The elevator took forever to arrive.
Sienna stood in the hallway, both suitcases gripped tight in her hands, staring at the brushed steel doors like they might save her if she concentrated hard enough. Behind her, she could hear Alessandro moving around in the penthouse. The clink of glass—probably pouring himself a scotch. He always did that when things didn't go his way. Two fingers of Macallan, neat, like the solution to every problem came aged in a barrel.
The elevator dinged.
"Sienna, wait."
She closed her eyes. Took a breath. Told herself not to turn around.
She turned around.
Alessandro stood in his doorway, drink in hand, leaning against the frame with that casual elegance he'd perfected over thirty-four years of getting exactly what he wanted. His tie was loosened now, top button undone. He looked like a cologne ad. Troubled billionaire seeks mistress willing to accept crumbs. No reasonable offers refused.
"Come back inside," he said. Not quite a command, not quite a request. That middle ground he'd mastered where everything sounded like a suggestion but felt like an order. "Let's talk about this like rational people."
"We did talk. I'm done talking." Sienna hit the elevator button again even though it had already arrived, doors open and waiting.
"You're overreacting." He took a sip of scotch, and she wanted to throw something at him. Preferably something heavy. "I understand you're upset, but you're not thinking clearly. Come inside. Have a drink. We'll work this out like we always do."
Like we always do. As if the problem was a simple misunderstanding instead of three years of her life spent waiting for him to choose her. Three years of cancelled plans because Vanessa needed him at some function. Three years of holidays spent alone because he was with his "real" family. Three years of loving a man who loved her back just not enough.
"There's nothing to work out." Sienna stepped into the elevator, dragged her suitcases in after her. "You're getting married in June. To someone else. That's pretty clear-cut, Alessandro."
"It's not that simple." He moved toward the elevator, and for a second she thought he might actually follow her in, might actually chase her. But he stopped just outside, one hand on the door frame. "You knew what this was from the beginning. I never lied to you about Vanessa, about the expectations, about—"
"About keeping me hidden like I'm something shameful?" The words came out sharper than she'd intended, echoing in the elevator's small space. "You're right. You never lied. You were very upfront about treating me like a secret."
His jaw tightened. There—that flash of anger he usually kept buried under all that smooth control. "That's not fair. I gave you everything. This apartment building? I own it. You could've stayed here rent-free. I offered to buy you a place of your own. I've supported—"
"I didn't ask you to support me." Sienna's hand hovered over the door-close button. "I asked you to love me enough to actually be with me. Turns out those are different things."
"I do love you." He said it quietly, and God help her, she almost believed him. Almost. "What we have is real, Sienna. What I have with Vanessa is just... it's an arrangement. A business merger dressed up in a wedding. You're the one I come home to. You're the one I—"
"I'm the one you hide." She pressed the button. The doors started to close. "There's a difference between being someone's home and being their hotel."
Alessandro's hand shot out, stopped the doors from closing. He stepped partially into the elevator, close enough now that she could smell his cologne mixing with the scotch on his breath. Close enough to remember every night she'd spent in his arms believing his promises.
"Don't do this," he said, and for the first time tonight, he sounded genuinely worried. Not panicked—Alessandro Castellano didn't panic—but concerned in that controlled way he approached everything. "You're upset. I get it. But walking out isn't going to solve anything. We can figure this out. I can talk to Vanessa, see if we can delay—"
"Delay what? The wedding?" Sienna laughed, and it came out bitter. Broken. "So you can string me along for another three years? Another five? How long exactly should I wait for you to decide I'm worth more than a secret?"
"It's not about worth." His free hand reached for her face, and she jerked back. The hurt that flashed across his features almost made her feel guilty. Almost. "You know how complicated this is. My family, the business, the—"
"I don't care." The words felt good. Honest. "I don't care about your family or your business or whatever excuse you're about to give me. I care that I'm twenty-eight years old and I've spent three years of my life loving a man who won't even admit I exist to his own mother."
She reached into her purse—the Chanel one he'd bought her for their second anniversary because apparently expensive leather was easier than commitment—and pulled out her keys. His penthouse key on a Tiffany keychain. The spare to his car she'd never been allowed to drive in public. The key to his office that she'd used exactly once, late at night when the building was empty and there was no risk of anyone seeing her.
She held them out.
Alessandro stared at the keys like she was offering him a live grenade. "Sienna—"
"And these." She pulled out the credit cards. Black AmEx. Platinum Visa. All with her name embossed on them, all connected to his accounts. "I don't want them."
"Don't be ridiculous. How will you—"
"I managed before I met you. I'll manage after." She pressed the keys and cards into his palm, ignored the way his fingers tried to close around hers. "I don't want your money, Alessandro. I never did. I wanted you. Just... you. Apparently that was too much to ask."
He stood there holding the keys and cards, looking at them like he couldn't quite process what was happening. "You're serious."
"Yes."
"You're actually leaving."
"Yes."
"Over a wedding that doesn't even mean anything to me?"
Sienna felt something inside her chest crack. "If it doesn't mean anything, cancel it. Choose me instead."
The silence stretched between them like a chasm. She watched him struggle with it, saw the war happening behind his eyes—duty versus desire, obligation versus love, the life he was supposed to want versus the woman he actually wanted.
She already knew which side would win. Had known for three years, really. But some stupid, hopeful part of her had needed to ask. Needed to give him one last chance to prove her wrong.
"You know I can't do that," he said finally, quietly.
And there it was. The truth he'd been dancing around for three years, served up plain and simple in a hallway at eleven o'clock on a Tuesday night.
"Then we're done." Sienna pressed the door-close button again.
This time, Alessandro stepped back. Let the doors start their slow slide shut. But his eyes never left hers, and in them she saw something she'd never seen before—actual fear that she might not be bluffing this time.
"You'll be back," he said, and just like that, the fear was gone, buried under that infuriating confidence. "You always come back, Sienna. You'll spend a few days at Jade's, realize how much you miss this, miss us, and you'll be back. You know you will."
The doors were almost closed now, just a sliver of space left between them.
"I won't," she said.
"You will." His smile was small, sad, certain. "Because you love me. And I love you. And that's enough. It's always been enough."
The doors closed on his face.
Sienna's knees went weak. She slumped against the elevator wall, suitcases forgotten on the floor, and pressed her palms against her eyes. Don't cry. Don't you dare cry. You made it out. You actually made it out. Don't fall apart now.
The elevator descended. Sixty-seven. Sixty-six. Sixty-five.
She'd really done it. After three years of almost-leaving and maybe-leaving and threatening-to-leave, she'd actually walked out. With her suitcases. With her dignity. Without his keys or his credit cards or any of the expensive things he'd used to make her feel like the cage was comfortable enough to stay in forever.
Forty-two. Forty-one. Forty.
The tears came anyway. Silent at first, then not so silent, until she was full-on crying in an elevator at the kind of building where cameras caught everything and someone was definitely going to see this footage and know that Alessandro Castellano's secret just fell completely apart.
She didn't care.
Let them see. Let them know. Let the whole world know she'd been stupid enough to love a man who'd never love her enough.
Twenty-three. Twenty-two. Twenty-one.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
Probably Alessandro. Probably some message about how she was being irrational, how they could work this out, how he'd find a way to delay the wedding just long enough to convince her to stay hidden a little while longer.
She almost didn't check it. Almost threw her phone against the elevator wall just to watch something break the way she was breaking.
But she looked.
The message wasn't from Alessandro.
Jade: "Emergency wine and ice cream standing by. Also I may have invited Marcus and Yuki over because you're going to need a full support team and Marcus bought the expensive chocolate. Door's open. We love you. Get your ass over here."
A laugh bubbled up through Sienna's tears. Wet and messy and real.
Below that, another message:
Jade: "Also I know you're probably crying in an elevator right now because you're predictable like that, but I need you to know something important: You just did the bravest fucking thing I've ever seen you do. I'm so proud of you I could cry. But I won't because one of us needs to be the strong one when you get here. Drive safe. Love you."
And below that, one more:
Jade: "PS - He's going to regret this. They always do. You're a goddamn catch and he's an idiot in an expensive suit. His loss."
Sienna wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, mascara smearing, and typed back with shaking fingers:
"On my way. Save me the good ice cream."
The elevator hit the ground floor. The doors opened onto the marble lobby where she'd walked in three years ago with stars in her eyes and hope in her heart, back when Alessandro Castellano had looked at her like she was the only woman in the world instead of just the only woman in his bed.
She picked up her suitcases.
Walked past the doorman who'd seen her come and go a thousand times but never once acknowledged her as anything more than a guest.
Pushed through the revolving doors into the New York night.
And didn't look back.
Behind her, sixty-seven floors up, Alessandro stood at his window with his scotch and his certainty that she'd be back. That she always came back. That love was enough to keep someone in a cage if you just made the cage comfortable enough.
He was wrong.
But he wouldn't know that until it was far, far too late.
Sienna hailed a cab, threw her suitcases in the trunk, and gave the driver Jade's address in Brooklyn. As the city lights blurred past the window, she felt her phone buzz again.
This time it was from a number she didn't recognize:
"Is this Sienna Morales? We met briefly at the Hartwell Foundation gala last month. This is Dante Moretti. I was wondering if you might be free for coffee sometime this week? No pressure. Just enjoyed our conversation and thought you might like to continue it over something stronger than champagne."
Sienna stared at the message.
Dante Moretti. She remembered him—charming, successful, the tech CEO who'd actually asked her questions about herself instead of just talking at her. Who'd gotten her business card when she'd mentioned she was looking to break into marketing consulting. Who'd looked at her like she was interesting instead of just beautiful.
Who definitely, definitely wasn't Alessandro Castellano.
She typed back:
"Coffee sounds perfect. Thursday at 2?"
His response came immediately:
"It's a date. Well, not a date-date. Unless you want it to be. Sorry, that was smooth. I'm better in person, I promise. Thursday at 2. I'll send you the address."
Sienna smiled.
A real smile this time. Small, tentative, fragile as new glass.
But real.
The cab turned onto Jade's street, and through the window of her friend's third-floor apartment, Sienna could see the lights on, could imagine Jade and Marcus and Yuki already setting up the emergency breakup kit—wine, ice cream, chocolate, tissues, and unconditional love.
Her phone lit up one last time.
Alessandro: "I know you're upset. Take your time. I'll be here when you're ready to come home."
Sienna deleted the message without responding.
She was already home.
She just didn't know it yet.