Made an Alliance

Sienna’s POV

I was discharged from the hospital two weeks later.

The doctors said I was lucky to be alive, but some days, I wasn’t so sure. The accident had left me with bruises, stitches, and a silence I couldn’t shake. The story was everywhere—on blogs, on news, and whispered on every social feed. Everyone wanted to know how the “perfect couple” had crumbled.

Everyone except the two people who should have called.

Neither Gabriel nor Sylvia reached out. Not a single message. Not even a text. I told myself I didn’t care, that I was numb to them, but deep down, it burned.

The day I left the hospital, I took a cab straight to the house I once called home. My home. I just wanted to pack my things quietly and disappear. But when I reached the gate, the security guard stepped in front of me, blocking my path.

“What’s the meaning of this nonsense?” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended.

He shifted uneasily. “There’s… There’s a restraining order against you, ma’am.”

I blinked, certain I hadn’t heard right. “What?”

He held out a folded paper with my name on it. “Mr. Vale’s instructions. You can’t go inside.”

I stared at him, my pulse pounding. “Call him. Call Gabriel right now and tell him I need my stuff!”

For thirty long minutes, I stood there humiliated, trembling, and ignored until one of the housekeepers came out. “Madam, they said you can come in… but only to take your things.”

When I finally stepped through the gate, I froze.

All my luggage—my clothes, my shoes, even my journals—was lined up outside the front door like discarded trash. And standing in front of them were Gabriel, Sylvia, and little Aria.

They looked like a family. My family.

Aria was holding Sylvia’s hand, her curls bouncing as she smiled up at her. Even she knew I wasn’t her mother.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Oh well. Guess the manipulative blood runs through the family.”

Sylvia tilted her head, her expression dripping with mock sweetness. “I’m so sorry, Sienna,” she said, her voice full of false pity. “You really liked the spotlight, didn’t you? How does it feel to have it snatched away?”

I clenched my fists. Every word out of her mouth made my skin crawl. I wanted to slap her, to tear that smug smile right off her face. But I didn’t. I stood there, silent, letting the ache build in my chest.

Then Gabriel laughed. “Sorry, my dear wife,” he said, the word “wife” twisting like poison. “Thank you for building my family for me.”

My throat tightened. The man I loved, the man I almost died for, looked at me like I was a stranger.

Sylvia’s smirk widened. “Aria, your turn.”

The little girl looked up innocently. “I prefer my mommy over you,” she said. “She cooks better. And she doesn’t make me late for school.”

Even that hurt.

Still, I said nothing. I refused to give them the satisfaction of watching me break. I gathered my things, lifted my chin, and walked away.

That was the moment something in me snapped.

By evening, I was sitting in Desmond’s office.

He had called earlier, insisting we meet. His tone was calm but commanding, the kind of voice that made people listen. I wasn’t sure if I was ready, but revenge had started to sound like the only thing keeping me alive.

“We don’t have to start the plan immediately,” he said, his deep voice steady as he studied me from across the desk. “If we move too soon, Gabriel will suspect something. He might realize we’re working together for revenge.”

He was right. Gabriel was smart. Cunning. And the last thing I needed was him finding out before I was ready.

I nodded slowly. “You have a point.”

Desmond’s eyes softened, just a fraction. “You’re pregnant, Sienna. With triplets.”

The words still made me shiver. I hadn’t planned for any of this to carry the children of a man who betrayed me, to wake up every day and see his ghost in the mirror.

“I know,” I said quietly. “And I almost lost my life last week because of him and that woman.”

Desmond leaned back in his chair, his jaw tightening. The office was spacious, with sleek black marble floors, glass walls, and the scent of expensive cologne and authority hanging in the air. Sitting across from him, I felt small but strangely safe.

He hadn’t missed a single day at the hospital. Every morning, he brought flowers I didn’t want and sat by my bed without saying much. He didn’t comfort me. He didn’t pity me. He just stayed.

I hated how it made me feel special.

Not because of him, but because Gabriel had never made me feel that way.

I glanced down at my outfit: black skinny jeans and a fitted blue top that hugged my body. I didn’t dress to impress, but the way Desmond’s gaze lingered made me self-conscious.

I stood, pretending not to notice. “If we’re done, I’ll leave now.”

He smirked slightly. “What a waist you have right there, Mrs. Vale.”

My stomach tightened.

“First,” I said coldly, “don’t call me Vale. And second, I won’t tolerate that kind of comment while we’re working together.”

He chuckled under his breath, the sound low and maddeningly confident. “Relax. It was just an observation.”

Then he walked to a locked cabinet behind his desk, opened it, and pulled out a thick white envelope. He set it on the table between us with a quiet thud.

I frowned. “What’s that?”

“The contract,” he said simply.

“What contract?”

He looked me dead in the eye. “For what we’re about to do.”

I hesitated. “I don’t have time to read it. Just tell me what’s in it.”

“You have to read it and sign it,” he said, sliding it closer. “But I’ll summarize.”

His voice grew lower and steadier. “Rule one: No secrets.”

I swallowed hard. It felt like he could already see right through me, through all the pain and things I wasn’t ready to say.

“Rule two: No falling in love.”

That one hit differently. I almost laughed. “Trust me,” I muttered. “That won’t be a problem.”

“Rule three: No intimacy,” he continued. “And rule four: No backing down until it’s done. No third parties unless absolutely necessary.”

I couldn’t help the small laugh that slipped past my lips. “You’re taking this too seriously.”

“I always take revenge seriously,” he said, eyes sharp as glass. “Especially when it’s against someone who deserves it.”

I picked up the pen lying next to the envelope. My hands were steady this time.

“Fine,” I said. “Let’s play.”

Desmond’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. “Good.”

I signed my name—Sienna Vale—for the last time.

As I set the pen down, he leaned forward slightly. “Then it’s official.”

I met his gaze. “Billionaire Gabriel Vale and Sylvia Dawn,” I said, each name dripping with venom, “we’re coming for you.”

Desmond’s smirk deepened. “Now that,” he said softly, “is the woman I’ve been waiting to see.”

For the first time in weeks, I felt something other than pain.

It wasn’t peace.

It was power.