Todos los capítulos de Ruined by Desire: Capítulo 101 - Capítulo 110

The flight back to Monaco passed in a blur of soft cabin lights and quiet thoughts, the kind that drifted in and out of focus without ever settling fully, and Sienna spent most of the journey staring out the window at the endless stretch of clouds beneath them. London still clung to her skin like a second atmosphere, its rhythm lingering in her bones, its softness and noise and unexpected comfort refusing to fade even as the plane carried them farther away. Luca sat beside her, reading something on his tablet, though she could tell he wasn’t absorbing any of it. His hand rested on her thigh, warm and steady, but even that familiar touch felt slightly different now, as if the shift between cities had unsettled something neither of them had words for yet.When the plane descended toward the glittering coastline, Monaco appeared beneath them like a postcard — perfect, polished, impossibly bright — and Sienna felt a strange tightening in

 1660 words The morning after Sienna returned to the penthouse, Monaco woke with its usual brightness, sunlight spilling across the harbor in shimmering gold. The city looked unchanged, elegant and polished and impossibly self‑assured, but something in the air felt different. Or maybe it was simply that she felt different. She woke with Luca’s arm draped over her waist, his breath warm against the back of her neck, and for a moment she let herself sink into the quiet, pretending the world outside the bedroom didn’t exist. But the world did exist, and it found them quickly. Her phone buzzed first — a message from Theo, then another from Emilia, then three missed calls from her mother, then a notification from a journalist she didn’t recognize requesting a co

Sienna had expected the interview to feel intimidating. She had expected nerves, pressure, maybe even the faint sense of being an imposter sitting across from a journalist whose publication had profiled some of the most influential creatives in the world. What she had not expected was the quiet, steady certainty that settled over her as she walked into the sunlit café overlooking the Monaco harbor, her camera bag slung over her shoulder and her hair pulled back in a loose twist that felt effortlessly like herself. The journalist, a woman named Elise Moreau, stood when she approached, offering a warm smile and a handshake that was firm without being overbearing. “Sienna Vale,” she said, as though tasting the name. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you.” Sienna returned the smile. “Thank you for having me.” They sat at a small table near the window, the sea stretching out in s

Sienna had not thought about Viviana in weeks. Not consciously, at least. The chaos of London, the return to Monaco, the questions from friends and journalists, the shift in her career, the quiet solidity growing between her and Luca — all of it had pushed Viviana to the edges of her mind. She had become a distant figure, a shadow from an earlier chapter of their story, someone whose disapproval had once mattered far more than it should have. But Monaco had a way of circling back to unfinished business. It began with a message. Not from Viviana directly. From someone Sienna barely knew — a stylist she had met once at a gallery opening, a woman named Marielle who had complimented her shoes and then disappeared into the crowd. The message arrived mid‑morning, while Sienna was reviewing edits for a new project, her laptop open on the kitchen island and a half‑finished cup of tea cooling besi

Matteo Ricci prided himself on being observant. It was a skill he’d perfected long before he became one of Monaco’s most sought‑after consultants — long before the tailored suits, the private invitations, the effortless charm that made him welcome in every room. He had always been able to read people, especially Luca. Years of friendship had taught him to recognize every shift in Luca’s mood, every flicker of tension, every unspoken thought. Which was why, after spending less than ten minutes with Luca and Sienna that afternoon, Matteo realized something was off. Not wrong or strained. Just… different. They were too careful around each other. Too soft. Too aware. They moved like two people trying not to disturb something delicate, even though their relationship had never been delicate. It had been intense, chaotic, magnetic — but never fragile. Matteo watched them