Chapter 5: The Confession

Sienna was updating the quarterly logistics brief when Damon stepped into her office unannounced—a rare and unsettling move. He never entered her workspace unless something was on fire or collapsing.

She looked up, brow arched. “Is something wrong with the Arizona numbers?”

“No,” he said, voice low. “But I need to talk to you. Privately.”

She saved the file, stood, and followed him without question. Her heels clicked softly against the marble floor as he led her down the hall to the executive lounge, a private space rarely used unless a high-profile guest was involved.

Once inside, he shut the door.

She stood there, arms crossed. “What’s going on?”

He hesitated. For the first time in weeks, Damon Caldwell looked genuinely uncomfortable.

“There’s something I need to tell you. And before I say it, I want you to know I didn’t plan this. It just… happened.”

“That’s never a good way to start a conversation,” she replied, suspicious now.

“At the fundraiser last weekend,” he began, “my father was introducing me to a line of women—engineers, lawyers, heiresses. All of them ‘perfect matches’ for me. I got fed up, and I told him I was already seeing someone.”

Sienna blinked. “Okay… and?”

He cleared his throat. “They kept pushing. Wanted to know who she was. And… I said it was you.”

She didn’t speak.

Didn’t move.

Her mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out.

“I told them we’ve been together for a few months,” he continued carefully. “That you were private, grounded, not from our world. Which, ironically, made them more excited to meet you.”

Sienna blinked twice. “You told your billionaire parents that you’re dating me—your secretary—because you got bored of talking to other women?”

“Well, when you say it like that—”

“That is exactly what you did!” she snapped, stepping back. “You used my name as a shield without asking me. Damon, do you understand what kind of position you’ve put me in?”

“I do. And I’m sorry. I panicked.”

“You don’t panic. You calculate. You strategize. This wasn’t panic—this was convenience.”

He said nothing.

“You have no idea how hard I’ve worked to earn this job, to build even a fraction of credibility. And now I’m going to be seen as the secretary sleeping with her boss for leverage? Do you know how that sounds? How that looks?”

“I wouldn’t let anyone think that.”

“You won’t have a choice. People will talk. They already do. Office gossip spreads faster than fire on dry grass.”

“I know I screwed up,” Damon admitted. “But you’re the only person I trust with this. I’ll handle the press. I’ll control the narrative. I’ll make sure no one disrespects you.”

Sienna stared at him, fuming.

She wanted to yell, to say things that would sting. But she couldn’t. Not here. Not to him—the boss who paid her, the man who held her job and her paycheck in his hands.

“I need time to think,” she said quietly.

“I understand.”

She turned and walked out.

By the time Sienna got home, Jordan was on the couch watching basketball highlights with a bowl of popcorn. She barely registered his voice.

“Hey, you’re back early. Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she lied. “Just tired.”

“You look… intense.”

“Just work stuff.” She ruffled his hair. “Go to bed soon.”

She locked herself in her room and collapsed on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

She couldn’t focus. Couldn’t breathe.

Her boss had used her. Just like that. Pulled her into his billionaire soap opera without warning or permission. It wasn’t personal—of course not. To him, it was just a logical decision. She was there, familiar, harmless.

Disposable.

But what if she said yes?

What if she agreed to play along—for a week, maybe two?

She’d be helping him. Maybe even helping herself. The Caldwells were powerful. If she went along with this charade and walked away clean, maybe there’d be something in it for her—stability, security. A payoff that could wipe her father's debts.

But at what cost?

Her dignity? Her principles?

She closed her eyes, mind spinning. She hated this.

Damon didn’t go home.

He left the office after everyone else and drove straight to one of the family penthouses uptown. It was rarely used—one of many extravagant properties collecting dust like decorative trophies. It was quiet, spacious, impersonal. Perfect for hiding.

He tossed his tie on the couch, loosened his shirt collar, and stared at the Manhattan skyline through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

He poured a glass of scotch and sat on the edge of the bed, phone buzzing in his pocket.

Mom.

He answered with a sigh. “Hi, Mother.”

“Oh good, you’re alive. I’ve been calling. Why aren’t you home?”

“I’m working late. Crashing at the office tonight.”

A pause. “Damon… are you hiding something?”

“No.”

“You haven’t brought this girl around. Not even a photo. I know you, Damon. When you’re lying, you get distant.”

“I’m not lying,” he said flatly.

Another pause. “Well, whenever you’re done with this... project of yours, bring her home. I bought extra raspberry compote.”

“Thanks,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “Good night, Mother.”

He hung up.

For the first time in years, he didn’t feel in control. If Sienna said no, everything would unravel. His lie would be exposed. His father would lose what little patience he had left.

And he’d be back where he started—heir to nothing.

The next morning, Damon was already at his desk before the sun came up. He hadn’t slept. He looked at every unread message, reviewed every project file—but he couldn’t focus.

He was waiting.

Waiting for her.

At 8:17 a.m., she walked in.

He stood as she approached, her expression unreadable.

“Can we talk?” he asked quietly.

She nodded. They went into his office. She stood near the window, arms folded.

“Well?” he asked, trying to hide his anxiety.

Sienna looked at him for a long, tense moment.

“No,” she said softly.

Damon blinked. “No?”

“I’m not doing it, Damon. I’ve thought about it all night, and I can’t. I won’t.”

“But—”

“Don’t try to convince me,” she said firmly. “This was your lie. You put me in the middle of it. You risked my reputation, my career, and didn’t even ask me first.”

He stepped forward. “I was desperate.”

“I’m not your safety net.”

He didn’t respond.

Sienna gathered herself. “I’m here to work. Not play pretend. If you want me to continue working professionally under you, respect my boundaries. This fake relationship nonsense ends here.”

She turned toward the door. Then paused.

“For what it’s worth, I hope you figure it out.”

And with that, she walked out, leaving Damon standing alone—trapped in the very lie he built to escape the truth.