MasukSienna blamed boredom for agreeing to lunch. Definitely not the flutter in her stomach every time she read the messages.
"You're going?" Theo asked over the phone. "It's lunch, not marriage." "That's how billionaire disasters begin." Sienna rolled her eyes while checking her reflection in the mirror. Minimal makeup, hair down and a simple black dress with spaghetti straps that fell just above her ankles and had a slightly risky split to her mid thigh. She kept telling herself it was to keep cool in the Monaco autumn heat. "I can hear you overthinking," Theo informed her. "I'm not overthinking." "You changed outfits, didn't you?" Silence. "Oh my God," Theo groaned. "You like him." "I barely know him." "That wasn't a denial." Sienna ended the call before he could get more insufferable and five minutes later, she was stepping out onto the sidewalk trying to ignore her nerves. Luca had chosen a restaurant overlooking the marina. It was beautiful with white stone walls, soft music and ocean views. And Luca somehow looked even more attractive in the midday sun. He stood and moved towards her as soon as he saw her approaching, his dark sunglasses pushed back into messy hair, sleeves rolled casually to his forearms. "You came," he said, offering her his arm. "Temporary lapse in judgment." She tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. "I was hoping for finding me overwhelming attractive." "That too." The words slipped out before she could stop them. Luca's grin widened slowly. They reached the table and Luca pulled out a chair for her. She rolled her eyes as she sat down. "You're very smug right now." "You admitted I'm attractive. This is a big moment." "I'm sure your ego was struggling before this." "Constantly." Luca pulled out the chair across from her and sat down. "So," he said once they'd ordered drinks, "have the tabloids convinced you I'm a criminal yet?" "I saw the Ferrari fountain photos," she continued. "You looked very relaxed for someone being arrested." "Like I said, I have excellent lawyers." She shook her head as a breeze drifted through the restaurant terrace, lifting strands of hair across Sienna's face. Luca watched her quietly before speaking again. "You almost didn't come." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "What makes you think that?" "You came in looking for escape routes." "I was." Luca leaned back in his chair, amused. "Am I really that intimidating?" "No," Sienna admitted honestly. "You're worse." His eyebrow lifted. "What?" "You're charming on purpose." That actually surprised him. "Most people fall for the headlines," he said. "The arrogant playboy thing?" "It's useful." Sienna studied him. "You hide behind it." Luca went still for a second before the easy smile returned instantly. "You're observant." "I'm a photographer." "No." His gaze held hers. "You pay attention." Heat curled low in her stomach again and she had to stiffle a groan at her own bodies reaction. Lunch should've felt awkward. Instead, it felt easy. Luca teased her while she insulted him. At one point she caught herself forgetting he was famous and as she relaxed around him, she understood why women fell for Luca Moretti. It wasn't the money or the looks. It was the attention. When Luca focused on someone, it was consuming. "You're staring again," Sienna said. "I like your face." "You're unbelievable." "You still came to lunch." Before she could answer, movement near the edge of the terrace caught her attention. Three photographers stood outside the restaurant barriers pointing cameras toward them. Sienna froze. "Oh no." Luca glanced over his shoulder once before sighing softly. "Right on schedule." More photographers were gathering now. Cameras flashed aggressively across the terrace. "Luca! Who's the girl?" "Are you dating?" "Look this way!" Sienna's stomach dropped. "This is ridiculous." "Welcome to Monaco," Luca said dryly. Another camera flash exploded directly toward her face. Sienna flinched instinctively and Luca's entire expression changed. The teasing disappeared. His jaw tightened slightly as he stood from the table. "Enough," he said sharply toward the photographers. The edge in his voice surprised her. But it carried quiet authority and yet the photographers ignored him. "Sienna," Luca said calmly, turning back toward her and holding out his hand, "come here." He helped her up and as he kept hold of her one hand in his, he placed the other lightly against the middle of her back, effectively pinning her to his side. The touch was protective. Steady. Reassuring. "This happens often?" she asked quietly as he started to manouver them towards the back of the restaurant. "Unfortunately." Another photographer pushed closer toward the terrace entrance. "Luca, is she your girlfriend?" Sienna muttered something inappropriate under her breath. To Luca's credit, he looked amused. She allowed him keep moving them through the restaurant toward a private side exit near the kitchens. Staff immediately moved aside for him. "You have a secret paparazzi tunnel?" Sienna asked as they moved quickly through the hallway. "I have experience." "That's somehow sad." "It's mostly annoying." The second they stepped outside into the quieter back alley behind the restaurant, Sienna exhaled hard. Luca released her hand but kept his touch light on her back as he guided them towards a sleek, black car. "You okay?" he asked quietly. The concern in his voice caught her off guard. "I'm fine," she said after a second. "Just slightly traumatized." "That's fair." Sienna laughed softly despite herself. Then she looked up at him properly. Big mistake because Luca was already watching her and that her pulse start misbehaving again. "You know," Luca murmured, "most women would've enjoyed the attention." "I'm beginning to think most women are idiots." His grin appeared instantly. "There she is." Sienna shook her head, trying unsuccessfully not to smile back and that frightened her more than the paparazzi had.The Menton morning light had changed over the past year. It still arrived softly, still slipped through the curtains in warm ribbons, still brushed the wooden floors with a golden glow — but now it touched a home that had grown fuller, louder, richer. A home that had learned the rhythm of family.Sienna woke slowly, her body warm beneath the sheets, her mind drifting in that quiet space between sleep and waking. She blinked against the soft light and turned her head.Luca was already awake.He lay on his side, propped up on one elbow, watching the small figure curled between them. Their daughter — now toddling, curious, endlessly expressive — slept with her cheek pressed against Luca’s chest, her tiny hand fisted in the fabric of his shirt. Her dark curls were a wild halo around her face, her breaths
The late‑afternoon light drifted lazily through the Menton house, warm and golden, settling across the wooden floors like a soft blanket. The sea outside shimmered in the distance, calm and endless, its rhythm a steady heartbeat beneath the quiet of the home. Sienna stood by the open balcony doors, swaying gently with her daughter in her arms, the baby’s tiny fingers curled around the fabric of her shirt.It had been two weeks since they returned from the hospital. Two weeks of sleepless nights and soft mornings. Two weeks of learning the shape of their new life. Two weeks of falling in love with someone so small she fit perfectly in the crook of Sienna’s elbow.Luca appeared behind her, his footsteps soft, his presence warm. He wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as he looked down at their daughter.
The house was finally quiet.It was the kind of quiet that only came in the soft hours of the evening, when the sun had dipped low behind the Menton hills and the sea outside the windows had settled into a gentle, rhythmic hush. Their daughter slept in the bassinet beside the sofa, wrapped in a pale blanket, her tiny breaths steady and warm. The living room glowed with the soft amber light of a single lamp, casting long shadows across the walls.Sienna sat curled into the corner of the sofa, her legs tucked beneath her, her body still aching in ways she hadn’t known were possible. Luca sat beside her, one arm draped along the back of the sofa, the other resting lightly on her thigh, his thumb tracing slow, absent‑minded circles.It had been three days since they brought their daughter home.
The world felt impossibly small in the quiet hours before dawn, the Menton house wrapped in a hush so complete it felt sacred. Sienna lay in the hospital bed, exhausted and trembling, her hair damp against her forehead, her body still humming with the shock of what it had just done. The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of a lamp and the faint spill of early morning light through the blinds.Luca sat beside her, his hand wrapped around hers, his thumb brushing slow circles over her knuckles. His eyes were red, his hair a mess, his shirt wrinkled from hours of pacing and worrying and refusing to leave her side.But he was smiling a soft, stunned, reverent smile. Sienna followed his gaze to the small bassinet beside the bed where their baby lay. Their daughter.Tiny, perfect, wrapped in a pale blanket, her little chest r
The first vacation after moving into the Menton home came sooner than Sienna expected. Luca had insisted they needed a break — “a real one, not the kind where you pretend to relax while secretly reorganising the pantry,” he’d said — and the others had agreed with suspicious enthusiasm. It wasn’t until the group chat exploded with packing lists, chaotic suggestions, and Matteo’s insistence that he needed to bring a snorkel “just in case,” that Sienna realised this wasn’t going to be a quiet getaway.It was going to be all of them.Together.Their first holiday as a chosen family.They drove along the coast in two cars, the sea glittering beside them like a sheet of blue glass. Sienna sat in the passenger seat of Luca’s car, her hand
The morning of the move‑in dawned bright and warm, the kind of Mediterranean morning that made the air shimmer above the stone paths of the Moretti estate. Sienna stood on the balcony of the Monaco penthouse, watching the removal vans pull up below, her hands wrapped around a mug of ginger tea. She didn’t even like ginger tea, but Emilia had insisted it helped with nausea, and Luca had insisted she drink it “just in case.”She wasn’t even nauseous.But she was pregnant, and apparently that meant she wasn’t allowed to do anything anymore.She heard footsteps behind her and didn’t need to turn to know it was Luca. His hands slid around her waist, warm and protective, his chin resting on her shoulder.“Don’t lift anything today,” he murmured.







