Sienna noticed a change coming before anything physical occurred, before kisses, before touches, before the limit she set in her mind finally broke.
It began with quick stares.
Lorenzo would look at her as if he already learned every curve of her mouth.
Dante's eyes, quieter but just as intense.
She tried to convince herself it wasn't real.
She told herself she was alone, and loneliness could distort things.
But lies don't last when desire stares at you right in the face.
That night, after eating, Sienna stayed to assist Matteo with taking away empty glasses.
He said she didn't need to, but she wanted something to occupy herself, something to keep her hands busy.
She stacked plates, trying to pay attention to the small task before her.
"Are you okay?" Matteo asked softly, noticing she was zoning out again.
"Yes," she replied. "Just sleepy."
He didn't believe her, his eyes softened, but he didn't press the issue.
That was something she liked about him. Matteo was the only Luciano brother who didn't feel like trouble waiting to happen.
The kitchen door opened quickly. She didn't need to look to know who it was.
Lorenzo's presence filled the rooms.
He came inside, dark hair slightly wet from working out, rolled sleeves showing veins she really shouldn't be looking at.
"You don't have to wash dishes," he told her, voice softer than normal.
"I want to. It helps me think."
"What are you thinking about?"
You.
Your brother.
This whole confusing mess.
She swallowed. "Nothing important."
His jaw moved slightly.
Matteo cleared his throat.
"Lorenzo, leave her alone. She's helping."
Lorenzo didn't look away from her.
His voice didn't get louder, but the air became tense anyway.
"No. She's tired. Go rest."
He moved closer to her, not touching, but close enough that every breath felt shared.
"Sienna…"
"Alexis," she corrected quietly.
"Right," he whispered, eyes looking at her lips. "Alexis."
Matteo sensed the tension and quietly left, saying something about needing to check on security.
The moment the door shut, the energy between them got stronger.
Lorenzo looked at her like he had been hiding something for too long.
"You keep avoiding me," he said.
"I'm not avoiding you."
"You are. You avoid my eyes. My touch." He paused.
"You avoid the truth."
Her heart raced. "What truth?"
"That you want this as much as I do."
She should've left. Increased the space between them.
But when his hand came up to move a strand of hair behind her ear, she didn't react. Didn't move at all. Didn't even breathe.
"You shouldn't say things like that," she whispered.
"Why not?" he questioned, moving nearer until she couldn't move any further because of the counter.
"Is it because you'll take my word for it? Or is it that you already know?"
She took a deep breath.
He put his forehead against hers, and for a brief time, the whole world became just his warm breath and the sureness in his eyes.
"Tell me to stop," he said.
She didn't say anything.
And Lorenzo, who was always emotionally cold, always keeping his distance, always in control, lost his composure.
His mouth came down on hers, slow enough to make her give in before she could even think.
His hands held her face.
The kiss was not gentle, because Lorenzo did not know how to be gentle, but it was eager, possessive, almost as if he yearned for this for a long time.
She did it without thinking. Her fingers gripped his shirt. Her heart raced.
Her body acted before her mind could understand.
He made a soft sound into her mouth, like her touch took him by surprise.
"Sienna…" he whispered on her lips.
That upset her, but only a little.
Then, the door opened.
And Dante stopped moving.
If Lorenzo was a flame, Dante was like smoke and quiet destruction.
He didn't say anything at first.
He just stood there, his chest rising and falling with a tension she immediately felt in her own body.
"Dante," she said quietly.
Lorenzo did not move away from her. He did not hide anything. He did not say sorry.
For a second, she thought they would fight.
She had seen enough angry arguments, enough intense looks, to think there would be violence.
But that did not happen.
Instead, Dante spoke in a voice so low it made her shiver.
"So this is really happening."
Lorenzo didn't even react. "This was always going to happen."
Dante's eyes looked at hers again, showing something real and hurt but also looking straight through her.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
The question almost broke her. She nodded slowly.
He moved closer, stopping just a short distance away.
He slowly reached up, unsure, almost shaking, touching her cheek like she might break if he touched her too fast.
"I shouldn't want this," he said quietly. "You know that."
"I know," she whispered.
"But I do," he said, his voice very quiet. "And I'm tired of acting like I don't."
He breathed out sharply, fighting himself for a final moment.
Then he kissed her, gently, painfully tender, completely different from Lorenzo.
Her hands touched his chest, and he made a sound against her mouth, like he had been starving and she was air.
The kiss got deeper, slow but all-consuming, and she didn't stop him. She didn't want to.
Lorenzo watched, his eyes getting darker, but he didn't pull Dante away.
He didn't leave either.This was not jealousy.
It was something entirely different.
When Dante finally stopped kissing her, his forehead touched hers, and his breathing was uneven.
"This is crazy," he said quietly.
Lorenzo spoke from behind her.
"So what? When have our lives been normal?"
Sienna's heart raced in her ears. "I… I don't understand this."
Lorenzo's fingers moved along her neck.
"We will understand it."
Dante took her hand, softly linking their fingers together.
"You don't have to pick."
Her breath caught suddenly. "People don't just… act like this."
"We're not people," Lorenzo said plainly. "We're Lucianos."
"And you," Dante whispered, rubbing her hand with his thumb,
"belong to us."
Her heart skipped a beat.
Because wanting just one Luciano was already risky.
But wanting two?
That was a disaster waiting to happen.
She knew i
t wouldn't continue. She knew something this strong would never finish calmly.
But when their hands touched her, when their eyes showed something that seemed like loyalty,
She didn't leave. She couldn't leave.