She jumped in shock on seeing her father seated so calmly on the sofa, taking up presence and space like the authoritative man that he was.
"How did you get in, Pa?" He was backing her, his eyes on the scenery beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, sipping from the mug of coffee that he must have fetched himself. Sienna crept forward, unsure of herself. Major's house was extremely protected—bodyguards, firewalls of codes, a surveillance AI system. For anyone to get in, an appointment had to be booked. And if her dad had booked an appointment, Major would have told her.
"Where is Major?" he asked placidly.
"He's at his office. Afterwards, he'll go to the set."
He turned around, craning his neck toward her. "Come, sit." He patted the space beside him.
She reluctantly moved her legs across the space and plopped onto the seat beside him.
"Dad, I know what you want to say." She spoke up before he could move his lips.
He squeezed her knees.
"That blog post was a nasty rumor. Some crazed fan of Major, he—"
"Photos never lie, my child," he interrupted softly.
She found it humorous that she was twenty-five years old, yet he still saw her as his child.
She breathed in the moist vapor coiling up from the mug she was holding. "Dad, with the advent of AI, a lot of things can be faked."
"You're still in denial."
That stung. She looked up from the mug of coffee and to the pleasant view of Venice in front of her. The recall of Major's huge smile when that woman fell into his arms would forever stain her mind.
"Dad, why are you here?" She looked at the side of his face. Well-sculpted, clean-shaven. He might be an old man, but he knew how to take care of himself. Breathtakingly handsome.
Silence. Then he looked at her, the morning rays of sun lighting his green-colored orbs.
"I want you to process what it is you're feeling right now, and fuel it into rage, and channel that rage to take him down."
"Why are you after the Knights so much, Dad?"
"They are expanding rapidly—their cartel, their company chains, their drug syndicate. Very soon, they'll encroach on my land and snuff it out."
Sienna couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Dad…"
His grip on her knees tightened, and when he snapped his head toward her, she could see that his green eyes had turned to grey.
"I didn't come this far by underestimating people. Not the Knights, the Bordinis, the Gonzales, or the Carbones. Humans are greedy, selfish people. If you can have it all, why can't you take it all? That's the mentality of those in power."
Sienna worriedly looked up at the cameras embedded in the ceiling.
Her father followed her gaze. "Don't worry. I have all that under control. It's been hacked into."
Sienna leaned forward to drop her mug on the side table. All traces of mirth were gone from her voice. "I didn't know that the Bacuzzi's were so much of a threat."
His voice became weak and cracked with emotion. "Who do you think killed your mother?"
Her eyes widened in shock. "She died while giving birth to me."
His face went paler as his gaze snapped back to the morning sky. "They killed her and used their son as a pact offering. This marriage—that's what it was. The betrothal."
Her voice became hard. "I've always wondered, you know. It's the 21st century. Who does a freaking betrothal in the 21st century? And what did they want to achieve by the marriage, huh? Would it have brought Mom back from the dead?"
"He is their only son. By being his wife, you have a huge chunk of inheritance in their legacy."
She shook her head at him, dumbfounded, tears spilling from her eyes. "They deceived you, Dad. You are a Ricci. You can't let them use you. They killed your wife, and as a peace offering, they own me too?"
"I thought they would at least take care of you."
She scoffed. "Well, look at how that panned out."
"We can't let them continue to use our heads any longer."
Her voice took on a shade of pain. "We won't."
He watched her expression closely and liked the loathe that had settled there. A smile curled his lips.
"What exactly do you want me to do, Pa?"
"Camouflage. Get in. Know everything."
"He has walls, Pa. Tall, made of brick. Hard like stone."
"You don't have to go through him. He has a friend."
"Reese." They said it at the same time. Her hands involuntarily clutched her stomach. Ricci gravely nodded.
Sienna cleared her throat. "I'm so sorry. I wasn't able to offer you anything."
"It's okay." He stood up. She followed. "Don't let him see that whatever he does gets to you. He'll likely want to punish you to get to me."
Her father softly rubbed her exposed arms as they walked toward the elevator doors. She swallowed the lump that lay heavy in her throat. "I think he was hiding it—the cheating. But now that I know, I don't think he'll want to hide it anymore. He'll likely rub it in my face."
This time, Ricci was the one to laugh out loud. "Cunning, stubborn, messy—but one thing Major isn't is petty. He can't do that. He won't. He hates me, but even he knows that hurting you means he's playing with fire, and I'd burn him to the ground."
She fell into his arms. "Thank you, Pa. You made me feel so much better."
Ricci inhaled her hair, her cucumber-and-dew-smelling shampoo hitting him with the hardest nostalgia. Her mother. His wife. That combination was her favorite scent. Her death was what started his villain arc.
He let Sienna stay in his hold as long as she wanted.
Then reluctantly, he had to let her go. "I do not want Major to know that I was here." He looked somber, almost fragile. The elevator doors dinged open, and he faked a smile as the door slowly closed. When it did, the smile spread across his face like a plague. Sick. Evil.
His phone rang. A single vibration that buzzed through the tight silence. He answered.
"It's being done. It was very easy."
Pause. He listened to the voice on the other end. The hallway hummed with artificial quiet. The doors dinged open.
I told you," he said as he stepped out, striding past the fountain-lit marble atrium of the building. "She's my daughter. It would be easy to manipulate her…"
He chuckled low, dark. "oh, that? I used her mother, told her they killed her. Worked like magic." A sick laugh echoed into the phone. "I've taught her how to be empathetic and when to be ruthless, and I believe I've resurrected the villain out of her…"
Slam. The car doors. The engine revved smoothly. He drove his Bugatti out of the carport, left hand on the wheel, right hand holding his phone.
"And as for her mother?" He scoffed, The wind caught his hair as the speed climbed. Venice blurred past the windows like a dream being erased. "She would never know…"