Chapter 2: Drawing the Line

The morning sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Blackwell mansion's dining room.

Normally, seven o'clock in the morning was when Sienna would be busy in the kitchen, making sure Damian's favorite black coffee was brewed at the perfect temperature and his tie had already been laid out on the chair near the door.

But this morning, the dining room was silent.

Damian came downstairs with his usual steady stride. The cuffs of his dress shirt were already fastened, yet something felt off around his neck.

His tie was missing.

His eyes immediately fell on the dining table.

There was only a plate of toast and a steaming cup of coffee, but the room felt empty. Sienna was nowhere to be seen, and no gentle smile greeted him as usual.

Damian pulled out a chair roughly, the scraping sound breaking the silence.

He turned to the head housekeeper, who was arranging the pantry counter.

"Where's Sienna?" Damian asked, his voice cold and firm.

The head housekeeper bowed nervously.

"Young Madam had breakfast earlier in her room, sir. She asked me to take care of all your personal needs starting this morning."

Damian narrowed his eyes, a deeper frown forming on his forehead.

"In her room?"

Since the beginning of their contract marriage, at Damian's request for the sake of convenience and privacy, they had slept in separate bedrooms.

Even so, Sienna had never missed breakfast in the dining room.

She had always carried out her role as a devoted wife in this house with unwavering diligence, almost like a machine faithfully following its programmed routine.

Damian picked up his coffee, took one sip, and immediately set the cup back down with a sharp clink.

It was too sweet.

The head housekeeper had added sugar, the one thing Damian hated most in his morning coffee.

"Throw it away. Make another one," Damian ordered sharply before turning toward the second floor, where Sienna's bedroom was located.

Without knocking, he turned the doorknob and pushed the door wide open.

His steps came to an abrupt stop at the doorway.

Sienna was sitting in front of her vanity.

She was dressed casually in nothing more than a white cotton shirt and a pair of jeans.

Her long hair, usually pinned up neatly, flowed freely over her shoulders in soft waves.

The sight made Damian pause for a brief moment.

Sienna looked...

Different.

Freer.

After a moment of silence, Damian regained his composure, reminding himself why he had come.

"Why didn't you come downstairs?" he asked, his voice echoing through the immaculate room.

"And what's with the coffee downstairs? You know I don't like anyone else handling my personal matters."

Sienna slowly set down her hairbrush.

Turning in her chair, she looked at Damian with clear, composed eyes that held neither fear nor emotion.

"Good morning, Damian," she greeted in a voice that sounded remarkably formal, exactly like one of the secretaries at Blackwell Group.

"Starting today, all household matters and your personal needs have been entrusted to the head housekeeper. I've written down all of your preferences in detail and given the instructions to the staff."

Damian let out a dismissive scoff.

He stepped farther into the room and folded his arms across his chest as he stood beside her.

"Are you sulking because of what happened at last night's party? Because of Mother and Elena? I told you from the beginning to ignore them. Don't be childish, Sienna."

His voice remained flat, devoid of sympathy.

Sienna did not respond with anger.

Instead, she offered him a faint smile, one that felt impossibly distant.

"I'm not sulking, Damian. I'm simply reviewing the terms of our contract," Sienna replied calmly.

She picked up a transparent document folder from the table, stood up, and briefly scanned its contents.

"Article Three, Clause Two states that the Second Party is obligated to accompany the First Party at public events and maintain the First Party's reputation as the head of the family. There isn't a single clause stating that I must serve as your personal maid in this house."

Damian froze.

His jaw tightened.

"Sienna."

"Our contract will expire in three days," Sienna continued, meeting Damian's dark eyes, which were beginning to flash with anger.

"I've fulfilled every one of my responsibilities outside this house. So let's spend these remaining three days professionally. I won't intrude on your space, and I hope you'll respect my boundaries as well."

The atmosphere in the room instantly turned as cold as the polar ice.

Damian felt as though his pride had been slapped across the face.

The woman who had always spoken gently and obediently now stood before him with an invisible wall between them—one that was impossibly high and impossible to cross.

"So now that your mother's house is back in your name, you've finally decided to stand up to me?" Damian asked sarcastically, trying to reassert his authority.

Sienna felt a painful ache tighten in her chest, but she kept her composure.

"Yes. The house is safe now. And in three days, my debt of gratitude to you will be fully repaid. So please return to your room, Mr. Blackwell. I need to get ready."

Damian stiffened the moment he heard the way she addressed him.

His fists clenched at his sides.

His anger surged, not only because of Sienna's words, but because he could no longer find even the slightest trace of weakness in her eyes.

With his fury lodged in his throat, Damian turned around and slammed the bedroom door behind him.

Sienna slowly released the breath she had been holding.

Her hands trembled slightly, but a relieved smile gradually appeared on her lips.

The line had been drawn.

And she would never cross it again.