The morning sun cut through the smog of the city, casting long, sharp slats of light across the breakfast nook. The smell of freshly brewed espresso and toasted sourdough filled the air, a domestic scene that felt jarringly normal to Sienna. She sat at the marble island, her fingers gripping a ceramic mug so tightly her knuckles were white.
Beneath her oversized cashmere sweater and thick leggings, the silk slip clung to her skin. It was a thin, shimmering barrier, a secret mark of ownership that made her feel exposed even though she was fully dressed. Every time she shifted in her seat, the fabric slid against her thighs, reminding her of the weight of Leo’s body and the way he had filled her the night before.
"Sienna, darling, you're barely touching your eggs," their mother, Elena, rem
