He’s holding an open box. Inside, a diamond ring catches the light—cut sharp, expensive, flawless. A symbol. A trap dressed as devotion.
I don’t hesitate.
I pluck the ring from the box and slide it onto my finger, the weight settling perfectly into place.
No trembling.
No ceremony.
No pretense of romance.
I lift my hand, admire it briefly, then look up at him and smile. “It’s perfect.”
Something flickers across his face—confusion, maybe even alarm. “Sienna, I don’t understand. You—”
“We should return to the party,” I say smoothly.
I pat his shoulder, light and dismissive, then turn and walk back inside without waiting for him.
The rest of the evening passes in a blur of polite smiles and rehearsed congratulations. By ten p.m., guests begin to thin out, laughter softening, music lowering into something intimate and tired. I excuse myself, lean close to my father, and tell him I need rest.
He kisses my cheek, pleased. Proud.
As I turn to leave, Sebastian appears at my side, fingers closing around my hand as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. I let him. We walk into the house together, aware of the eyes following us, the whispers stitching stories behind our backs.
The door shuts.
I yank my hand free.
The sound echoes louder than it should.
I don’t look at him. I don’t slow my pace. I move up the staircase, every step deliberate, every breath controlled. He follows—quiet, watchful—but doesn’t speak.
At my bedroom door, I stop.
“Thank you for walking me,” I say coolly. “Good night.”
The space between us feels charged, magnetic, unbearable. I can feel his gaze on me. When I finally meet his eyes, my expression is carved from calm, from distance, from nothing he can touch.
“Good night,” he says at last.
He turns and walks away.
I watch him go.
Let him sense the storm gathering.
Let him feel the edges of my intent sharpening with every step he takes away from me.
Let him understand—slowly, painfully—that this marriage will not save him.
Tonight is only the beginning.
Chapter 9 – Sebastian
It’s almost midnight when the elevator carries me up to the penthouse.
The ride is silent, smooth, too controlled. I welcome it. I need the quiet.
