SIENNA

“She’s here.”

Roman’s voice came from the shop floor the next morning, calm and flat. I looked up from the desk in the glass office and saw Mom’s car pull in like she owned the place.

She stepped out in a crisp blouse and dark jeans, hair perfect, face unreadable. The kind of woman who had spent years keeping her reputation clean while raising a daughter who just set it on fire. Two customers were already in the bay. Both went quiet when they recognized her.

I stood. My legs felt steady. The ache between them from the night before still lingered—Roman had fucked me against the bathroom sink...