Page 71 of Captured Obsession

My head whips in the direction of the voice, and my heart stalls.

“F-Father.”

And, suddenly, this make-believe world, and the subtle transition back into my life I was hoping for is quickly swept out from beneath my feet.

29

SIENNA

Saying I’m uncomfortable would be an understatement as I sit across from my father with Nikolai beside me at a table in my father’s favorite restaurant only two blocks from my apartment.

My father’s gaze bounces between Nikolai and me. His light-brown hair seems to have a few more grays in it since I last saw him, and his brown eyes are certainly unimpressed.

“Were you really not going to tell me you were back in New York?” my father asks, disappointed and probably hurt.

“It’s not like that,” I say in a small voice, never wanting to let him down.

“No?” His gaze snaps to Nikolai, who has remained silent the entire time. “And who is this? Your rebound?”

“Yes,” Nikolai says at the same time that I say, “No.”

We look at one another.

My father clicks his tongue as he waves the server over to pour more wine. It’s unlike him to be indulgent when it comes to alcohol. He might have a glass or two, but he threw back the first like it was water.

I take a sip of mine, the fingers of my free hand fidgeting under the table. Nikolai’s hand slides over mine, offering me a small amount of comfort.

How am I supposed to explain any of this?

I’ve always idolized my father. He’s permitted me to pursue what my heart desires, as long as I don’t tarnish the Falcone name. The only thing he requires of me is that I marry and produce an heir since I have no siblings.

No pressure.

My father takes another sip of his wine, and I follow his lead. Nikolai’s vodka goes untouched. Fuck, I wonder what’s running through his mind. But didn’t I tell myself I would stop caring about what everyone else thinks? And as soon as I remind myself of that, I feel the pressure and expectation slide off my shoulders, and I take what feels like my first full breath since seeing my father out on the street.

“What happened between you and Michael?” my father asks, uncaring of Nikolai’s presence. He probably thinks Nikolai is one of my boytoy boyfriends I used to introduce him to when I was younger.

“Michael cheated on me, Dad,” I say matter-of-factly.

“Yes, I saw the articles.”

“And he’s apparently engaged, and she’s pregnant,” I add.

“Yes, I also saw that,” he says, stroking his moustache, clearly annoyed. “You didn’t answer any of my calls. I thought you’d fallen off the face of the earth. And then—” He cuts himself off, realizing he’s raising his voice. He looks over his shoulder to ensure he didn’t disrupt anyone’s meals. This is the most unnerved I’ve seen him in some time. “I’ve been worried, Sienna,” he says in a softer tone.

My heart sinks as I hear the sincerity in his voice.

“You told me you were going to London to pursue more acting roles and then … nothing. I even called Michael to see if he heard from you, and?—”

“You what?” My voice squeaks, and Nikolai’s hand tightens on mine.

“Excuse me,” the server says, setting a tray of appetizers in the middle of the table, none of which I have an appetite for.

I take another sip of the wine, needing it more than I realized.

“I no longer speak to Michael,” I say curtly as I place my glass back down.

“As I would expect. Why do you think I went to such lengths to ensure he might find it more difficult to get roles?”