The doors slide open, and I step out, loosening my cufflinks as I move through the foyer. My shoes echo against marble. Every sound feels too loud, too deliberate—like the night itself is watching me.
The engagement soirée should be over in my head by now. Especially since I don’t give a fuck about being married.
It isn’t.
Sienna Roth doesn’t leave my head when I tell her to. She lingers—in the way she smiled without warmth, in the way she touched me like she was testing a weapon, in the calm certainty in her eyes that made my skin itch.
I push into my study and shut the door behind me.
The room smells like leather and cedar and old money. Familiar. Safe. Mine. But not tonight.
I drop into the leather chair, elbows braced on my knees, hands clasped together. My jaw tightens as I stare at the darkened window across the room. The city glows beyond it, distant and indifferent.
I replay the night without meaning to.
The way she leaned into me during the photographs.
The way her fingers slid across my chest, slow and intentional.
The way she didn’t flinch—didn’t hesitate—like she wasn’t pretending at all.
I exhale through my nose and scrub a hand over my face.
It’s irritation,I tell myself.Nothing else.
Annoyance at her composure. At how easily she slipped into the role. At how she never once looked unsure, never once sought reassurance. She moved through the evening like she owned it—like I was the variable, not her.
My phone buzzes on the desk.
I don’t look at it.
I stand abruptly and pour myself a drink. The burn of the alcohol does nothing to quiet the tension crawling under my skin.
She took the ring without hesitation.
Slid it onto her finger like it was inevitable.
Like she’d already decided how this ends.
My fingers tighten around the glass.
Whatever game Sienna Roth is playing, she’s playing it well. And the worst part? I don’t know whether I’m angry because I don’t trust her—or because some traitorous part of me wants to know exactly how far she’s willing to go.
My phone starts ringing.
I glance at it once and look away.
It’s probably one of my brothers. They’ve been circling me like hawks since the engagement was announced, watching for cracks, waiting for the inevitable explosion. They expected resistance. Expected me to fight the council, the families, the timing.
I would have with any other woman.
But this is Sienna Roth.
The phone keeps ringing.
I exhale sharply and answer without checking the screen.
“What?”
