Chapter 3 - SIENNA MILLER
Julian did not sleep that night.
Arthur’s men did not hold him in a cellar.
That would have been easier.
Instead, they left him inside his own mansion.
Two men remained outside.
One at the rear.
One near the gate.
No one threatened him.
No one told him when he could leave.
The silence did the work.
Sienna sat on the edge of the living-room sofa.
Her heels were gone.
Her confidence with them.
Julian stood near the fireplace.
“You knew.”
She looked at him.
“Knew what?”
“Arthur’s trap.”
“No.”
“The Ferryman wanted Clara.”
Sienna said nothing.
Julian crossed the room.
“What does that mean?”
“You heard a broken recording.”
“I heard your voice.”
She looked down.
That was confession enough.
Julian’s face tightened.
“You told me we were leaving.”
“We were.”
“You told me once we reached the river, we’d be free.”
“We would have been.”
“Clara was part of the plan?”
Sienna looked at him.
“You had already decided to leave her.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No.”
Her voice sharpened.
“It isn’t.”
Julian stared.
For months he had built Sienna into an escape.
From Arthur’s shadow.
From Clara’s expectations.
From a marriage that had slowly become a room where Julian felt like a guest in someone else’s family.
Sienna made him feel chosen.
Now he realized she might have chosen him for a reason.
“Who are you?”
Sienna laughed quietly.
“You know who I am.”
“No.”
Julian moved closer.
“I know the woman who met me at Bellmore’s bar six months ago.”
“You approached me.”
“Because you wanted me to.”
Her expression changed.
Julian continued.
“You always sat alone on Thursdays.”
Sienna looked toward the window.
He finally saw it.
Pattern.
Not romance.
Positioning.
“Who sent you?”
“No one.”
“Stop.”
“My father is dead.”
Julian frowned.
“What does your father have to do with this?”
She looked at him.
“Everything.”
Her real surname was not Miller.
Not originally.
Her father had been Dominic Sorrento.
A mid-level boss from a family Arthur destroyed seventeen years earlier.
Julian knew the story.
Everyone did.
The Sorrento war ended fast.
Three warehouses burned.
Two senior men vanished.
Dominic Sorrento disappeared last.
Arthur was blamed.
Nobody found the body.
Julian stared at Sienna.
“You’re Sorrento.”
“Yes.”
“Arthur killed your father.”
Sienna’s expression hardened.
“That’s what I grew up believing.”
“What changed?”
“Someone found me.”
“Who?”
She smiled bitterly.
“The Ferryman.”
Julian stepped back.
“When?”
“Two years ago.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That my father was not killed by Arthur.”
Julian waited.
“He was taken.”
The word entered the room.
Taken.
Like Gabriel Vance.
Like the people who disappeared between families.
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“Alive?”
“He was for at least seven years after everyone thought he died.”
Julian’s face tightened.
“And you believed this stranger?”
“He showed me something.”
“What?”
“My father’s silver lighter.”
Julian knew the significance.
Sienna carried a matching lighter sometimes.
She said it belonged to her mother.
“What did he want?”
Sienna looked away.
“Access.”
“To Arthur?”
“To Clara.”
Julian’s jaw tightened.
“Why?”
“I wasn’t told.”
“And you agreed.”
“I wanted answers.”
“So you slept with me.”
Sienna looked at him.
“At first because I needed you.”
Julian absorbed it.
“And after?”
Her voice softened.
“That became complicated.”
He almost laughed.
“You love me?”
“I don’t know.”
“Convenient.”
“You married Clara because she was Arthur Vance’s daughter.”
Julian turned sharply.
Sienna continued.
“Don’t look offended. We both entered relationships carrying reasons we didn’t say out loud.”
Julian’s hand tightened.
He had not married Clara solely for Arthur.
He had loved her.
Maybe still did.
But when they met, being accepted by Arthur Vance meant something.
Doors opened.
Men listened.
Julian’s small family name became important.
He told himself that ambition did not contaminate love.
Perhaps it had.
Sienna stood.
“You hit her tonight.”
Julian looked away.
“That has nothing to do with you.”
“It tells me exactly who you become when control leaves your hands.”
He turned.
“You manipulated me for six months.”
“Yes.”
“You planned to use my wife.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re judging me?”
“Yes.”
Her answer stopped him.
Sienna did not excuse herself.
That made Julian hate her more.
A knock sounded at the front door.
Three slow knocks.
Both froze.
Arthur’s men outside would not knock.
Julian looked toward the window.
The guard at the gate was gone.
Not lying down.
Gone.
Sienna whispered, “Julian.”
Another knock.
Three.
Then two.
Her face emptied.
“What?”
“That’s the signal.”
“What signal?”
“The Ferryman.”
Julian moved toward the door.
Sienna grabbed him.
“No.”
“You wanted answers.”
“Not like this.”
Julian pulled free.
He opened the door.
No one stood there.
Rain.
Empty driveway.
On the porch lay a small wooden box.
Inside was no message.
No paper.
Only a brass ferry token.
Old.
Blackened at the edges.
Sienna picked it up.
Her hands shook.
Julian looked toward the road.
“Your Ferryman was here.”
Sienna turned the token over.
On the back was a symbol.
A V inside a circle.
Julian recognized it.
Vance.
But not Arthur’s current crest.
An older one.
He had seen it in photographs from Arthur’s youth.
Below the symbol, someone had scratched one word into the metal.
GABRIEL.
Julian looked at Sienna.
“Arthur’s dead brother?”
May you like
She whispered:
“Apparently not.”
