serious!"

"Oh, my God, that's great news!" Smiling from ear to ear, I couldn't contain my feelings.

"I know, right?"

"Honestly, I still haven't gotten over his last exhibition yet; it was so breathtaking." I tossed myself into my chair, my heart soaring.

"Yeah, tell me about it," she replied with a sigh. "Wanna know what I heard?"

Knowing Fiona, she must have wiggled her brows mischievously while asking me that. Like I said, gossip buddy.

"What did you hear?" I asked, shifting in my seat.

She hesitated before giving her reply, allowing the suspense to hit me first. "He's been working on some new pieces, and they say they're even better than the last ones."

"That's so cool," I declared. "Fi, we have to look our best. This sounds like it's going to be a big event."

"I know, and it's going to be super amazing, too."

"I really can't wait, Fi." I was already imagining the vibrant art and the bustling gallery atmosphere.

"Me, neither," she said. "Okay, so what're you gonna wear? Because honestly, that's not really my mojo."

"Don't worry. I've got you," I assured her.

We spent the next few minutes discussing what we'd wear, who we'd meet at the exhibition, what the art would look like, and all that stuff.

This was exactly the type of distraction that I needed. At least now I was thinking about something other than Vlad; I was free from the spell he'd cast on me.

Just like that, the laziness that had plagued me all morning lost its hold over me, and I rose to my feet, ready to start my day.

I headed to the bathroom, freshened up, and skipped downstairs to have breakfast. It was going to be a great twenty-four hours; that was for sure.

From the top of the stairs, I heard my parents' voices; they seemed to be talking about something important, judging by their tones. At first, I wanted to dismiss the conversation as regular talk; then, I heard his name on my dad's lips, the name of the man who'd been running through my mind all morning.

Abruptly, I stopped in my tracks to listen in on their conversation, but their voices were still muffled, and I couldn't really make out what they were saying.

With gentle steps, I walked down the stairs, and the closer I got, the clearer their words became.

I halted by the wall, eavesdropping on them.

"Vlad is coming to New York?" Mom asked, her voice filled with a mix of surprise and apprehension, a hint of concern creeping up in her tone.

Wait, what? Did I mishear, or did she just ask if Vlad was coming to the city?

"Yes," Dad replied. "Apparently, Maksim wants him to take care of business here for now," he added.

Wow! Amazing.

I grinned widely, my heart speeding up. More good news in the space of minutes. The universe must really be smiling on me today.

"So, that means he's—"

"Yes, Natalie," he replied. "Vlad is moving to New York."

My eyes widened. This day couldn't get any better! I was screaming on the inside. Finally, I'd see him again because he was definitely going to stop by the house to greet his old friend as he had back in Russia.

Perfect.

What will you do when you see him? I asked myself and paused for a second. I hadn't given it much thought, really. What would I truly do?

If he dropped by to see Dad one of these days, then what?

"Paul, I know Vlad is your friend…" Mom began.

Uh-oh, that can't be good.

Whenever Mom started a sentence like that, she was about to drop something that would inevitably contradict whatever was spoken before.

I braced myself, knowing there was a ninety-eight percent chance that I wouldn't like what would come out of her mouth next.

"…but he's not a good guy, and you know that. You, of all people, know that he's trouble," she continued.

"I know," Dad said softly.

"Please, make sure he keeps a distance from us," Mom said. "We can't have him jeopardizing everything we've worked so hard to build."

"Way to go, Mom," I said to myself.

Well, there goes your shot.

She just had to ruin this for me.

I guess I won't be seeing him anytime soon.

With that, Mom left, and I could hear her footsteps retreating. I snuck a peak from behind the wall and saw Dad standing all by himself, rubbing his eyes.

It looked like this was going to be a tough call for him. Vlad was his friend, so it made sense that this would weigh him down a little.

I exhaled sharply, struggling to come to terms with the fact that Vlad wouldn't set foot in this house, at least not in a long time.