CHAPTER 4

The entrance hall of Declan’s house was vast and smelled faintly of cedar and rain. The floors were polished grey stone, reflecting the soft, recessed lighting from the ceiling. Sienna stood near the door, clutching the blanket around her shoulders. She felt painfully out of place in her ruined wedding dress, standing in a foyer that looked like it belonged in an architectural magazine.

Declan tossed his keys onto a marble console table. "It’s not as cold as it looks in here. The floors are heated."

Sienna looked down at her bare feet. "That explains why my toes aren't numb anymore."

"Marcus will bring your things—well, what’s left of them—to the west wing," Declan said, gesturing toward a wide staircase. "There’s a guest suite prepared. It has everything you’ll need for tonight. I’ll show you the way."

They walked in silence. The house was quiet, the kind of silence that felt expensive. As they reached the second floor, Declan led her down a long hallway lined with large, framed black-and-white photographs of cityscapes. He stopped at a heavy oak door and pushed it open.

The room was large, decorated in shades of cream and charcoal. A king-sized bed stood in the center, and a fire was already crackling in a modern, glass-enclosed fireplace.

"The bathroom is through there," Declan said, pointing to a door on the left. "There are robes in the closet. My assistant, Elena, will be here at seven with clothes. Just let her in; she has a key."

Sienna walked to the center of the room and sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress was firm. "Thank you, Declan. I know you said this is a business deal, but you didn't have to be this... hospitable."

Declan leaned against the doorframe, his hands in his pockets. He had taken off his suit jacket, and his white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar. "If we're going to pull this off, you need to look rested. People don't believe in 'whirlwind romances' if the bride looks like she’s been living in a bus shelter."

Sienna looked at the fireplace. "What happens tomorrow? My mother won't just stop calling. She’ll probably show up at my apartment."

"She can try," Declan said. "But your lease is up in two weeks anyway, isn't it? I had my team look into the Thorne-Villarreal merger details while we were in the car. Your father put up your apartment building as part of the collateral for the logistics deal."

Sienna froze. "He did what? That’s my place. I bought that with my inheritance from my grandmother."

"On paper, it’s part of the family holding," Declan said calmly. "Which means if you don't marry Liam, your father loses the building. He’s likely already sweating."

Sienna stood up, the blanket slipping an inch. "He never told me that. He told me the wedding was about 'joining two legacies.' He didn't say he was gambling my home."

"That’s how men like your father and Liam’s father operate," Declan said. He walked into the room, stopping a few feet away from her. "They use people as chips. I’m just offering you a bigger seat at the table."

"By being a chip for you instead?"

Declan tilted his head. "The difference is I’m telling you the stakes upfront. I don't hide the fine print."

Sienna rubbed her arms, feeling a chill despite the fire. "I need to call them. Not to apologize, but to tell them I’m safe. If I don't, they’ll call the police, and that’s a headline we don't want."

Declan pulled her phone from his pocket and handed it back to her. "Be brief. Don't tell them where you are. Just tell them you’re handled."

Sienna took the phone. It felt heavy. She stepped toward the window, looking out at the dark trees swaying in the wind. She dialed her mother’s number. It picked up on the first ring.

"Sienna! Where on earth are you?" her mother’s voice shrieked through the speaker. "The Thornes are furious. Liam is locked in his room refusing to talk to anyone. Do you have any idea what you’ve done to our reputation?"

"I’m safe, Mom," Sienna said, her voice sounding colder than she intended.

"Safe? You’re supposed to be at your reception! We told everyone you had a fainting spell, but people are whispering. Your father is talking to the lawyers. Just come back, apologize to Liam, and we can move the ceremony to tomorrow morning. We can say it was a medical emergency."

Sienna looked at Declan. He was watching her, his expression unreadable.

"I’m not coming back, Mom," Sienna said. "And I’m not apologizing to a man I caught with my sister."

"Sienna, don't be dramatic. It was a mistake. Men have... urges. Chloe is young and foolish, she didn't know better. We can deal with her later. But the merger—"

"The merger is over," Sienna interrupted. "Tell Dad to find another way to save his building. I’m done."

"Sienna! You listen to me—"

Sienna ended the call. She stared at the screen for a second before turning it off completely. Her hands were shaking.

"She called it a 'mistake,'" Sienna whispered. "She blamed it on 'urges.'"

"Does that surprise you?" Declan asked.

"I thought... I thought she’d at least be angry for me," Sienna said. She walked over to the vanity and picked up a heavy glass carafe of water. She poured a glass, her movements jerky. "But she just wanted to know when I could get back to the altar."

Declan moved closer, taking the glass from her hand before she could spill it. He set it down on the table. "Now you know exactly where you stand. That’s a powerful thing to know, Sienna."

"It feels more like being lonely."

"The two often go together," he said. He reached out, his thumb brushing a smudge of ruined mascara from under her eye. It was a brief, clinical touch, but it made Sienna's breath hitch. "Go take a shower. Wash the day off. My lawyer will be here at nine tomorrow with the paperwork. We’ll go over the terms over breakfast."

"What kind of terms?"

"Living arrangements, public appearances, and the non-disclosure agreements," Declan said. He walked toward the door. "And Sienna?"

She looked up. "Yeah?"

"Lock the door if it makes you feel better. I’m not Liam. I don't go where I'm not invited."

He stepped out and closed the door with a quiet click. Sienna stood in the middle of the room for a long time, listening to the crackle of the fire and the distant sound of the rain against the glass.

She walked over to the door and turned the lock. The metallic sound echoed in the high-ceilinged room. She leaned her forehead against the wood, closing her eyes.

After a moment, she walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She stripped off the soaked silk dress, leaving it in a crumpled white heap on the marble floor. She stepped into the steam, letting the hot water hit her back until her skin turned pink.

When she finally climbed out, she wrapped herself in a thick, oversized robe and sat by the fire. She watched the flames eat through a log, the orange light dancing on the walls of the room.

A soft knock came at the door.

"Ms. Sienna? It's Marcus. I've left a tray of tea and some fruit outside your door."

"Thanks, Marcus," she called out.

She waited until she heard his footsteps retreat down the hallway before she unlocked the door. A silver tray sat on the carpet. Beside it was a small, rectangular box with a bow.

Sienna brought the tray inside and opened the box. Inside was a brand new phone and a simple note written in precise, slanted handwriting.

New number. Only I have it. Sleep.

Sienna set the note on the nightstand. She picked up the new phone. It was already set up. No contacts, no messages, no history. Just a clean slate.

She climbed into the large bed, the sheets smelling of crisp linen. She stared at the ceiling, the glow of the fire casting long shadows across the room. The house was silent again, and for the first time in years, her phone didn't buzz once.