LOGINDAMON Point Of View
"Mr. Sterling, Dr. Vance's private jet just touched down on the tarmac," Carter reported from the front seat of the Maybach as we sped toward the private airfield. "The surgical team at Sterling Memorial has been fully briefed, and the operating theater is prepped to your exact specifications." "Good," I said, looking out at the rain streaked window. "If Vance needs anything, any equipment, any specialist from anywhere in the world, he gets it within thirty minutes. No questions, no budget limits." "Understood, sir." I clenched my jaw, staring at my own reflection in the dark glass. Five years. For five long, painful years, I had searched every corner of this city for the woman from Suite 802. I had spent millions on private investigators, run checks through every medical registry I could find, and put myself through hell trying to find the woman whose scent and the memory of that night had haunted me ever since. And this whole time, she had been living in poverty, raising my children in a cramped two room apartment, forced to take a maid's job just to try to save my daughter's life. The anger that had been building in my chest since yesterday threatened to boil over. Her family had abandoned her. Her ex-fiancé had thrown her away like she was nothing. And the medical system had let my little girl suffer because of a missing payment. They will all pay, I told myself, my knuckles going white against my knee. Every single person who hurt her will answer for it before I'm done. An hour later, I pushed open the double doors of the master suite. Sienna stood near the tall windows, holding a teacup so tightly her knuckles were white. She wore that plain, oversized sweater, looking small and fragile against the backdrop of my huge estate. But behind those dark, tear filled eyes was a stubborn strength that made my blood run hot. "Sienna," I said softly, stepping into the room with Dr. Vance beside me. Her breath caught as I introduced the surgeon. I watched her closely as Dr. Vance explained the procedure, how routine it was for his team, how high the success rate was, how Mia would be fully cured before her sixth birthday. The moment the words left the doctor's mouth, the tension drained out of her body. A single, choked sob escaped her, and tears spilled down her face. I couldn't help myself. I stepped forward, closing the distance between us, and set my hand firmly against the small of her back. The moment my palm touched her, a sharp jolt shot up my arm, the same jolt that had broken my control five years ago in the dark. "I want the best surgical staff in the country on standby, Marcus," I told Vance, leaving no room for argument. "Cost doesn't matter. Just make sure my daughter has a full recovery." Once Vance stepped into the nursery to check on Mia, the heavy silence of the master suite settled around us. Sienna turned to look up at me, her chest rising and falling, her eyes full of raw feeling. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I... I don't even know how to repay you for this, Damon. You're saving her life." Repay me? A dark, possessive feeling rose in my chest. She still thought of this as a business deal. She thought she was just something I was putting up with for the sake of an heir. She had no idea that from the moment I saw those golden hazel eyes on Leo, she stopped being a maid to me. She became the center of everything. I leaned down, bringing my face close to hers, letting her breathe in my scent. "You don't repay me, Sienna," I said, my thumb reaching out to catch the tear sliding down her cheek. Her skin was soft, warm. "You're my wife now. Protecting you and our children isn't a favor, it's my duty." By midnight, the manor was completely quiet. I stepped out of the master bathroom, drying my hair with a towel, dark sweatpants sitting low on my hips. The room was lit only by the low glow of the fireplace, throwing soft shadows across the dark silk sheets of the huge bed. Sienna sat on the edge of the mattress, wearing a plain silk nightgown. She looked nervous, her hands twisting the hem of her gown, her eyes wide as she watched me move. "You should be resting," I said, my voice dropping low. "I... I wasn't sure where I was supposed to sleep," she admitted, her voice barely audible. "I thought... maybe the couch?" A dark, humorless sound left my throat. The couch? She thought I would make my wife, the mother of my three children, sleep on a couch while I took the bed? I walked over to her, my steps quiet against the rug, and gently took her wrist, pulling her up. "You are Mrs. Sterling," I murmured, my eyes locked on hers as I guided her back onto the bed. "You don't sleep on furniture like a servant in my house." She sank back against the pillows, her dark hair spreading out over the silk sheets. I leaned over her, planting my forearms on either side of her head, holding myself over her without touching a single inch of her body. The scent of her skin rolled over me, threatening to break the tight control I had held onto all day. Five years of wanting her, five years of nothing, surged through me all at once. "Damon..." she whispered, her eyes flicking down to my mouth before snapping back up to mine. "I signed the contract, Damon. You said this was an arrangement..." My jaw tightened. An arrangement. She wanted rules. She wanted boundaries. I reached out, my fingers tracing the line of her jaw, my thumb brushing against her lower lip, feeling her breath catch under my touch. "It is an arrangement, Sienna," I said quietly, leaning down until my breath touched her skin. "But don't mistake my patience for disinterest. You wear my ring, you sleep in my bed, and sooner or later... you'll realize you belong to me." I wanted to kiss her. God, I wanted to lose myself in her right then, until she forgot everything else. But I saw the faint shake in her shoulders, the leftover fear from five years of being alone and abandoned. I pulled back just enough to slide under the heavy blanket beside her. Reaching out, I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her against my chest. She went stiff for a second, her heart pounding like a trapped bird against my ribs. "Go to sleep, Sienna," I whispered into her hair, tightening my hold just enough to let her know she wasn't going anywhere. "I've got you." Within ten minutes, her breathing slowed, her body relaxing into my warmth as she drifted off to sleep. I held her close, staring up at the dark ceiling, knowing that no matter what storms, enemies, or scandals came at us tomorrow, she was finally back where she belonged.Damon's Point Of View The grand ballroom of the estate was cleared in less than ten minutes. I stood on the stone terrace, my hands gripped so hard against the railing that my knuckles turned completely white. Down on the lawn, the bright party lights were shut off one by one. Rich guests hurried toward their expensive cars in total shock, whispering among themselves about the sudden attack. My shirt was still unbuttoned at the throat where I had ripped off my black bow tie. The smell of gun smoke and damp earth still hung heavy in the night air. "Damon," Carter said, stepping out onto the dark terrace with a heavy tablet computer in his hand. His face was grim, carved from hard lines and deep worry. "The perimeter sweep is done. The intruder climbed over the west wall and disappeared into the state forest before our backup could cut him off. He left nothing behind except a broken branch and footprints in the mud." "That is not enough," I growled, my voice low and dangerous, vibra
Sienna’s Point Of View I ran down the hallway of the nursery wing, my heart hammering like a drum in my chest. Every shadow on the wall looked like a security guard waiting to catch me, but the hall was empty. Most of the house staff had been sent outside to help serve drinks at the big gala. I opened the nursery door quietly and stepped inside. Dr. Vance stood near the small wooden table, packing her medical bag, while two guards stood near the tall glass window overlooking the yard. Little Mia was asleep in her small white crib, while Leo and Toby sat on the soft rug, quietly stacking colored wooden blocks. "Dr. Vance," I said, forcing my voice to sound soft and natural. "Damon asked me to come up and take the children to his private office on the main floor. He wants them away from all the loud noise outside before he gives his speech." Dr. Vance smiled warmly and closed her bag. "Of course, Sienna. The boys have been very good tonight." The two guards nodded, opening the nurs
Sienna’s Point Of View The evening of the Sterling Charity Gala came with huge crowds, bright lights, and loud music. The whole estate ground was completely transformed. Big glass lights hung from high white tents in the yard, soft music played near the water fountain, and hundreds of rich guests in black suits and fancy dresses walked across the grass. Upstairs in the big master bedroom, I stood in front of the tall mirror on the wall. My breath felt short and tight in my chest. I wore a long green dress that reached all the way to the floor. It was a gift from Damon. It fit tight around my waist and fell smoothly down my legs. Bright diamonds sparkled around my neck, but to me, they felt like nothing more than a cold metal chain. The door opened, and Damon walked into the room. He looked big and very handsome in his sharp black tuxedo. His dark hair was brushed back neatly. But his dark eyes had that same cold, hard look they always carried. He walked right up behind me, stepping
Sienna’s Point Of View I ran into the master bathroom, locked the door behind me, and turned on the sink faucet all the way. Water rushed loudly down the drain, making enough noise to cover any small sound I made. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely pull the folded document out of my cardigan pocket. I set the paper down on the cold white counter and smoothed out the hard folds with my palm. It was an official bank receipt from Sterling Global Capital. The date at the top stood out in big black numbers: October 14, five years ago. That was the exact night my whole life was ruined in Suite 802. My eyes moved quickly down the page. Five million dollars had been moved out of Damon’s private account and sent to an offshore bank. At the bottom of the page was Damon’s sharp signature in dark ink, right beside his official red wax seal. Five million dollars paid out only hours after that awful night. My head throbbed. I pulled out my phone, took three clear photos of the bank
Sienna’s POV I pressed my spine against the icy concrete pillar, biting my lower lip to keep my ragged breaths silent. The bank paper in my pocket felt heavy against my ribs, a ticking bomb waiting to explode. "Sienna." Damon’s voice didn't shout. It was low, flat, and absolute...cutting straight through the dark basement corridor. His boots clicked against the floor, unhurried, steady, and relentless. He wasn't searching. He already knew where I was. I closed my eyes for a fraction of a second, squeezed my hands into tight fists, and stepped out from behind the pillar. Damon stood five feet away. His hair was damp from the shower, his dark gray dress shirt unbuttoned at the throat with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. In his hand, he held the black keycard holder I had stolen from his nightstand. His dark eyes locked onto mine, burning with a lethal mix of fury and raw, possessive tension. "Give me one good reason why you are down here," Damon said, taking a slow, delib
Sienna’s POV The steel door swinged open. The sound sounded softly down the empty basement hall, making me freeze in place. I held my breath, listening hard for any footsteps or voices, but there was only deep silence. I stepped inside right away and pulled the door almost all the way shut behind me, leaving only a tiny crack of dim light from the corridor outside. My heart was beating fast and loud against my ribs like a trapped bird. It beat so hard and fast that I could barely take a proper breath. Cold air blew straight against my face and arms. I looked around the dark room, half-expecting to find a dusty space full of old belongings, dresses, or old journals. I expected to see pictures of a dead girl, or maybe boxes of old clothes that once belonged to a missing wife. But there were no women's clothes in here. No perfume bottles on dusty tables. No simple home items at all. The vault was not a storage bedroom. It was a high-tech security room built into the foundations o







