Chapter Four

The next day at the office, Sienna's birthday was all about the celebration. Her coworkers had set up decorations and brought in cake - it was a nice surprise. And of course The messages were pouring in, filling her inbox with love and well-wishes.

Greg might have been physically absent from the birthday celebration, but he certainly didn't miss the opportunity to make his lovely niece feel special.

A gorgeous bouquet of flowers landed at the office, and alongside it, a teeny-tiny gift box that was basically palm-sized, with a bow that was almost too adorable to untie.

Meanwhile, Mackenzie showed up with some awesome birthday treats - chocolates galore, in all shapes and sizes, and a fun pink crop top with "Happy 22" emblazoned on it in bold, glittery letters.

Sienna got home from work and, yeah, another birthday cake was waiting. The rose from Greg was a nice touch - she was still holding it when she blew out the candles on the chocolate cake her mother had baked for her.

Emily smiled, put the cake down, and gave her daughter a hug. "I'm so proud of you, Honey."

The hug was super-tight making Sienna giggle, "Love you, Mom." she said, hugging her back just as tightly.

Afterwards they snapped some photos, thanks to Mackenzie, who was hanging out and waiting for the perfect moment to mention to Emily that she was stealing Sienna away for some fun.

"Just don't make me have to bail you out of jail?" Emily joked, eyeing her daughter sternly but with a hint of a smile. "Seriously though, Go have fun, grab some food, take some pics, and stay away from trouble!"

***

Mackenzie was getting the party started, cheering "Happy birthday!" and persuading Sienna with a cheeky smile, "Just one more, Sienna. It's your birthday, live a little!"

Sienna grinned, adjusting herself on the bar stool to take another shot. She tossed it back, feeling the burn as the liquid slid down her throat. Her face turned beet red, and her skin felt like it was on fire.

Mackenzie's ear-shattering scream came next, and Sienna she laughed, wincing more from the ear-piercing shriek than the lingering buzz from the shots.

"Who's ready to dance?" Mackenzie shouted, as she charged towards the dance floor. She turned back to Sienna, grabbing her hand and pulling her along. "Come on, let's go! It's Friday, and we're gonna own this night!"

Sienna's pout turned into a full-blown sulk, her face scrunched up like she'd just sucked on a lemon. Dancing was basically a nightmare for her; she had two left feet and a rhythm that was, charitably, unique.

The drinks might've made her feel carefree, but they couldn't erase her deep-seated fear of looking like a total goofball on the dance floor.

"C'mon, girl," Mackenzie yanked Sienna's arm, nearly pulling her off balance. "Shake that booty like it's nobody's business!"

Will Smith's "Gettin' Jiggy Wit It" started playing, and Sienna was instantly perked up. Her inner diva took over, and she struck a pose, hand on hip, as she worked the dance floor like a pro (okay, maybe not quite like a pro).

"Jiggy, jiggy, get down with your bad self!" she sang along, her voice off-key but full of enthusiasm. She and her mom had a tradition of belting out this song at karaoke, proudly showcasing their questionable vocal talents.

And just like that, the music was Sienna's freedom ticket– it let her be herself, weirdness and all. Her dance moves were an eclectic mix of flailing arms, wobbly knees, and hip swivels that threatened to send her tumbling to the floor,

"Gettin' jiggy wit it!" She yelled, throwing her hands up in the air.

Mackenzie responded with a ridiculous, over-the-top "YEAH, YEAH, YEAH!" complete with jazz hands and a hip swivel.

They both cracked each other up, having the time of their lives when Sienna thought she'd heard her name.

Her tipsy brain was having a party – she was certain Will Smith's voice was calling out her name in the song. She spun around, laughing, expecting to see him grinning at her.

Instead, she was staring up at a giant of a man in a black suit and dark shades, his stone-cold serious expression making him look like Secret Service.

"Miss Sienna, this isn't a request," he repeated, "We need to go. Now."

Sienna's brows knitted together, a look of utter confusion etched across her face. "Huh?" she echoed, tilting her head to the side like a confused puppy. She wondered if her dance skills were so bad that security was being called to escort her off the floor.

The man’s lips flattened into a thin line, his eyes flicking toward Mackenzie for a fraction of a second before returning to Sienna. "It's imperative that you come with me. Tomorrow's the day, the wedding is on and that's that."

Sienna's brows furrowed even further. She glanced over at Mackenzie, whose eyes had snapped into focus at the mention of the W-word.

Mackenzie rushed to Sienna's side with scowl could've curdled milk at 50 paces, “What the heck was that all about?” she demanded, casting a scathing glare at the suited man, “Mistaken identity, I tell you. So Get lost!

She wrapped an arm around Sienna’s shoulder, ushering her away from the stranger and towards the other side of the dance floor.

“Damn weirdo,” Mackenzie muttered under her breath. “He had to be on something. You okay, girl?”

The dizzying combination of alcohol, dancing, and the adrenalin rush from the sudden confrontation with the suited stranger had finally gotten to Sienna. With Mackenzie venturing off to relieve herself, Sienna stumbled slightly as she sat on the bar stool with Mackenzie.

They chatted and, sipped on some more drinks, with Mackenzie getting progressively more tipsy. Despite her inebriation, Mackenzie managed to text Leo, their office driver, to come pick them up. After that, she stumbled off to the ladies room, leaving Sienna to sprawl across the bar counter like a starfish.

Mackenzie was back from her restroom adventure, her bladder happily relieved. But as she searched the bar for her BFF, her brows furrowed deeper. Sienna was nowhere to be found.

She rubbed her bleary eyes, trying to shake the fuzziness out of her vision. “Where the heck dud she go?”

***

Sienna blinked a few times, her vision blurry and distorted. Her head felt like a battering ram was knocking on the inside of her skull, the pounding making her wince in pain.

As her eyes adjusted, she got a good look at the room, and she was blown away. It was nothing like her own tiny space.

The space was vast, the four-poster bed large enough to fit a bunch of people. The walls were covered in tapestries and paintings, their colors rich, vibrant...

As she rolled over, her eyes landed on the one person she'd never expected to see.

Sienna’s confusion skyrocketed.

She rubbed her eyes, hoping that this was probably some weird dream. But when she opened them, the scene was still the same: Christian Bridges, sitting in a wheelchair at the foot of the bed.

Rumors had circulated that he was a vegetable, or worse, dead. But here he was, staring at her like he was pissed off.

Sienna's eyes narrowed, her mind racing with questions, What had to set him off like this? She could feel his anger radiating off him, making her skin prickle with unease.

Her head swiveled and she noticed someone else beside Christian. She recognized the sharp jawline, dark tailored suit, and towering frame – it was the same man from the bar, "The chase is over. We've finally caught you." He declared in an unforgiving tone.

"Caught me?" Sienna echoed utterly confused.

"No need to fuss over anything William. Put her in a wedding dress."Christian snapped, his anger and irritation clear in the way he spoke, his words tumbling out quickly.

"Wait, what's going on? You're talking about putting me in a wedding dress? Is this some kind of prank? I'm calling the cops, because I don't know what's going on, and I'm getting a little scared."

"Call the cops and see what happens."