The very first night Sienna left me standing in the foyer of my apartment with shattered hopes and a torn heart, I'd considered leaving and returning back to the hotel from which I came but I'd dismissed the idea along the way and proceeded to my room to cause nothing but havoc.

-I remembered that day like it was yesterday...

Me standing by the elevator, stock still, fists clenched, utterly devastated but hopeful that she would return; that the elevator would chim and she would come through those doors to me and cry in my arms and tell me it was all a misunderstanding.

Dry-mouthed with anxiety, I waited and waited but nothing happened, no elevators dinged, and no Sienna returned. She'd left me and I had walked back to my room with my mind replaying my moment of humiliation.

Quickly that humiliation turned into a murderous rage and the need to destroy something; anything clouded my reasoning.

So I fetched my iron bat and by the time I snapped out of my haze, my bedroom was in total shambles of glass shards and I stood in the middle, breathing harshly, face flush with hostility, eyes ablaze with savagery.

-I regretted it.

I shouldn't have stayed as well. I should've left. It would've been much better than enduring the torture that came along with stepping into my apartment every single day and having her scent welcome me.

You'd think by now that her presence would have evaporated into thin air but the maddening combination of roses and lilies still remained, washing over me.

It was late when I entered my apartment and it was quiet-quiet and suffocating empty and yet still somehow filled with her essence-it was almost as tho I could see her, feel her, nearly taste her, like she was here but at the same time far away.

I turned on the lights.

The chandelier at the top twinkled on, filling with light the large living space inoculated with so many made memories I wished I could rip out of my brain and burn in a fiery furnace.

My eyes trained to the deserted couch and one look at it made a ripple of desire swirl right through my gut.

We'd had sex here...

Couple of times when heading for the room seemed so much of a hassle, we would settle there, strip our clothes and-

I clenched my fists and I took a deep lungful of air.

Just then did Keith come running up to me.

"Welcome home, Mr. Larsen," he breathed in a rush. "Giuseppe prepared dinner. Shall I organize your table?"

Dinner.

Food.

I hadn't had that in days.

Then again my days had been filled with nothing but gloom and darkness and emptiness. I had no appetite.

"Not tonight." I declined, walking away and heading up to my bedroom.

Her body is lush, her scent is enchanting and the sounds of her mewls that fall unto my lips are too arousing.

I want more. She's like nectar, I can't get enough of her.

I kiss her again, harder. I can't see her face, the sun covers it but I know she is beautiful. She gasps into my mouth when I pinch her pert nipple. I part her lips and slide my tongue between them. She moans, she tastes like lilies.

Her warm arms wrap around my neck. She's perfect under me, she's been made for me.

I lower my head to her breast and take her into my mouth. She's sweet, too sweet. I suck and moan, tasting and teasing.

Her body arcs to mine and she whimpers in my ear. She wants more, I can tell. She's so responsive, so sweet.

I lift her knees and enter her with one push. She groans with pleasure. I rest my head on her shoulder and tell her I want her, I need her, I love...her.

She does the same.

"I love you."

"Don't ever leave me."

"You're mine."

I'm close. I bury my face deeper in her neck and nip her skin.

She wraps her legs around me and holds me tight.

I cum.

Bliss.

I collapse and roll off her to the side, breathing heavily.

"That was fun." She sighs in happiness, tracing her fingers down my spine. "But merely not enough."

My breathing stables, I'm hard again. I smile and turn to look at the faceless woman who has brought me so much satisfaction but when I turn she is no longer faceless, she's-

"Sienna!" I rasped, shooting bolt upright on my bed.

What the hell was that?

I blinked rapidly, looking around. My body felt restless and on fire. I immediately raised the sheets off my torso and I grimaced when I found the reason why.

Semen.

Aw, fuck.

I'd ejaculated while having a vivid erotic dream of my once-upon-a-time wife.

I let go of the sheets and fell right back on my bed, staring at the smoke alarm in my ceiling-disgusted, appalled, and most of all, confused.

Why her?

It was a question that kept pounding through my head all night; a question that left me utterly frustrated and fifty shades of fucked inside.

I cursed under my breath and swung an arm over my eyes.

Why did everything with her have to be so twisted?

Why couldn't I just fool around with her and discard her the same way I'd done with Shelly, or the girl before her? Why did I have to feel so much about this one?

I thought I could forget her. I'd tried. But it was clear now that no amount of denial could make me forget a girl like Sienna.

She was like a drug I was so shamelessly addicted to. Only for her had I ever felt this kind of desire and I despised it, almost as much as I despised her for turning my world upside down, for inciting this burning flame in the center of my being that made me desperate and needy and restless.

My alarm clock went off beside me, momentarily freeing my mind.

I looked over at my window and stared at the lead-gray sky. It looked like it was going to rain. Fitting.

I swung both my legs to the corner of my bed and sat up, groaning. My head hurt, my throat burned, my eyes ached. I placed a hand over my face and pressed my temples with my thumb and middle finger. It ached, everything ached without her.

She's gone, Tristan. Deal with it.

Right.

Yes.

Enough with this corny nonsense already.

I didn't need her.

And it would be a cold day in hell before I cower.

"Liar," my mind fought but I ignored it and rose from the bed.

The moment I did, blood rushed from my head to my feet and my world swayed.

Shit.

I held onto the wall to steady myself.

It took a moment for my vision to become stationary again. Once it did, I relieved myself from the wall and took slow strides to the bathroom.

In the mirror, I was a mess.

I held the sink to balance my unsteady legs. I was weak and emaciated and If miserable was a person, it would be me.

My beards were thick and fucking itchy, my eyes were red and weary. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd eaten or slept properly. Everything was spiraling out of control. I'd never felt this depressed, not even as a child, not even when Madeline...

An awful thought of her crossed my mind and made something repulsing swirl deep in my stomach.

There must be a sick part of her dead soul that was happy to see me in physical pain.

Shaking my head, l pushed the disgusting thoughts of her out of my head and fetched my shaving cream.

I wouldn't give any of them the satisfaction of seeing me fall apart any further.

I could fight this.

She made her choice Tristan, make yours and move on.

Something smelled good coming from the kitchen but I had no appetite for food.

As I walked down the final steps and turned in the direction of the foyer, Giuseppe ran out of the kitchen and intercepted me. "Good morning, Mr. Larsen, breakfast is ready."

"Not today, Giuseppe," I told him curtly, trying to sidestep him but he held both his hands out, blocking my path.

I stared at him, puzzled. "What are you doing?"

His face tightened with determination. "You did not have breakfast or dinner yesterday."

"That's because I was not opportune to." I retorted, taking a step forward.

"Pardon me for saying this but I think you are coming down with something, no? Your skin looks clammy and your eyes are weary. I believe you need to eat, sir."

"I am fine," I said dismissively.

"Mi oppo go. You are not."

"Giuseppe." I scowled, frowning but he was unfazed.

"Just a sandwich no?" He implored. "I will pack it up real quick, al più presto possibile."

I stared at him for a long moment and sighed, defeated. "Fine, I'll take the sandwich."

"Perfetto!"

He ran to the kitchen.

After declining lunch from Stefan for the third time this week and dismissing him since he wouldn't stop nagging me about my terrible withdrawal, I sat in my office, working through the documents piled on my desk, not caring if the air got hotter and oppressive by the passing minute or if it felt as though the walls of my office were closing in on me.

I remained there, burying myself inside work because it was my only escape from the nagging loneliness and acidic feeling of reality that burned into my chest whenever I returned home.

By the time I finished sorting out the second stack of documents on my desk, It was already evening and I was sweaty and dehydrated and for some reason, nauseous.

I leaned back in my chair and smeared the sweat away from my forehead. Why was I sweating so much when the air conditions were working at full capacity?

The crick in my neck worsened when I tried to turn toward the direction of the ventilator.

Shit.

I turned back and unbuttoned the first two buttons of my shirt.

The relief was instant.

I breathed deeply and rubbed my aching temples.

I needed a cold drink but my decanter was empty.

I got up to refill it. The room in front of me swirled. I gripped the edge of my desk and groaned.

What the hell was wrong with me?

Maybe Giuseppe was right. Maybe I was coming down with something. I needed to talk to my doctor. Things were getting methodically worse by the day. My eating habits were dead. My sleep patterns had gone to shit.

My office door unlocked with a soft click at that moment and the last man I expected to see today walked in.

"I knew I would find you here." He spoke, his silver cane clanking against the flooring with every stride he took toward my desk.

I sat back down and relaxed in my chair. There was only one reason why my grandfather would be here. Stefan. "You should be home resting not parading my company."

"You left me no choice," He sat, legs crossed. "You have not come to visit me in a while. This is no way to treat your old man."

He was right.

I didn't visit, and that was because I knew he would ask about Sienna and I would have no answer.

"Since we are talking technicalities, adding Alaric to the guest list is also no way to treat your grandson."

He of all people knew about past and was aware of how much I would give to wipe that runt from the face of the earth.

"Why, don't tell me you still haven't forgiven him?"

"I will never do that."

"You two used to be best of friends."

"That was a long time ago." Right before he stabbed me in the back in the worst way possible. But after what I did to him, I could say we were even.

"He's a changed man." My grandfather added.

Changed man?

I almost laughed.

He might have quit doing drugs and sought help in a rehabilitation center but that was not enough to cover the horns of the devil underneath, and if we didn't both have the Larsen blood flowing in our veins, he would be dead in a ditch with his face battered to the point of no recognition.

"What's the real reason you are here?" I asked, changing the topic. The thought of him made me sick. Sicker than I already felt.

Gramps regarded me for a moment, tapping his fingers on my desk. "Word has reached me that you have fired more than ten workers in the span of a week."

I stifled a growl, refusing to remember how irritating they'd all been. "They're incompetent."

"Does that also explain why you spend all your days and nights in the office working yourself to death?"

I sighed. "I am not in the mood for this, gramps. You should go back home."

"How is Sienna?"

My hand tightened around my desk.

What part of I was not in the mood did he not understand?

I didn't answer.

"I heard she traveled home for Thanksgiving," he proceeded. "When is she coming back? I want to have tea with her."

I scowled. "I don't know when she is coming back." I didn't know if she was.

He studied me, his head cocked to the side. "Did you two fight again? Is that why you look so withdrawn?"

"I am not withdrawn," I snapped defensively. "I am perfectly fine."

He rolled his eyes at me like a toddler. "I might be old but I am not stupid. I know a man who misses his woman when I see one."

I didn't miss her.

I didn't need her.

I remained silent, ignoring him.

"If you miss her so much why did you let her go in the first place?"

The muscle in my jaw ticked. "She wanted to leave, I was not going to force her to stay."

He shook his head pitifully. "Aye yai yai, the apple doesn't indeed fall far from the tree. You sound just like your father."

My chest constricted and my throat tightened with bitterness. I was nothing like my father. I was nothing like him. I wouldn't take my child to a brothel at fifteen and lock him in a room with a whore. I wouldn't send him off to the army to die all because he tried to confide in me about his assault. My fists clenched tight. I wouldn't take my life right in front of my own child.

"You share the same pride and ignorance." He continued, shaking his head again. "It's clear she didn't leave for the holidays, she left to get away from you and I can see why." He sighed. "My boy, if you love her as you claim you do then you should -"

The timer on his watch started to beep, cutting him mid-sentence. He muttered a curse, shutting it off. "That is my doctor paging me. I have to be home in time for my medication." He got up, grunting wantonly.

Uneasiness vibrated in my chest. I got up with him.

"My birthday is in less than a month. I don't know what you have to do or how you have to do it but I want Sienna there by your side as your wife and nothing else." He raised his cane and poked my chest with it. "You've suffered enough, Tristan, stop denying yourself what you truly deserve."

The fresh surge of unwelcome feelings that hit my chest made it tighten. I took a step back from his prodding cane.

He smiled warmly at me even though I was frowning at him. "And get a haircut while you're at it, will you? I'm sure your wife doesn't want you looking like Tarzan when you go to get her."