Marlowe Sienna Novels & Stories

Harold and Marissa looked furious, and my parents looked equally grim. Harold pointed at the door and snapped, "Either he leaves now, or you both get out!" Sienna clutched the man's hand even tighter, showing no intention of letting go. Enraged, Harold raised a glass as if to smash it. I stopped him, whispering, "Mr. Vaughn, let's not make things worse than they already are." But Sienna didn't seem to appreciate the gesture. She strode up to Harold and Marissa confidently and announced loudly, "This is my boyfriend, Jacques. He is the only man I ever want to marry!"

I needed to recalibrate. ​"The poached salmon is from my own stream in Scotland," Silas said, watching Sienna. He hadn't touched his fork. "You haven't told me, dear. Was it Greenwich? There was a girl, years ago, at the Rose Society’s annual gala. She couldn't have been more than ten, but she had the same way of looking at a flower—as if she were listening to it speak." ​Sienna froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. Her eyes clouded for a split second, a flicker of something passing over her face before she masked it with a shy smile.

" Marcus would have never expected, not only did she know Grayson, she is his wife. Sienna looked at Marcus in anger Sienna's anger flared as she said, "Aren't we a proper entertainment company, why are you encouraging me to find a sugar daddy?" A sneer emerged on Marcus's fine-featured face, which made him look gayer. "Don't look down on those girls. How long have you been acting? Have you ever had a leading role? There are beautiful girls everywhere in showbiz if you have nothing unique to offer, why should anyone put their effort into you?"

Someone behind us was playing a tinny clip of the last song on their phone, as if we hadn’t just lived it. Sienna leaned her head on my shoulder, exhausted now that the adrenaline had worn off. Her voice was barely a whisper. “I’m going to marry Jace,” she said. “You don’t even know his middle name,” I said. “I don’t need to,” she said, dead serious. “Love transcends middle names.” I snorted. “That’s going on your tombstone.” Sienna smiled, eyes closed. “You liked it.” “I liked the music,” I corrected automatically.

Then I heard the sound of humming coming from the kitchen. Sienna walked out, wearing a pair of my expensive yoga leggings and a cropped top. She was holding a glass of chilled white wine in each hand. She looked so pretty, so small, and so perfectly fake. "There she is!" Sienna chirped, walking toward me with a huge smile. "I heard the door. Well? Tell me everything! Is Marcus the happiest man in the world? Are we officially the board members of a tech empire?" She tried to hand me a glass of wine. I looked at her hand—the same hand that had pushed me off the roof—and I felt a surge of heat in my face. It took everything I had not to throw the wine right back at her.

Isabella looked down at it confused, "what's wrong with it?" "Let me show you," Francesca said, her hand still outstretched. She took it from Bella and brought out another cosmetic product, "Silas Shea listened to me when I told him about my worry about someone playing tricks and switching our product. So there is a little S logo at the base of every one of our products. See here." she showed her the other product, then showed her the face cream tub, and truly, Isabella did not see the trademark Logo.

He looked at me and I averted my gaze because they were so intense that it felt hot. “Mr. Greyson, I don’t want you causing a scene in my territory. I’ll do as you ask.” She knew him, he was a popular lawyer. How popular was the question? As she worked my cuffs she grumbled some incoherent words about lawyers. When we were left alone. His icy stare rendered me in a pool of heat and embarrassment. “Okay, I need you to be honest with me, Miss Sienna, did you kill the victim?” My names had never felt polished until he said it. He made it sound so rich. Like a limited piece preserved in the museum.

The look of confusion on her face made me laugh even more. “Oh, you didn’t know? You came here to meet your future husband, didn’t you?” Sienna frowned, her lips parted as she processed what I just said. “Y-You’re Lucian Moretti?” “The one and only,” I replied, walking toward her with open arms. I didn’t expect she’d be able to get away from me and even had a gun with her. My intel said that the head of the Vale clan cherished his daughter dearly. Who would have expected that the cherished daughter could break an opponent’s bone and know how to shoot?

THIRD PERSON’S POV Elena Marlowe always walked into a room like it belonged to her. Sienna Cross, however, walked into a room like she was here to steal it. Together, they were impossible to ignore — two magnetic forces orbiting the same sun, destined to clash and spark in equal measure.

A black car pulled up at the curb at eight exactly. Luca Moreau got out first. He scanned the street, then the doorway, then me. He took his time with that last part. Then he opened the rear door, and Sienna stepped out in a dark coat with her hair loose around her shoulders. She looked tired. Not the sharp, polished tired of Larenne. The other kind. The kind I used to see in my studio, when she came in late and sat down without a word. "You're early," she said.