CHAPTER 5

Sienna woke up to the sound of a soft, rhythmic tapping. She opened her eyes, momentarily disoriented by the high ceilings and the unfamiliar scent of expensive linen. The fireplace had burned down to gray embers, and the morning light filtering through the heavy curtains was pale and cool.

She sat up, pulling the duvet to her chest, as the door opened a crack. A woman in a sharp navy blazer and tailored trousers stepped in, carrying several garment bags.

"Good morning," the woman said, her voice brisk but professional. "I’m Elena, Mr. Vance’s assistant. I have your wardrobe for the day. And the rest of the week."

Sienna rubbed her eyes. "It’s only seven."

"Mr. Vance starts his days early. He’s already in the dining room with his counsel," Elena said, hanging the bags on a standing rack near the closet. She laid a pair of leather flats on the floor. "There’s coffee in the carafe on the vanity. I’ll leave you to get dressed. Mr. Vance expects you downstairs in thirty minutes."

"Right. Thanks, Elena."

Sienna waited for the door to click shut before moving. She felt a strange buzzing in her chest—not quite fear, but a sharp, alert tension. After a quick shower, she looked through the clothes Elena had brought. Everything was high-quality, muted tones, and exactly her size. She chose a cream knit sweater and dark trousers, feeling more like herself than she had in the silk wedding gown.

She found her way downstairs, guided by the low murmur of voices coming from the back of the house. The dining room was bright, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a manicured garden still glistening from the rain.

Declan was sitting at the head of a long glass table, a tablet in front of him. Opposite him sat a man with graying hair and a thick leather briefcase.

"You're on time," Declan said, looking up. He gestured to the chair beside him. "Sienna, this is Arthur. He handles my personal contracts."

Arthur offered a brief, polite smile. "Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Villarreal. Or should I say, Ms. Sienna."

"Just Sienna is fine," she said, sitting down. A housekeeper appeared immediately, placing a plate of avocado toast and a cup of black coffee in front of her.

"Arthur has the draft ready," Declan said, sliding a thick stack of papers toward her. "I’ve already signed my portion. You should read it before we go any further."

Sienna looked at the first page. It was titled Co-habitation and Public Relations Agreement. She flipped through a few pages, her eyes catching phrases like confidentiality clauses, monthly stipend, and *termination of marital status.

"It says here I’m not allowed to contact my family regarding the details of the arrangement," Sienna noted, looking at Arthur.

"That’s for your protection as much as Mr. Vance’s," Arthur explained. "If your father knows the marriage is a contract, he has leverage. If he believes it’s real, he has nothing."

Sienna looked at Declan. He was eating breakfast calmly, as if they were discussing a grocery list. "And the settlement at the end of the year? It’s... a lot of money, Declan."

"It’s a drop in the bucket compared to what I’ll save by having the board off my back," Declan replied. He set his fork down and leaned in. "Does anything in there bother you? If it does, say it now. I don't want a partner who feels cheated."

Sienna turned to the last page. "The part about 'exclusive living.' It says we share a residence, but I have my own wing."

"That’s correct," Declan said. "Unless we are hosting guests or traveling. In public, we’re a couple. In this house, we’re roommates with a shared goal."

"And if Liam comes to the office? Or calls my parents?"

"Let him," Declan said, a cold light appearing in his eyes. "In fact, I’m counting on it. I want him to see you with me. I want him to wonder when exactly he lost his grip on you."

Sienna picked up a pen sitting on the table. She felt the weight of it, the cold metal against her skin. She looked out at the garden. Somewhere out there, the world was waiting for her to come crawling back to the hotel, crying and begging for a second chance.

She looked back at the contract and signed her name in quick, fluid strokes.

Arthur took the papers and tucked them into his briefcase. "I'll have the marriage license filed by noon. We’ve found a justice of the peace who specializes in... discreet ceremonies."

"Good," Declan said. He turned to Sienna. "Change of plans for this afternoon. We’re not staying in. There’s a gallery opening for one of my foundations. Everyone who matters will be there. Including the Thornes."

Sienna felt her heart skip. "Today? I’m not sure I’m ready to see them yet."

"You won't be seeing them as the jilted bride," Declan said, standing up. He adjusted his cufflinks, his eyes locked on hers. "You’ll be seeing them as my wife. There’s a difference."

"I don't have a dress for a gallery opening," she said, her voice a bit smaller than she wanted.

"Elena already handled it," Declan said, walking toward the door. "Be ready by four. Marcus will be waiting."

He paused at the door, looking back at her. "And Sienna? Wear the red lipstick Elena brought. It makes you look like you’ve never cried a day in your life."

He disappeared into the hallway, leaving Sienna alone with her coffee and the silence of the house. She looked down at her hand, where the skin was still slightly red from where she had pulled off Liam's ring. She covered the spot with her other hand, pressing down hard until the skin turned white.

The housekeeper returned to clear Arthur’s plate. "Would you like more coffee, ma'am?"

"No," Sienna said, standing up. "I think I’ve had enough."