เข้าสู่ระบบSIENNA'S POV
I pressed my back against the wall, heart hammering like a war drum as my fingers curled tightly around the curtain, trying to will myself invisible. But of course… I wasn’t invisible. Atleast not to him.
“Uhmm... okay,” he murmured, and I nearly yelped. His voice wasn’t loud, but it slithered through the small space of the room, brushing against my ears in a way that made my skin crawl... and melt at the same time.
I risked a quick glance, just enough to see him leaning casually against the bedside, with that damn smirk still teasing at the corners of his lips. My stomach clenched immediately as I quickly pulled away from the curtain.
“Why are you even here?” I demanded, trying to sound more composed than I felt. “This... no... these are my rooms.”
“Your rooms?” He let out a low chuckle that made something somewhere inside me twist. “Funny, the nurse told me this room was all mine."
I froze. What?
“Wait… what do you mean?” I asked. “I paid for both rooms! I specifically requested privacy.”
“Apparently, the nurse thought I needed it more. So here we are… sharing, whether you like it or not.”
Sharing. The word alone made my pulse spike, and I had to physically press a hand to my chest to perhaps stop my heart from exploding.
“I… I can’t believe this. This isn’t fair.”
“Fair?” he mused. “Life rarely is. Besides, it could be… interesting.”
Interesting?! Yeah... no. I swallowed hard, trying to remind myself that I didn’t know him. That I didn’t have to be affected by his smug confidence, neither by his proximity. But the heat radiating from him, the way the air seemed to thrum around his presence, made my body betray me in ways that made my stomach twist with shame.
Argh! Fuck me! What I'm i fucking thinking?!
"Listen,” I said tilting my head like I actually meant business, whereas I was scared as a child in the dark “you need to leave. This is my space.”
I could hear his footsteps stepping closer, and I swear... I was tempted a million times in a single minute to look at him, but I refused.
“You should really relax,” he murmured. “It’s just a mix-up… nothing to get worked up about.”
"Nothing to get worked up about?” I repeated. “You barged into my room! My... my private space! Do you have any idea...”
“I do,” he cut in smoothly, “and yet, here you are…”
I shook my head, backing further into the wall, wishing the curtain could dissolve into a barrier thick enough to block him out entirely. “I… I never want to see you... pervert again!”
The words left my mouth like fire, and without waiting for a response, I ripped myself from the curtain, and stormed out of the room.
I didn’t glance back. Why would I? I wanted my space, my air, my damn control... the kind I’d spent forever clawing back... and no smug stranger was going to snatch it from me. Fuck him! Fuck the fertility clinic! Fuck me cos why was my heart still doing gymnastics?
You know what would fix everything right now? My fiancé… and some insanely hot, can’t-stop, lose-yourself kind of sex.
I stormed out of that damn clinic, and slid into my car. The stranger... yes, the stupid Crestmoon Lycan with the smug face and ridiculous confidence... could keep his stupid smirk. I had bigger plans... Nigel! definitely needed him right now. And judging by the doctor’s words, it was literally now or never.
Nigel had been buried in meetings and calls ever since the death of the previous alpha... God bless his soul. I caught my reflection in the rearview mirror, eyes wide, and my lips pressed into a line. I let out a shaky breath... and damn, I looked like trouble... and I was about to deliver. Busy Nigel only meant one thing: I could sneak in, take over his world for five minutes, maybe an hour. Maybe make him forget about contracts and politics with a little “I’m your fiancée, deal with it” magic.
By ten I was already strutting down the road, and by twenty I was slipping through the front door smooth as silk.
The door clicked open, and I stepped inside.
“Nigel?” I called out, letting my voice drift lazily through the hallway as I dropped my bag on the couch. No answer. Of course not. He was probably buried in some mountain of work, or plotting to take over the city… again.
I shrugged and made my way to the kitchen, as always. The kitchen greeted me with its familiar smell... fresh coffee lingering from the morning, and a faint hint of citrus from the cleaning spray he hated. I made my way to the counter, popped open a bottle of champagne, and let the bubbles tickle my fingertips as I poured myself a small glass. Toasting to… what exactly? Our impending chaos, maybe. My pulse spiked again, only this time with anticipation rather than frustration. God, I needed this... I needed him.
Where was he, though? Bedroom first, of course. I exhaled deeply as I nudged the door open, and to my surprise... nothing. Classic Nigel, probably hiding out in his study, plotting the next power move or whatever. I rolled my eyes, as I drained half my champagne, letting my feet carry me wherever they wanted.
I wandered to his wardrobe and before I knew it, my clothes were peeling off one by one like they had somewhere better to be, and I was sliding into Nigel’s favorite oversized tee, with literally nothing underneath. My legs felt exposed, as a shiver ran up my spine when the cool air slipped between my legs, brushing against my very core... and God, it felt electric. I studied myself in the mirror, as my lips lifted into that cheeky, “yeah, I know what I’m doing” smirk. Damn. Nigel was going to lose it when he saw me. He wouldn’t know whether to rip me into pieces or beg me to stay exactly like this forever.
I was supposed to go straight to the study, but my feet had other ideas, dragging me into the kitchen like I needed a pit stop. The fridge door swung and poured two glasses, one for me, and one for him. Champagne always made everything… better. Sex, mischief, even waiting for Nigel's touch... honestly, I felt like champagne was invented for this exact reason.
Finally, I made my way to his study, swaying my hips like never before.
“Nigel! Let’s make a baby.”
I pushed the door open, ready to knock him off his damn feet.
But plot twist… turns out, I was the one who got knocked sideways instead.
LUTHER POV The car hummed quietly beneath me, the leather under my hands familiar and grounding. I didn’t glance at Sienna. I didn’t need to. Her presence was a weight I could feel, light but persistent, pressing at my chest in a way I refused to name. I kept my jaw set, eyes on the road ahead, though every instinct I had screamed to look at her, measure the way she sat, the tension coiled in her shoulders.She wasn’t mine. Not fully. Not yet. And that thought alone made every careful step I had taken today feel simultaneously necessary and wrong. Every plan I had meticulously arranged, every strategy I thought would keep us both safe, suddenly seemed fragile, like it could be shredded with one careless move.I parked the car in the underground lot, the space gleaming in sterile perfection. Every polished surface, every reflection, reminded me that I operated in a world where appearances mattered—where even a mistake could cost more than I was willing to pay. The lights above cast th
Sienna POVThe slap didn’t just sting—it rang.My cheek burned, hot and pulsing, like Piper’s palm had left a whole handprint carved into my skin. I stumbled back a step, breathing hard, fingers reaching instinctively for my face as my ears filled with the sharp inhale of everyone in the lobby.The receptionist gasped first.Her eyes widened, her hand flying over her mouth like she had just witnessed a murder instead of workplace drama.Piper’s reaction was slower. She tilted her head, blinked once, and then gave this sickening little pout.“Awwn,” she cooed, dragging out the fake sympathy like it tasted sweet to her. “I’m so sorry, did my claws scratch you?”The word claws should’ve been a joke, but it wasn’t. Not from her. Piper’s claws were freshly done—long, shiny, sharp. She knew exactly what she did.Something warm slid down my chin.I touched it with trembling fingers, expecting maybe sweat or tears.But when I pulled my hand back…Red.Blood.My blood.On my fingers.Right in
Sienna POV“It is so desperate of you to come to work to see Nigel,” Piper said.Her tone was sugary-sweet and venom-laced, like someone who has been rehearsing that line in the bathroom mirror for weeks. She wanted attention. She wanted reaction. She wanted a scene.My spine stiffened.Work.Wait.Work?I blinked once, letting the word settle.So Nigel… worked here?In this building?In Luther Lavigne’s building?The receptionist’s eyes flicked between us—her face neutral but alert.This wasn’t just gossip anymore.It was spectacle.Piper leaned closer to Nigel, like she needed to stake claim. Like I was a threat. Which was funny, because I wasn’t even trying to be anything. Not to him. Not anymore.My chest rose slowly as I inhaled.And then I exhaled just as slowly.I wasn’t about to fold.“I’m not here to see Nigel,” I said, making sure my voice was steady, clean, not shaking. “I’m here to see Luther Lavigne.”The name came out unbothered.Simple.Direct.Piper laughed.Not just l
Sienna POVI turned.The voice belonged to a woman behind the reception desk.She was maybe in her early thirties, pretty in that quiet, expensive way. Her hair was pulled back into one of those sleek buns that never have flyaways, like gravity itself respected her. A thin gold chain sat at her collarbone, subtle but clearly real. Her blouse was pressed to perfection—white, soft, not the cheap stiff kind. And her perfume… light, clean, citrus with something floral. Controlled. Everything about her was controlled.She didn’t smile, not really. Just that polite work expression people wear when they’re paid to be approachable but not accessible.Her eyes skimmed me—taking me in, assessing. Not judging. Just… observing. The way a gatekeeper looks at someone who hasn’t yet proven they’re allowed past the door.“Yes?” she prompted softly.I swallowed, keeping my voice steady.“No, I’m with Mr. Lavigne. I’m Sienna… Sienna Monroe.”The name slipped out awkwardly. Like I wasn’t sure I was supp
Sienna POVThe way he looked at me made warmth crawl up under my skin. Not in a romantic way—no. It was the kind of look people use when they’re trying to understand you without you having to speak. A knowing kind of quiet. And it made me feel… exposed.His jaw tightened just slightly, like he was sorting through something in his head. Then his voice came, calm and firm:“I think, based on the day you’ve had, you should come with me.”It wasn’t a suggestion. It wasn’t even close. His tone didn’t leave space for me to choose something else, and yet… it wasn’t forceful either. Just steady. Certain. Like he had already made the decision for both of us before I even realized I needed someone to make it.My mouth opened, probably to give some useless protest, but no sound came. I just nodded. Pathetic, I know. But everything in my chest felt heavy, and I was tired of pretending like I could hold myself together with my bare hands.He led me to the car, opened the door. Not gentlemanly. Not
LUTHER POVSienna signing that contract wasn’t just business to me.Most people think everything I do is calculated, political, strategic—cold. Sometimes they’re right. But that paper wasn’t about property or power. It was about binding her to me in a way I could not be written out of.It was commitment.Even if she didn’t understand it, even if she thought it was just some agreement to stay under my roof and carry my child—she was stepping into my life. My world. My war.She doesn’t trust me. I’m not blind. I feel it in her silence, in the sharpness of her tone when she speaks, in the way her eyes flick to exits without realizing she’s doing it. She watches me like I might turn into something dangerous at any moment.Maybe she’s not wrong.But what she never acknowledges is this: she followed.She stayed.She could have run a dozen times.And she didn’t.That matters more than either of us is ready to say.Bringing her to my room wasn’t an act of possession—not the way she fears. It







