Hers [Book #2]

Chapter 36

Sienna's POV
I wasn't expecting to wake up in my bed the following morning. I sighed in contentment as I smoothed my hand over Tristan's side of the bed. It was cold.

A pleased smile formed on my lips. I knew he had something to do with this. I sat up in bed, wondering if he had slept on the couch or taken one of the guest bedrooms.

There was a knock at the door. "Come in." The door was opened, and Tristan entered the room. He was shirtless and covered in sweat. He most likely just got back from working out.

Damn, I hate how good he looks right now. His hair is damp, sweat sticking to his muscles. I scanned some of the tattoos on him and bit my lip.

Do you think he would mind if we called a temporary truce to have sex?

Remembering I'm still supposed to be mad at him, I quickly wiped the smile off my face.

He was silent as he went into the bathroom. He kept the door open, intentionally teasing me as he got naked. Despite the ache between my thighs, sex wasn't on the table right now. We need to talk out our issues first.

Getting out of bed, I scurried over to the toilet so I could pee. I shouldn't have had so much to drink moments before bed. But I just get so damn thirsty at night.

Lifting the toilet seat, I pushed down my pants and sat down. Tristan continued to do his own thing. I wasn't sure if he was giving me the silent treatment after the argument we had last night, or if he simply wasn't in the mood to talk.

Either way, I wasn't going to be the first to speak.

So while he got in the shower, I scrolled through Instagram videos of cats on my phone. I started to laugh obnoxiously loud, wanting to piss Tristan off.

I was hating this silent treatment and wanted his attention. But at the same time, I didn't want him to know I cared for his attention.

I just kept laughing, catching him in my peripheral giving me annoyed looks. "What the fuck is so damn funny?" He snapped, losing his patience.

"None of your damn business," I retorted, trying to act like the same video hasn't been on repeat for the last five minutes.

He looked away, grumbling under his breath as the water rinsed the soap off his body.

After I finished using the bathroom and flushing the toilet, I washed my hands. I was drying my hands with a towel when he stepped out of the shower and returned to our room.

The tension between us was thick. There was still some anger brewing and we were far too stubborn to be the bigger person and apologize.

I had hopped into the shower when I heard the loud sound of the TV coming from within our bedroom. We hardly ever watch TV, especially Tristan. He'd rather throw temper tantrums, shoot at shit, and fuck.

"Can you please turn that down?" I yelled.

He only turned it up louder, acting as though he couldn't hear me.

"You don't even like TV, you dick!"

"I do today!" He shouted back.

I knew his ass could hear me.

Finishing up my shower, I turned off the water and didn't bother grabbing a towel as I stormed back into the room. Eyeing the plug to the TV, I stomped over and yanked the cord out of the outlet.

The TV screen cut off, Tristan sitting on the edge of the bed with a grin on his face. He ran his hand through his wet hair, his eyes raking over my naked form.

My eyes drifted to the imprint straining against his towel. I rolled my eyes, pretending like I wasn't breathing heavier and craving to have him inside me.

I shift my gaze back up to his face just as his eyes lift to meet mine. "Are you done being mad at me?" He asked lowly.

"No," I replied, walking past him so I could go grab my robe.

He encircled his arms around me and pulled me into his chest. I stood in between his legs, his hard body pinned against me.

"Let go of me," I demanded, trying and failing to pull his arms off me. "I'm trying to get dressed."

"No. You wanted to talk, so let's talk." He kissed my shoulder, his dick hardening even more against my ass. "I'm all ears, baby."

I scoffed. "You? Listen? That's not possible."

"I spoke with Cyrus," he began. "Sandrino overheard the conversation you and mama had with Katya."

I swiveled around in his arms, my eyes nearly bulging out of my head. "W-What?"

"I'm not mad." I stared into his eyes. "I mean, I was at first. But after my conversation with Cyrus, I realize that I may have reacted too harshly."

I grabbed at his cheeks, pulling at his face to see if there was an imposter underneath the mask of skin. There was no way this was my husband.

He pulled my hands away from his face and kissed them. "That child deserves to be raised by a father who loves them."

He started to tear up.

I used my thumbs to wipe the tears from his eyes. I don't get to see this emotional side of my husband often. Maybe if he's had too much to drink. But he hardly drinks anymore now that his father is out of the picture.

"Oh, baby," I said softly before kissing the corner of his mouth. "What's wrong?"

He lowered his head, burying his face in between my breasts. "You don't know this, but Angel was like a son to me. He was just a boy when I found him sleeping on the streets."

Angel told me a little bit about his story, but not all of it. I never knew Tristan viewed him this way. I'm starting to understand why he chose to exile him instead of taking his life. He couldn't do it even if he tried.

"Do you know how proud I am of you, amore(love)?" He looked up at me and nodded slowly. I started to cry myself. "I'm sorry for not acknowledging your feelings in all of this. I shouldn't have been so quick to paint you a villain for what happened."

"It's okay, mia cara(my dear). I understand why you were upset. You care about Angel and Katya."

They have always been nice to me. They were nice to me when I was first brought to this house and they have been nice to me ever since.

"I do. But baby, I also care about you. You are my heart. And as your wife, I know that I need to be more supportive of your decisions and stop trying to question you all the time."

He smiled wide. "Say that again."

"Say what again?" I asked, confused.

"That you're my wife."

I rolled my eyes. Of course, that's all he got out of it. Why am I not surprised?

"Sono tua moglie(I'm your wife)."

"Cazzo(Fuck). How many minutes do we have before the boy wakes up?"

You'd think that since Gianni likes to sleep in late that Mateo would sleep in at least once. But no, Mateo likes having a routine just like his father.

"We have about ten minutes."

"I only need eight," he said, pulling me onto his lap.