Chapter 7

Sienna’s POV

I stared at the folder he left behind. The table was still damp where the water had spilled.

I didn’t grab him. I had barely touched his skin. I lifted my hand to my nose and smelled my wrist. I didn't smell bad. To him, I was clearly something "dirty."

If he thinks I’m so beneath him, then why does he want to marry me?

My fingers crushed the napkin until it was a mangled mess in my palm.

The tightness in my chest eased slightly when the waiter brought two plates of steak. I forced myself to eat every bite.

I needed the strength. When I was finished, I took the folder and walked out. The freezing night air hit my face like a slap, knocking the breath from my lungs.

Back in my apartment, the lights were still off. I sat on the floor and used my phone light to read the rules again. One rule stood out: No touching. Another clause stated that when we were alone, I had to stay at least three meters away from him at all times.

​I took a shaky breath. Maybe that was for the best. He was a prick; I didn't want to be near him anyway.

To survive, I needed this. I found the signature line. My hand shook as I pressed the pen to the paper. Tears blurred the ink, but I didn't stop. I couldn't.

I tucked the folder into my bag, exhaled a long, shaky breath, and wiped my face with the back of my hand.

***

A loud ringing woke me up the next morning. It was 8:00 AM.

I cleared my throat, my voice barely a rasp. "Hello?"

"Miss Blake. This is James, Mr. Wolfe’s PA. I am outside your house."

I sat up so fast my head spun. My heart started to race. "Outside? Why?"

"The brief," James said. "The contract says you need to be in Mr. Wolfe’s villa today by 8:30. We are behind schedule."

My skin went cold. "I... I think I missed that part."

"Mr. Wolfe does not like to wait. Hurry up."

The phone clicked off.

I took a shower and dressed quickly. I didn't have time for makeup. I looked pale, and my eyes were still red from the night before.

When I stepped outside, a tall, polished man stood by the door of a black Rolls-Royce Phantom. The car was so shiny it looked like a mirror.

"Good morning," I said quietly.

"Morning, Miss Blake," James said. He opened the back door. "Please get in. We are late."

I sat back and gasped. The leather was perfect. When the door closed, the sound of the street just disappeared.

***

Kieran’s POV

The silence in Dr. Patel’s office felt heavy.

​I sat there, my back a straight line against the chair, watching him tap that damn pen against my file. Tap. Tap. Tap. It felt like a needle poking at my temple.

​“So,” Dr. Patel started, peering over his frames. “You’re saying it happened twice now.”

​

​"Yes." I looked at my palms. I could still feel the phantom heat where she had touched me.

Usually, contact felt like being burned or suffocated. I had spent years building walls to keep people out of my personal space. "But with her... the reaction didn't trigger. I didn't lose my breath."

​I looked up, my jaw tight enough to snap. "Why her? Is my condition getting worse? Am I losing the protection my mind built up?"

​Dr. Patel twitched his lips.

"Quite the opposite, Kieran. It’s an improvement. Your nervous system is starting to tell the difference between a threat and a simple contact. A door is opening."

​"Close it," I snapped.

​"You can't heal in a vacuum," he countered. "This girl is a fluke, a gift. If she’s the only person you can tolerate, you need more of her. More contact. It’s the only way to desensitise your nerves."

​My stomach turned. The thought of letting anyone, especially a girl like her, anywhere near me for more than a second made my skin crawl.

​"That’s impossible," I muttered, standing up.

​"I disagree," Dr. Patel said as I reached for the door. "You're a man who's been living in a cage. She might be the key. Don't push her away before you find out."

​I didn't answer. I couldn't. Because if she was the key, that meant I was still the prisoner, and I wasn't sure which thought I hated more.

***

I arrived at my villa, my grip on the door handle tightening until the metal bit into my palm. I stood there for a second, just breathing, trying to settle the roar in my blood.

Inside, James was droning on in that calm, steady voice of his. Then I heard her. Just a few words, but her voice hit me like a punch to the ribs. My chest tightened instantly. The exception. God, I hated that label.

​I pushed the door open, keeping my eyes locked on James. I didn't want to look at her.

​​"I won't be joining you," I snapped, my voice sounding more like a bark than I intended. "Make sure she understands everything."

​I didn't wait for a reply. I turned and marched toward my room, my pulse thudding in my ears. I could feel their eyes on my back, tracing every step, but I didn't care.