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chapter seven
Huling Na-update:
2025-12-10 21:03:18Chapter Seven
The Letter The boardroom table stretched like a snake, cold and glossy under the chandelier light. Sienna sat at the end—silent, poised, out of place. Damien hadn’t spoken to her since last night. He hadn’t looked at her either. Not when she walked in beside him. Not when the board members nodded politely at her, with curiosity barely veiled behind smug expressions. She was just there. Like a doll dressed up in pearls and shoved into the spotlight. Eleanor sat at the head of the table, regal in a blood-red suit, her fingers tapping against her wine glass with rhythmic precision. “As you all know,” Eleanor began, “the Westwood name must continue to carry weight. Reputation. Legacy. The merger with the Callahan Group will ensure that.” Everyone murmured approval. Except Damien. He sipped his drink, disinterested, eyes trained on the window. Sienna kept hers on the documents in front of her—until a cold hand rested briefly on hers under the table. She jumped. Damien didn’t even glance at her. But his hand stayed. Just a second longer than necessary. And then it was gone. Just like that. --- Later that evening… Sienna wandered the east wing of the mansion, her heels echoing against marble. She wasn’t supposed to be here. Eleanor had warned her to stay in the west wing. But she needed space. Silence. Answers. She pushed open a door and froze. A study. Old. Dusty. Books lined the walls. Faded photographs in golden frames. She stepped inside, brushing fingers over the desk—until her eyes landed on a sealed envelope. Yellowed. Unopened. Her name was on it. To Sienna. She frowned. Picked it up. It wasn’t Damien’s handwriting. It was— Dante’s. Her heart stuttered. Hands trembling, she opened it. --- Sienna, If you’re reading this, then something has happened. I knew this family would bury my truth eventually. I never thought it’d be you in this house. But I’m glad it’s you. Because if there’s anyone who might find what I couldn’t… it’s the girl who was never meant to belong here. Find the red box in the piano room. And be careful. Not everyone here wants the past uncovered. —D --- The letter slipped from her hands. Dante knew something. Something important. Something Eleanor didn’t want found. She spun around— Damien stood at the doorway, arms crossed. Her stomach dropped. “How long have you been there?” she whispered. “Long enough.” His face was unreadable. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said. “You knew about the letter, didn’t you?” Silence. “Damien, what’s in the piano room?” His jaw flexed. “Nothing.” “Liar.” He took a step closer. “You don’t know what you’re doing, Sienna.” She stared at him. “Then tell me.” Another step. “I’m warning you.” His voice was low. Dangerous. But it didn’t scare her anymore. “I’m not the one keeping secrets,” she whispered. Something flickered in his eyes. Pain. Maybe regret. “Go back to your room,” he said, softer now. “Don’t come here again.” “I’m not afraid of Eleanor.” “You should be.” She turned to walk past him, but he grabbed her arm. Not harshly. Not gently either. Just enough to stop her. “I’m trying to protect you,” he muttered. She looked up at him, tears burning behind her eyes. “Then start acting like it.” For a moment, their faces were inches apart again. The same tension from the night before—thick, hot, unbearable. But this time, he leaned in. Barely. His lips ghosted hers. Not a kiss. Just a hint of one. Then— He pulled back. Cold again. “Don’t go near the piano room,” he said, turning away. And he left her there—heart pounding, lips trembling, fingers still clinging to the letter like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. --- Somewhere else… Eleanor stared at a security monitor. She’d seen it all. The letter. The touch. The almost-kiss. She picked up her phone. “Tell the staff to seal off the piano room,” she said calmly. “And if Sienna tries to get in…” She smiled. “…remind her what happens to little girls who dig too deep.” .
Pinakabagong kabanata
CRUEL OBSESSION 72
CHAPTER 72 — THE FIRST MOVE The warehouse felt alive. Not in the sense of warmth or comfort, but like a creature waiting for the right moment to strike. Concrete floors reflected the faint light from the skylights above, throwing long shadows that seemed to stretch toward Sienna with every step. She adjusted her stance, heels silent against the floor. Her fingers brushed the edge of her jacket—not because she planned to pull anything, but because the gesture anchored her. Damien stayed close, shadowing her, his presence heavy with unspoken protection. He didn’t need to speak. His eyes alone reminded her: You are not alone. But you are not untouchable. Across the room, Dante studied them both. Leaning casually against a steel beam, he looked every inch the predator: calm, composed, dangerous. But tonight, there was something else in his gaze—a spark that made Sienna’s pulse quicken with anticipation, not fear. Cassandra moved behind the monitors near the far wall, alert. Isabelle
CRUEL OBSESSION 71
CHAPTER 71 — COLLISION COURSE The next morning, the house felt heavier than usual. Not ominous in the supernatural sense—but like the air had been compressed, condensed by expectation, by the knowledge that everything would change today. Sienna sensed it the moment she stepped out of her room. Guards were tighter, eyes sharper. Damien moved differently—less relaxed, more like a panther coiled, ready to spring. And she matched him, consciously, because the second she faltered, Dante would notice. She met Damien in the breakfast room. The table was set, everything perfectly aligned as usual, but the tension made the air almost brittle. Even the silverware seemed like it might bite. “No one’s touching food,” Damien muttered. “Eat fast or don’t eat at all.” Sienna picked up a piece of toast and nibbled carefully, ignoring the tightness in her stomach. Her mind was already replaying last night—the controlled confrontation, Dante’s surprise, her own confidence radiating in a way she ha
CRUEL OBSESSION 70
CHAPTER 70 — THE MOMENT SHE STOPS ASKING The trap wasn’t baited with blood. That was the mistake everyone would’ve expected Damien Westwood to make. Instead, it was baited with access. Sienna didn’t learn that until she was already inside it. The room Damien chose was one of the oldest wings of the house—stone walls, high ceilings, no cameras except the ones he couldn’t admit existed. It smelled faintly of wood polish and something older, something like history refusing to fade. “You understand what this means,” Damien said, standing across from her. She nodded. “You give him a window.” “And in return,” he continued, “he tries to crawl through it.” Sienna clasped her hands behind her back, grounding herself. “I’m not walking in blind.” “No,” Damien agreed. “You’re walking in watched.” She almost smiled at that. They stood there for a moment—two people who had already crossed lines neither of them could name anymore. This wasn’t romance. This wasn’t fear. This was consent
CRUEL OBSESSION 69
⸻ CHAPTER 69 — WHAT POWER ASKS FOR The first rule Damien gave her was simple. Never assume you’re alone. Sienna learned it the hard way—by noticing the absence of sound. No footsteps. No murmurs from the guards outside her door. No soft hum of the house settling into itself. Just quiet. Thick. Intentional. She sat up in bed slowly, heart steady but alert. The lights were still on. The door was still locked. But something had shifted. She reached for the burner phone instinctively. No new messages. That didn’t mean anything. It meant everything. She stood, pulling on boots, movements deliberate. Fear made people sloppy. She refused to give Dante that satisfaction. When she opened the door, Damien was already there. “You felt it too,” he said. “Yes.” They didn’t explain it to each other. They didn’t need to. They walked side by side down the corridor, the house revealing itself inch by inch—corners intact, windows sealed, guards posted but tense. Everyone felt it. No
CRUEL OBSESSION 68
CHAPTER 68 — THE WEIGHT OF BEING SEEN Sienna realized something was wrong before anyone said a word. It wasn’t the guards—there were always guards. It wasn’t the locked doors—those had become routine. It was the attention. The way eyes followed her now, not with dismissal or irritation, but with calculation. She had crossed from tolerated presence to active variable. And everyone felt it. She moved through the hallway slowly, deliberately, refusing to rush even as her nerves buzzed beneath her skin. Rushing was weakness. Dante would smell it. The house would feel it. She reached the sitting room and stopped short. Charles Westwood was there. So was Reginald St. Claire. Her father. The sight of him hit her harder than any threat Dante could send. Reginald stood stiffly near the window, hands clasped behind his back, his expression unreadable in that familiar, distant way that had defined most of her childhood. He looked older than she remembered. Smaller. Or maybe she had si
CRUEL OBSESSION 67
CHAPTER 67 — THE SILENCE BEFORE HE STRIKES The phone didn’t ring again. That was worse. Sienna sat on the edge of the bed long after Damien left the room, the burner phone resting on the nightstand like a live thing—quiet, waiting, smug in its stillness. Dante didn’t need to say anything else. He had already said enough. I see you. I can reach you. I’m patient. She hated how calm that made him feel in her bones. The house shifted into lockdown mode without anyone needing to say the word. Doors were secured. Guards doubled. Routes were altered. Damien’s men moved like pieces on a board only he could see. Sienna watched it all from the margins, the way she always had. But this time, she wasn’t invisible. She was the reason. She went to Annabelle’s room just after midnight. Her mother slept peacefully, chest rising and falling beneath thin blankets, IV lines humming softly beside her. For a moment, Sienna allowed herself to imagine a future where this was all over—where Anna
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