Chapter 3: The Ultimatum

SIENNA Point Of View

For three long, painful hours, Sterling Manor was completely locked down.

I paced the cramped staff room like a caged animal, holding Leo, Toby, and Mia close to my chest. Security guards in dark suits stood outside our door like statues. Every time Mia coughed, my heart sank further into my stomach. I tried to tell myself there was a chance, some tiny, impossible chance, that it was just a strange coincidence.

Golden hazel eyes are rare, but they exist, right? right?... I mean he can't know for sure sure.

Then the door clicked open.

"Miss Mercer," the lead guard said, his face cold and blank. "Mr. Sterling will see you in the master study now. Alone."

"Mommy?" Toby whimpered, tugging on my apron. "Are we in trouble?"

"No, my sweet boy," I forced out, kneeling to kiss each of their foreheads while trying to stop my hands from shaking. "Stay here with your sister. Mommy will be right back."

Walking down the grand hallway felt like walking to my own sentencing. The heavy wooden doors of the master study were cracked open, spilling warm yellow light across the dark marble floor. I took a shaky breath, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.

Damon stood by the tall windows, looking out at the pouring rain. His suit jacket was thrown over the back of his chair, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar and rolled up at the sleeves, showing off strong forearms.

On his large glass desk sat a thick white document stamped in red ink: CONFIDENTIAL, DNA DIAGNOSTICS REPORT.

As the heavy door clicked shut behind me, Damon turned.

The air left my lungs. Those golden hazel eyes, burning with sharp, focused intensity, locked onto mine.

"Ninety nine point nine percent," he said. His voice was dangerously low, vibrating through the quiet room.

The floor under my feet felt like it tilted.

"The lab just confirmed it," Damon continued, stepping slowly around the desk. His movements were smooth, deliberate, and impossible to ignore. "The boy's DNA matches mine perfectly. Which means the other two children sleeping in my annex carry the exact same blood."

"They're my children," I snapped, my voice cracking under pure fear. I stepped back sharply, my spine hitting the cold edge of the bookshelf. "You don't get to claim them after five years! I raised them alone! I worked three jobs to pay for Mia's heart treatments while you lived in your mansion!"

Damon didn't flinch. He kept coming until he stood right in front of me, his tall frame blocking the light. The scent of rain, cedar, and heat rolled off him, the exact same scent that had haunted my memories for five long years.

"Five years ago," he whispered, his voice dropping rough and low.

He reached into his pocket and set a small red box on the desk beside us. With a flick of his thumb, he opened it.

Inside lay a polished silver Venetian half mask.

My breath caught hard in my throat. Tears rushed into my eyes.

"I spent five years hunting for the woman who slipped out of Suite 802 before sunrise," Damon growled, leaning down until his lips were inches from my ear. "I turned this city upside down. I searched high society lists, medical records, security footage. And this whole time, the woman who stole my peace of mind was scrubbing my floors??!?"

"I didn't know it was you," I sobbed, covering my face as the tears broke free. "I swear to God, Damon, I didn't know! You were wearing a mask! I was drugged, I was scared..."

"I don't care about the past," Damon interrupted, his warm fingers gently but firmly taking hold of my wrist, pulling my hand away from my face. His thumb traced my cheekbone, wiping away a tear with a gentleness that surprised me, though his face stayed cold as ice. "I only care about what happens now."

"You can't take them from me," I pleaded, my voice breaking into a whisper. "Please... Mia is sick. She can't handle a custody fight. Don't tear my family apart."

"Tear them apart?" Damon let out a low, dark laugh that sent a chill down my spine. "Sienna, you don't understand how a Sterling operates. I don't tear my family apart. I claim it."

He reached for a leather folder on his desk and opened it, showing a crisp, already written legal document.

"This is a legal marriage agreement," Damon said, his golden eyes locked on mine with total, unshakable possession. "You have twenty four hours to sign it."

I blinked through my tears, staring at the bold header at the top of the page.

PRENUPTIAL AND CONTRACT MARRIAGE AGREEMENT.

"A... marriage?" I stammered, stunned.

"You will become Mrs. Damon Sterling," he said, leaving no room to argue. "You and my children will move into the master suite by tomorrow evening. My board needs a stable, married CEO to finalize the global merger next month, and my heirs belong under my roof, carrying my name."

"And if I say no?" I said, glaring at him through my tears. "If I walk out those gates right now?"

Damon leaned down, his eyes narrowing into thin lines of gold.

"If you refuse," he whispered coldly, "my legal team will file for emergency full custody by midnight. You'll be dragged through court, called unfit because you can't provide financial stability, and you won't see those children again until their eighteenth birthdays."

My heart shattered into pieces. He was a billionaire. I was a broke former maid with no name left to her. In a courtroom, he would beat me in minutes.

"But if you sign," Damon added, his voice softening just slightly as his hand slid to the back of my neck, holding me in place, "Mia gets the top heart surgeon in North America flown in by tomorrow morning. Your sons get the best education money can buy. And you... get my full, unshakable protection."

I stared at him, my chest heaving, caught between two impossible choices.

"Is this just a transaction to you?" I whispered, my voice trembling. "A business deal?"

Damon's hand tightened slightly on the back of my neck, pulling me an inch closer until I could feel the fast, uneven beat of his heart against my chest.

"Sign the contract, Sienna," he said quietly, his eyes dropping to my lips before snapping back up to mine. "And find out."