Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Time stopped.

Sienna stared at the hand Landon held out to her, every sound in the ballroom fading into a dull, distant hum.

Those fingers. She knew them. Had memorized them without trying. Had felt them trace slow patterns along her skin, cup her face, tangle in her hair while he whispered her name into the dark like it meant something sacred.

Now they hovered in front of her, steady and polite.

Waiting for a handshake.

Her chest tightened until breathing hurt. It felt like chains had wrapped around her ribs, pulling tighter with every second she hesitated. The ballroom was bright and beautiful, full of crystal lights and soft music and expensive laughter, but all she could see was him.

“Sienna?”

Noah’s voice reached her, distant and concerned.

“You okay? You look…”

Pale. She did not need him to finish. She could feel it. The blood draining from her face. The faint dizziness creeping in.

She forced herself to move.

Her fingers lifted, stiff and trembling, and closed around his hand.

The moment their skin touched, lightning shot up her arm.

Sharp. Immediate. Undeniable.

The same spark. The same fire she had felt on the beach, under the stars, when his hands had not been careful or polite. When they had been desperate and hungry and real.

His jaw tightened. For half a second, something flashed in his dark eyes. Recognition. Shock. Pain.

Then it vanished.

“Nice to meet you,” he said.

His voice was calm. Even. Controlled.

Like they were strangers meeting for the first time.

Like he had never kissed her until she forgot how to breathe.

Like that night had meant nothing.

“You too,” she whispered.

The words felt like glass scraping down her throat.

Their hands dropped apart. The contact broke, but her body did not stop shaking. Small tremors started in her fingers, spread through her arms, settled deep in her chest.

“Landon’s a photographer,” Noah said proudly, sliding his arm around her waist. The touch was warm and possessive. “He travels all over the world. Must be exciting.”

“It has its moments,” Landon replied.

He did not look at her when he spoke. His gaze was fixed on Noah, as if she were no longer part of the conversation.

As if she had already been erased.

The dismissal stung more than she expected.

“What kind of photography?” she asked, before she could stop herself.

Her voice sounded wrong. Too high. Too thin.

“Street photography,” he said. “Real people living real lives.” His lips curved slightly, but there was no warmth in it. “Nothing fancy. Probably not interesting to someone like you.”

Someone like you.

The words were polite, but they cut deep.

Someone rich. Someone protected. Someone who had never had to fight for anything real.

She wanted to scream. Wanted to grab him and force him to look at her. To make him admit he remembered her. That he felt this too. That the night they shared had not been a lie.

Instead, she smiled.

The same smooth, empty smile she had perfected over years.

“That sounds fascinating,” she lied.

More people approached, greeting Landon warmly. Old friends. Business acquaintances. He greeted them all with effortless charm, slipping easily into the role expected of him.

She watched him move through the crowd like a predator dressed for civility. Every word measured. Every smile controlled.

But she saw what others missed.

The tension in his shoulders. The way his hands clenched when he thought no one was watching. The barely contained anger beneath his calm exterior.

He hated this place.

And he hated her for belonging to it.

The band struck up another song. Soft and romantic. Noah squeezed her hand.

“Dance with me,” he said.

She let him lead her onto the dance floor. Let him pull her close and guide her through the steps she had learned years ago. Cameras flashed. Guests applauded.

They looked perfect.

Over Noah’s shoulder, she saw Landon watching.

His face was composed. His eyes were not.

They burned with something dark and dangerous.

Hatred, she told herself.

It had to be hatred.

The song ended. Applause followed. Noah dipped her, and the crowd cheered louder.

Then Eleanor Callahan appeared beside them, radiant and triumphant.

“That was beautiful,” she said, clasping her hands together. “Just beautiful. Noah, darling, don’t you think now would be the perfect time?”

Noah’s face lit up. “You’re right, Mother.”

Her stomach dropped.

“Perfect time for what?” Sienna asked, already knowing.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Noah called out.

The music stopped. Conversations faded. Every head turned toward them.

Noah reached into his jacket.

No.

No, no, no.

He dropped to one knee.

The velvet box opened, and the diamond inside caught the light, throwing bright reflections across the walls.

The room gasped.

The ring was massive. Flawless. Blinding.

This was not the ring.

The first ring had been elegant. Private. A promise made behind closed doors.

This was a declaration.

A spectacle.

A cage.

“Sienna Blake,” Noah said clearly, his voice steady and confident. “You have made me the happiest man alive. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

The diamond sparkled, cruel and beautiful. Cameras flashed nonstop. Champagne corks popped somewhere behind her.

Her mother stood at the edge of the crowd, tears streaming down her face. Her father nodded with approval. Eleanor Callahan pressed her hands to her chest, satisfaction shining in her eyes.

And at the back of the room stood Landon.

Still. Silent.

Then she saw it.

A crack in the mask.

His jaw twitched. His hands curled into fists. Something raw and wounded flashed across his face before he forced it away.

He remembered.

And it was destroying him.

Say no.

The thought rose up, wild and desperate.

Say no and run. Say no and choose yourself. Choose the girl who had felt alive for the first time on a quiet beach under a burning sky.

But the weight of expectation crushed her. Three hundred people watching. Two powerful families waiting. A future already planned.

And Landon watching.

Part of her wanted to say yes just to hurt him back. To prove she could walk away too. To make that night meaningless.

Maybe if she said yes loudly enough, she could convince herself it was true.

She swallowed the word no.

“I…” Her voice trembled.

The silence stretched. Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

“Yes,” she said.

The word cut deep.

“Yes, I’ll marry you.”

The room erupted.

Applause thundered. Cheers filled the air. The band resumed playing.

Noah slipped the ring onto her finger.

It was heavy.

Cold.

Final.

Over Noah’s shoulder, Landon turned and walked away.

He did not look back.

The rest of the night blurred together. Endless congratulations. Smiles she did not feel. Hands she barely noticed shaking hers.

At home, she sat alone at her vanity and stared at the diamond glowing against her skin.

She opened her jewelry box and took out the folded note.

You’re going to be okay. Don’t let them make you forget who you really are.

Her hands shook.

She already had.

“Landon,” she whispered into the dark.

The diamond caught the light.

Beautiful.

Cold.

Like a shackle around her finger.

Tightening with every breath.