Novels by Sienna Harris

The office is colder than usual. My fingers nervously tap against my phone as I stand in front of the slick desk. I don't like to acknowledge it, but the message in my email is bothering me. I look up and see Pierce leaning back in his chair with a smug smile on his face. He continues, "You have to hear this, Jackson," and slides a folder my way. "The chance of a lifetime." I grab the folder and feel the jagged edges digging into my palm. The name on the cover, Stone & Black Enterprises, makes my stomach drop. I know who they are and what they want. I don't even have to open it. "Let me guess," I say in a low voice. "You are giving me a way to get rid of Charles." Pierce laughs gently. "I can help you acquire what you want: money, power, and the chance to get back at him. Jackson, you know how this game works. "We've lived in this world long enough." My heart is racing. The words are too seductive. All the things I've been battling for and all the worries I have about Charles loo

The study is dark, and the air is thick with tension as I sit across from Charles. The things he hasn't addressed and the weight of his past are still between us. He stares out the window with his jaw clinched, as if he's holding something back. "You don't have to do this," I say in a voice that's just above a whisper. "I can’t keep fighting without knowing the truth."Charles turns, his eyes dark but soft in a way I’ve never seen before. “You think you know everything, Jackson. You think I’ve been some kind of monster, hiding from my past. But you wouldn't understand.”He stands up swiftly, his fists clenching at his sides. "My father... he’s never been the father you think he is. He made me this way."I stand too, not sure where this conversation is going. “What do you mean? What happened?”He looks at me then, his gaze piercing. “When I was younger, I was more than just his heir. I was his tool, his weapon to build an empire. He controlled everything—my thoughts, my actions. I

I look around the crowded gala, where people are talking and drinks are clinking. People are laughing, mingling, and doing their best to act like everything is fine, but I can feel the tension swirling inside me. I know she’s here. I can sense it.And then I see her. Victoria. Her black clothing fits her like a second skin, and her cold smile makes me shiver. She is observing me from across the room, her eyes locked on me like a predator on its prey.“You knew she’d show up,” Charles murmurs beside me, his voice tight with controlled tension. “Are you ready for this?”I try to swallow the lump in my throat but fail. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”Before I can take another step, Victoria makes her move. She’s beside me in an instant, her heels clicking on the marble floor, her perfume overwhelming. Her presence is magnetic, dangerous.“Jackson,” she says, her voice like silk, but there’s a cold edge to it. “I hope you’re not still hiding behind your little secrets.” She gestures to the

I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, the room spinning around me. My phone buzzes again, but I don’t pick it up. Victoria’s words still echo in my head. “You’re too blind to see the truth.”I try to push her out of my thoughts, but she keeps coming back. The past few days, everything with Charles feels... off. The way he avoids some queries and the times when his eyes sparkle with something that can't be read. I'm in a bind. I could face him, but what if I'm wrong? What if I’ve just let Victoria’s poisonous words cloud my judgment? Then again, if I don’t ask, I might never know.A knock on the door breaks my reverie. I don’t even need to look to know it’s him. Charles’s presence has a way of filling a room, even when he's quiet.“Jackson,” his voice is soft but firm. “We need to talk.”I take a deep breath before I open the door. There he is—tall, imposing. His sharp jawline is shadowed with stubble, his eyes intense, watching me. He stands in the doorway like he owns it.“About what

I lean against the window and clutch the cool glass with my hand as I look out at the city below. The streets are busy, and the world goes on as if nothing has happened. But I feel like everything is out of whack. I can tell who is calling without even looking at my phone. Victoria.I can practically hear her voice in my brain, oozing with that same planned charm, assuring me that if I stay with Charles, my life won't be mine anymore. She had remarked, "You won't even know who you are anymore, Jackson." "But then again, you never really did."Her comments get to me in a manner that makes my heart race for all the wrong reasons. I can't get rid of the picture of her smirk, how she knows how to get to me, and how she spins her web around me, tightening it every day. She is more than just a woman to be afraid of; she is a danger.But then there's Charles. Charles, God. Every moment with him feels like I'm going into a world I don't understand, but I feel more alive than I've ever been. H

Jackson strolled into Charles's office, thinking it would be another boring day of work. But as soon as he walked in, the mood in the room changed. Charles was standing by the big window with his back to the city and looking out. The normally cold, calculating mood was gone. He seemed far away and weak, in a way that Jackson had never seen before. There had been silent but evident tension between them for weeks. Jackson tried to dismiss it, but it was impossible when every look and touch between them felt like it meant more than it should. He knew he wasn't dreaming it, and the knot in his stomach got tighter as he stood there and watched Charles from behind. "Charles?" Jackson murmured softly, his voice shaky, not knowing if he was interrupting anything private. Jackson thought for a second that Charles might not have heard him because he didn't answer right away. But then Charles gently turned around, and when their eyes met, Jackson's pulse skipped a beat. For a short time, nei

The courthouse hummed with restless murmurs, every sound magnified by polished marble walls. Noah’s shoes clicked too loudly as he walked beside Dominic, a manila folder clutched against his chest like a shield. His palms were slick with sweat, though Dominic’s hand brushing the small of his back steadied him for a moment.“You’re trembling,” Dominic murmured, voice low and even.“I’m fine,” Noah lied, though his voice cracked.“You don’t look fine.” Dominic’s dark eyes cut sideways, sharp as glass. “Keep your head up. She feeds on weakness.”Before Noah could answer, the air shifted. Harper entered, heels striking the floor with deliberate grace. Her hair gleamed under the courthouse lights, every strand perfectly arranged, her fitted dress projecting power. The corners of her mouth lifted in a smile, but her eyes carried frost.Noah’s throat tightened. Their gazes locked, and for a fraction of a second, Harper’s smile widened, mocking.Dominic’s hand left Noah’s back, replaced

Dominic’s penthouse office glowed with the first rays of dawn. The skyline stretched endlessly behind him, glass walls framing a kingdom he owned piece by piece. He sat at a mahogany desk polished to perfection, one hand drumming against the armrest while the other held his phone to his ear. His voice was steel wrapped in velvet.“File it today. Motions, counterclaims—make her choke on paperwork before she breathes. I don’t want Harper stepping near a courtroom without tripping over a wall of obstacles. Do you understand me?”“Yes, Mr. Voss,” the lawyer’s voice crackled through the speaker.“Good. Don’t wait for instructions. I pay you to anticipate.” Dominic ended the call with a flick of his thumb, leaning back in his chair, expression carved in stone.The office door opened without warning. Noah stepped in, his hair still damp from the shower, his lean frame wrapped in a white T-shirt and joggers. He froze at the sight of Dominic lowering the phone. His chest tightened. “What wa

The garage smelt like oil and wet concrete, and every sound was stretched out by the echo. Dominic's footsteps broke the silence. They were steady and purposeful, and his tailored coat brushed against his thighs as he walked. The lights above flickered, casting broken rays of light around the room. Ahead, a silver sedan gleamed beneath the low ceiling, and beside it, Harper leaned casually against the driver’s side.She wore a cream trench, heels clicking against the ground when she shifted her stance. Her lips painted red, her hair sleek as though she had just walked off a magazine spread. Yet her knuckles tightened around her car keys, the metal pressed too hard into her palm.“You really couldn’t choose a café like everyone else?” Dominic’s voice carried, smooth but edged with disdain.Harper’s smile bloomed, practiced and sharp. “And give you the satisfaction of an audience? No, Dominic. This suits us better.”He stopped a few feet away, hands sliding into his pockets, eyes

The dining table was painted a delicate gold as the early light streamed through the penthouse's floor-to-ceiling windows. The soft clatter of silverware blended with the aroma of roasted coffee. Noah sat opposite Dominic, his plate half-touched. His nerves itched beneath his skin, the kind that made him tap his fork against porcelain without realizing.Dominic noticed. He always noticed. His gray eyes lifted from the morning paper, sharp, waiting. “You’ve been restless all week. Say it.”Noah took a breath, heart hammering. “I want Eli to be enrolled in school.”The words snapped the silence like glass shattering.Dominic’s brow creased, his scar drawing darker. “No.” He didn’t hesitate. One syllable, final, like a slammed door.“Why not?” Noah leaned forward, his tone edged with frustration. “He needs to be around other kids. He needs—”“He needs to be safe,” Dominic cut in, voice calm but carrying steel. “The outside world is unpredictable. Strangers, teachers, parents—too m

The dining table gleamed under the soft chandelier light, crystal glasses catching flecks of gold. Dominic sat at the head, a figure carved in sharp lines and shadows. His tailored shirt stretched across broad shoulders, the scar that traced his cheek giving him an edge that silenced most men before they spoke.Across from him, Noah pushed noodles around his plate. His fork scraped too loud, betraying the unease coiled in his chest. He glanced up once, caught those storm-gray eyes, then quickly looked away.“You’ve been quiet,” Dominic said, his voice low, carrying more weight than the words deserved. “Something on your mind?”Noah forced a smile. “Just tired.”Dominic leaned back, studying him like one studies an opponent before a move. “Tired doesn’t make your hand shake.”Noah froze, fork suspended. His hand really had been trembling. He set it down quickly. “It’s nothing.”“Nothing,” Dominic repeated, rolling the word over his tongue. “I’ve heard that before. It usually means t

Penthouse TensionThe kitchen glowed with soft morning light spilling through floor-to-ceiling windows, bouncing off marble counters polished to glass. The scent of roasted coffee hung in the air. Noah leaned against the island, sleeves pushed to his elbows, eyes drifting between Eli pushing a toy truck along the tiles and the city skyline that stretched forever.The elevator doors slid open. Dominic strode in, crisp suit hugging his tall frame, Jaxon shadowing him like steel. Their voices cut off mid-conversation when Noah turned. Dominic’s gaze softened, then hardened again as if he couldn’t afford softness.Jaxon dropped a thin folder onto the counter. Photographs spilled out—grainy shots of Harper leaning across a table at a café.“She’s not working alone,” Dominic said, with a low voice but razor sharp. He tapped one of the pictures with a gloved finger. “This man. The face is shadowed, but I can feel who it is.”Jaxon leaned closer, brows drawn. “Caleb?”Dominic’s jaw flexed,