Semua Bab Flames of desire. : Bab 11 - Bab 17

Sienna’s POVThe mirror reflects perfection. At least, that’s what I tell myself as I lean forward and smooth a final stroke of lipstick across my mouth. My hair tumbles in glossy curls over my shoulders, my dress tailored to cling in all the right places. It isn’t vanity if it’s true. People stare when I walk into a room. They always have. In Willowcreek, people talk, too. I make sure they talk about me. I tilt my chin higher, admiring the shimmer of my necklace. Damon bought it for me last Christmas, though to be fair, he buys everyone in the family gifts. Still, mine was bigger, shinier, more expensive. Because I matter more. Because I deserve it. The smile fades as quickly as it forms. Claire Johnson. Her name slips into my mind like a stain I can’t scrub out. She should be gone. She should have disappeared after Mike left her, humiliated and discarded. That divorce was the talk of Willowcreek, and I savoured every delicious detail. She poured her life into Mike, into Green and P

Sienna's POVI know my uncle is hiding something. It starts as a whisper of unease, a shadow curling at the edge of my mind whenever he slips away in the evenings. Damon has always been predictable, a creature of habit who values control above everything else. But lately, he has been different. He leaves at odd hours, sometimes returning late, his jaw tense, his eyes sharper, like he’s daring anyone to question him. I do question him, silently, from the corners, with eyes that never stop watching. I’ve planted my eyes and ears where I need them. People think Willowcreek is a sleepy little town, but it’s amazing what the desperate will do for a little money. The butler at Damon’s house. The driver who sometimes takes him to the airport. Even the housekeeper who pretends to adore him but can’t resist the cash I slip into her hand. They tell me things, and I weave them together like threads into a net. The net is closing. My uncle has been sneaking out at night. Not just once, not just t

Sleep evades me. I’ve been pacing the length of my study for what feels like hours, bourbon untouched on the desk, tie discarded on the arm of a chair. The house is quiet, too quiet, and that silence leaves space for her face to creep in, Claire Johnson. The woman I told myself I would keep at arm’s length, the woman I swore would remain nothing more than a reckless indulgence. But her laugh. Her mouth. The way she says my name is as though it belongs to her. It’s poison. Addictive. Irresistible. I know I shouldn’t. She’s too close, too dangerous, already entangled with my company, my family, my life. If Sienna ever found out, if the board caught wind of it. The scandal would ruin everything. I know how this town is. They will say I am too old for her. She is after my money. All those ugly things. Yet I find myself grabbing my keys.I don’t plan it. One second, I’m staring at the walls of this old house, haunted by memories I’ve buried, and the next I’m behind the wheel, cutting thro

Damon’s POVThe door slams behind Sienna so hard the walls shake. For a long moment, the only sound in the room is the ragged rhythm of our breathing. Claire sits frozen on the couch, clutching the blanket against her chest like a shield, her eyes wide and shining in the dim light. She looks fragile in a way that twists my gut, like I’ve dragged her straight into the middle of a war she never signed up for. In a way, I have. I drag a hand down my face, trying to scrub away the lingering echo of Sienna’s voice. Her shrieks, her accusations, her venom are still rattling inside my skull. I’ve seen her throw tantrums before, I’ve heard her sharp tongue aimed at enemies and rivals, but this was different. This was personal. I look at Claire, at the way her knuckles whiten around the blanket, at the tremor in her lower lip. Rage surges through me again, but this time for Claire. For the way Sienna tore into her like she was nothing, like she was less than human. I cross the room and sit dow