Pretty Plaything: A Dark Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance by Evelyn Ferras

Author:Evelyn Ferras [Ferras, Evelyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance
Publisher: Evelyn Ferras
Published: 2021-02-22T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 27

I KEEP GLANCING AT the drawer, even though I’m in the middle of work. But I put Sienna’s notebook in there. Her diary, or whatever the hell it is.

I shouldn’t have even taken it or kept it, but for some reason, I can’t get myself to throw it away or give it to her.

I thought that fucking Sienna would get her out of my head.

I thought it would satisfy my curiosity.

It satisfied me all right, but I want to know more about her.

I want to know what she hides behind those dark eyes, because I know she’s hiding something. Even when she’s crying out from pleasure, something lurks there.

I need to know what it is.

And her hidden little notebook just might be the thing I need to figure out all her secrets.

I glance at my laptop. The bug I slipped into Santiago’s suit jacket isn’t just a listening device; it’s a tracker too.

But it hasn’t moved at all. It’s questionable if Santiago will ever put the jacket on or go somewhere.

I have to be patient. I’ve always known this wasn’t going to be easy.

Sienna.

I groan.

After I open the drawer, I snatch the notebook. When I open the first page, a sketch of another dress greets me.

She really likes designing clothes, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen her wearing one of her designs. A few more pages are filled with sketches.

She even drew a unicorn.

I shake my head.

What am I even doing? It’s just a silly thing Sienna played with when she was a kid. I don’t know why she kept it under the floorboard.

Unless her parents threatened to toss it away because she’s a grown woman now, and she preferred to keep it.

I flip through the pages until I find a list.

The title at the top says: my imperfections.

My frown deepens as I read through them. What is she even talking about? Her body is perfect. It probably always has been.

On the next page, there’s another list.

She kept a record of everything she ate that day.

And then the next.

And so on.

I keep going until I reach the end. There’s a drawing of a heart with a knife going straight through it.

Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly.

I’ll never be pretty enough.

Not enough.

Never enough.

I stare at the sentences Sienna wrote over and over again. How old was she when she wrote that? Does she still think it?

I don’t know why, but it makes me angry.

Someone must’ve made her feel this way.

I want their blood.

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