CHAPTER 2

The rain started just as Sienna reached the corner of the block. It wasn’t a gentle drizzle; it was a sudden, heavy downpour that soaked through the thin silk of her wedding dress within seconds. She didn’t have a coat, a purse, or a plan. She just kept walking, her heels clicking unevenly on the wet pavement until she couldn't take the friction anymore. She stopped by a bus stop, leaned against the cold glass, and stepped out of her shoes.

She stood there, barefoot on the concrete, holding her heels by the straps. Her hair, which had taken two hours to style, now hung in wet, heavy clumps against her neck.

"Great," she muttered, looking at her reflection in the dark glass of the bus shelter. "Just great."

A black SUV pulled up to the curb, splashing a wave of gray water onto the sidewalk. Sienna didn't move. She didn't even flinch. She just watched the water recede into the gutter.

The back window of the SUV rolled down halfway. A man leaned toward the opening, his face mostly obscured by the shadows of the car’s interior.

"You're going to catch pneumonia standing out there," the man said. His voice was calm, with a slight gravelly edge to it.

Sienna looked at the car. "I'm fine. Thanks."

"You're wearing a wedding dress in a rainstorm, standing barefoot at a bus stop," he pointed out. "Fine isn't exactly the word that comes to mind."

Sienna wiped a stray drop of rain from her eyelash. "I’m just waiting for the rain to let up."

"The forecast says it’s going to rain for the next three hours," he said. The car door opened, and he stepped out.

He was tall, wearing a charcoal-colored suit that looked more expensive than Sienna's entire wedding. He didn't run to avoid the rain. He walked slowly toward the shelter, stopping a few feet away from her. He looked her up and down, his gaze landing on the lack of a ring on her finger.

"Rough day?" he asked.

Sienna let out a short, breathy laugh. "You could say that."

"I’m Declan," he said, offering nothing more. He didn't ask her name. He didn't offer a handkerchief. He just stood there, letting the rain ruin his suit.

"Sienna."

"Well, Sienna, I’m headed to the Vantage Lounge across the street. They have decent scotch and very dry towels. You’re welcome to join me, or you can stay here and wait for a bus that probably isn't coming."

Sienna looked at the lounge across the street. The neon sign flickered through the rain. Then she looked back at Declan. "Why?"

"Because you look like you’re about to either faint or punch someone, and I’d prefer it if you did neither of those things on my sidewalk," Declan said. He gestured toward the car. "My driver can drop you wherever you need to go after a drink. Or we can just sit in the quiet. Your choice."

Sienna looked at her muddy feet, then back at the St. Regis hotel towering a few blocks away. She thought about her parents, who were probably currently screaming at the wedding planner. She thought about Liam and Chloe.

"I’ll take the drink," she said.

Declan nodded and opened the door for her. The interior of the car smelled like leather and expensive cologne. Sienna sat on the edge of the seat, trying not to get the upholstery too wet. Declan climbed in after her and tapped on the glass partition.

"Vantage, Marcus," he said.

The drive was short—less than two minutes. When they pulled up to the lounge, Marcus, the driver, jumped out with a large black umbrella. He shielded Sienna as she walked into the building.

The lounge was dim, filled with the low hum of jazz and the clinking of glassware. It was the kind of place where people went to be invisible. The hostess looked at Sienna’s soaked wedding dress, opened her mouth to speak, but then saw Declan behind her and quickly shut it.

"The corner booth, Mr. Vance," the hostess said, grabbing two menus.

"Just the drinks for now, Sarah. And bring some towels," Declan said.

They sat in a high-backed leather booth in the farthest corner of the room. A waiter appeared moments later with two thick, white towels. Sienna took one and immediately started rubbing her hair.

"Thanks," she whispered.

"Don't mention it," Declan said. He looked at the waiter. "The Macallan. Two glasses. Neat."

"I don't usually drink scotch," Sienna said, wrapping the towel around her shoulders.

"Today feels like a scotch kind of day," Declan replied. He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. He watched her with a neutral expression, his eyes scanning her face. "So. Who was the lucky guy?"

"Liam Thorne," Sienna said.

Declan’s eyebrows rose just a fraction. "Thorne. As in Thorne Logistics?"

"That’s the one."

"Small world," Declan said. A cold, sharp smile touched his lips. "I’ve been trying to buy his father’s shipping lanes for three years. Liam is... well, he’s a bit of a placeholder, isn't he?"

Sienna gripped her towel tighter. "He’s a cheater. That’s what he is."

The waiter returned with two glasses of amber liquid. Declan picked his up and waited. Sienna picked hers up, took a sip, and immediately winced as the alcohol burned its way down her throat.

"Better?" Declan asked.

"Stronger," she corrected.

"Good. You need it." He took a slow sip of his own drink. "I’m guessing the wedding is off, then? Or are you just taking a very long break before the vows?"

"It's off. I caught him with my sister in the groomsmen's suite," she said. It was the first time she had said it out loud. It sounded even more ridiculous than it had felt an hour ago.

Declan didn't look shocked. He didn't offer a "sorry to hear that" or any other empty platitudes. He just leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. "Your sister? That’s remarkably cliché of him. He couldn't even find someone outside the family?"

"Apparently not."

"And what’s your plan now, Sienna? Go home? Cry? Wait for him to call and apologize?"

Sienna set her glass down with a heavy thud. "I’m not going back to him. And I can't go home. My parents... they’ll just tell me to forgive him for the sake of the merger. That wedding wasn't just about us. It was a business deal between our families."

Declan watched her for a long moment. He seemed to be weighing something in his head. He took another sip of his scotch, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You know," Declan said quietly, "my board of directors has been breathing down my neck for months. They think I’m too 'unpredictable' because I’m single. They want stability. They want a wife who can stand next to me at galas and look like she’s part of a plan."

Sienna frowned. "What does that have to do with me?"

"Liam Thorne needs this wedding to secure his position in his father’s company. Without your family’s backing, he loses his leverage. And your family loses their entry into the shipping market," Declan said. He tapped his fingers on the table. "But if you were to marry someone else... someone like me... Liam loses everything. Not just you, but the deal, the reputation, and his father’s respect."

Sienna stared at him. The room felt suddenly colder. "You're joking."

"I don't joke about business, Sienna. And I don't joke about the Thornes," Declan said. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a thin, silver card case. He slid a business card across the table. "You need a place to stay and a way to make him regret walking into that room today. I need a wife who has a reason to hate the competition as much as I do."

Sienna looked at the card. Declan Vance. CEO, Vance International.

"It’s a contract, Sienna. Purely professional," he continued. "One year. I provide the protection, the lifestyle, and the resources to ensure Liam Thorne never wins another contract in this city. You provide the image."

Sienna looked at her bare feet again, then at the man sitting across from her. He was a stranger, but he was offering the one thing nobody else would: a way to fight back.

"I need another drink," Sienna said, reaching for her glass.

Declan signaled the waiter again. "Take your time. The rain isn't stopping anytime soon."