

Twisted Emotions

 

Chapter 3

...SIENNA...

I hated him.

Truly.

Deeply.

Violently.

Which was unfortunate, considering Nikolai Arden had somehow become the only thing my brain wanted to think about for the past forty-eight hours.

“You’re glaring at your laptop like it personally offended you.”

I looked up from my desk to find Jules leaning against the doorway of my office with an iced coffee in one hand and entirely too much amusement on her face.

“I’m working,” I said.

“You opened the same email three times in ten minutes.”

Traitor.

Jules walked inside before I could defend myself, setting the coffee down beside my laptop. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my Manhattan office, illuminating the scattered wedding sketches, contracts, and floral samples covering nearly every available surface.

Normally, being back at work relaxed me.

Today, not even color-coded schedules could save me from my irritation.

Because every time I closed my eyes, I saw cold gray eyes and heard a deep voice murmuring:

Dangerous habit, Piccola.

I still didn’t know what the nickname meant.

I also absolutely refused to care.

“You’re thinking about him again,” Jules sang.

I nearly choked on air. “Excuse me?”

“Nikolai Arden.” She grinned. “Tall, terrifying, emotionally unavailable billionaire. Rings any bells?”

“No.”

“You literally just rolled your eyes.”

“That’s because he’s annoying.”

“Mm-hm.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Whose side are you on?”

“The side of entertainment.” Jules dropped dramatically into the chair across from my desk. “Do you have any idea how funny it was watching you insult a man who could probably buy half of Manhattan without blinking?”

“He started it.”

“You spilled champagne on him.”

“By accident.”

“And then called him arrogant.”

“Because he is arrogant.”

Jules laughed so hard she nearly spilled her coffee.

I glared at her.

Honestly, friendship was a scam.

“You know,” she said once she recovered slightly, “Josh told me Alex and Nikolai almost started verbally fighting after you left.”

That caught my attention immediately.

“What?”

“Apparently Alex made one comment about you distracting Nikolai and—” she lifted a shoulder innocently, “—things escalated.”

My stomach tightened unexpectedly.

Nikolai and Alex Volkov were infamous in New York business circles. Their rivalry had fueled headlines for years, though neither man publicly acknowledged it.

Cold war billionaire edition.

“You’re lying,” I said weakly.

“I swear.” Jules leaned forward, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “What exactly happened between you two?”

Nothing.

Technically.

A few insults.

A ruined suit.

Eye contact intense enough to qualify as psychological warfare.

Normal things.

“I met him for five minutes.”

“And yet he gave you a nickname.”

Heat crept annoyingly into my cheeks.

God, I hated that she noticed that.

“It probably means something insulting.”

Jules immediately pulled out her phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Translating.”

My eyes widened. “Jules—”

Too late.

A slow grin spread across her face.

“Oh, this is bad.”

Dread settled heavily in my stomach. “What?”

She looked up innocently.

“It means little one.”

Silence.

Absolutely not.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Actually,” she corrected, “it’s disgustingly flirty.”

I buried my face in my hands.

Of course he’d choose an Italian nickname that sounded attractive instead of horrifying like a normal emotionally unavailable billionaire.

“Why are you panicking?” Jules asked.

“I’m not panicking.”

“You look panicked.”

“I’m irritated.”

“Sure.”

I pointed toward the door. “Leave my office.”

She stood with zero urgency whatsoever. “Just saying… the tension between you two was kind of insane.”

“There is no tension.”

Jules gave me a look filled with profound disbelief.

Then—

A knock interrupted us.

“Come in,” I called quickly, grateful for the distraction.

My assistant, Mia, stepped inside looking unusually pale.

“Sienna,” she said carefully, “there’s someone here asking for you.”

I frowned. “Who?”

Before she could answer, a deep familiar voice spoke from the doorway.

“You’re difficult to get ahold of.”

Every muscle in my body froze.

Nikolai Arden stood outside my office in an immaculate charcoal suit, one hand tucked casually into his pocket as his cold gray eyes settled directly on me.

The room suddenly felt too small.

Too warm.

Jules looked between us with the expression of someone witnessing live entertainment.

“You,” I said blankly.

A faint smirk touched Nikolai’s mouth.

The sight was so unexpected it almost distracted me from the fact that the most terrifying CEO in New York was standing inside my office uninvited.

Almost.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded.

Instead of answering immediately, his gaze swept slowly across the room before returning to me.

Assessing.

Observing.

Memorizing.