Sienna’s POV

Luther smiled.

Not the sexy, crooked one he gives me when we’re alone.

Not the gentle one he hides in my hair when I fall asleep on his chest.

This one was different—slow, sharp, and carved out of pure danger.

The kind of smile that made the air go still.

The kind of smile that told me I was in trouble.

“And what exactly were you wanting to eat, baby?” he asked.

His tone was syrupy sweet, fake-sweet, soaked in sarcasm so thick it could drown someone.

My stomach ...