Yours! Until She Screamed!

Chapter 3.

Chapter 3: Sienna Vale

The Black Orchid’s neon glow fades behind us as Roman drags me through the back alley, his grip on my arm tight but not bruising. My heart’s a jackhammer, pounding so loud I barely hear the city’s hum—car horns, distant sirens, the pulse of New York at night. The text burns in my mind: *Stop digging, or you’ll end up like Tara.* Who’s Tara? And who the hell saw us in there? The man in the hoodie, his eyes locking on mine before he vanished, felt like a warning shot.

“Roman, slow down,” I hiss, my boots slipping on the slick pavement. The alley smells of damp concrete and rotting trash, and my breath fogs in the chilly air. “Who’s Tara? And why are we running?”

He doesn’t stop, his eyes scanning the shadows like a predator. “Tara’s the key,” he says, his voice low, urgent. “Whistleblower. Worked for Nexus. She went dark after Lila’s stunt. If they’re name-dropping her, we’re closer than I thought.”

“Closer to what?” I yank my arm free, forcing him to face me. His leather jacket catches the streetlight, and his hazel eyes are sharp, almost wild. “You didn’t tell me we’d be hunted, Roman. Who was that guy in the bar?”

He steps closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Nexus muscle. Probably tailing Lila, but now they’ve got eyes on you. I told you, Sienna—this is bigger than your divorce drama.”

“My *drama*?” My voice cracks, rage bubbling up. “You think this is a game to me? My husband—ex-husband—betrayed me, Roman. He’s forcing me to defend his lying ex while he plays puppet master. And now I’m dodging creeps in alleys because of *you*?”

Roman’s jaw tightens, but his eyes soften, just a fraction. “I didn’t drag you into this, Sienna. You chose to meet me. You want out? Go back to your penthouse, play the good wife. But you won’t. Because you’re done being his pawn.”

His words hit like a slap, and I hate that he’s right. I’m done with Griffon’s games, his smooth lies, his cold hands on my heart. But Roman’s no saint either. He’s a wildcard, and I’m betting my life on him. “Fine,” I say, my voice steady now. “But no more secrets. Who’s Tara, and what’s she got on Lila?”

He hesitates, glancing down the alley. A car’s headlights flash at the far end, and he pulls me behind a dumpster, his body shielding mine. His cedar scent wraps around me, and I hate how it grounds me, even now. “Tara was Nexus’s coder,” he whispers, his breath warm against my ear. “She found something—files, maybe code—tied to Lila’s kidnapping. She tried to leak it, but Nexus got to her first. I’ve been tracking her for months, but she’s a ghost.”

“A ghost?” My stomach twists. “You mean dead?”

“Maybe,” he says, his voice grim. “Or hiding. That text means they’re scared, Sienna. Scared of what we might find.”

I swallow, my throat dry. “So what now? We can’t just keep running.”

“We don’t run,” he says, his grin flashing in the dark. “We hit back. Lila’s office. Tonight. She’s got a safe—papers, maybe more audio. We get in, we get answers.”

“Break into her office?” I laugh, sharp and nervous. “You’re insane. Nexus is watching, you said so yourself.”

“Exactly.” His eyes gleam with reckless confidence. “They won’t expect us to move this fast. You in?”

My heart’s screaming no, but my gut says yes. Griffon’s face flashes in my mind—his smirk, his refusal to sign the papers, his betrayal. I’m done being his fool. “I’m in,” I say, my voice firm. “But if we get caught, you’re taking the fall.”

He chuckles, low and warm. “Deal.”

---

Lila’s office is in a sleek glass tower downtown, all chrome and arrogance. Roman picks the lock on a service entrance, his movements quick, practiced. I’m sweating despite the cold, my leather jacket sticking to my skin. Inside, the building’s quiet, the only sound our footsteps echoing on the polished floor. Lila’s firm, Moreau Consulting, occupies the top floor, and the elevator ride feels like a countdown to disaster.

“You ever done this before?” Roman whispers as we step out, the hallway dark except for the city lights filtering through the windows.

“Break and enter?” I shoot him a look. “I’m a lawyer, not a thief.”

He grins, pulling out a small tool kit. “First time for everything.”

Lila’s office door is glass, her name etched in gold. Roman works the lock while I keep watch, my heart in my throat. Every creak makes me jump, the text replaying in my mind: *You’ll end up like Tara.* The lock clicks, and we slip inside.

The office is all luxury—mahogany desk, abstract art, a view that screams power. I head for the desk, rifling through drawers, while Roman scans the walls for the safe. “Anything?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.

“Not yet,” he mutters, tapping a panel behind a painting. “She’s paranoid. It’s here somewhere.”

I find a locked drawer, my fingers trembling as I try a letter opener to pry it open. Papers spill out—contracts, emails, nothing damning. Then I see it: a folder labeled *Project Siren.* My breath catches. I open it, scanning the pages—financials, coded messages, a name circled in red: *Tara Kline.*

“Roman,” I hiss, holding up the folder. “I found something.”

He’s at my side in a second, his eyes narrowing as he reads. “Project Siren. This is it, Sienna. Nexus’s plan. Lila’s just the front.”

“What’s the plan?” I ask, my voice shaking. The numbers are huge—millions in transfers, offshore accounts. And my name, scrawled in the margin like an afterthought.

Before he can answer, a noise—footsteps, heavy and deliberate—echoes from the hall. Roman grabs my arm, pulling me behind the desk. “Stay down,” he whispers, his hand on his gun.

The door swings open, and I peek through a gap in the desk. It’s not security. It’s Griffon. His suit is immaculate, but his face is taut, eyes scanning the room. My heart stops. How did he know we were here?

“Sienna,” he says, his voice low, almost pleading. “I know you’re here. Come out. We need to talk.”

Roman’s hand tightens on my arm, his eyes warning me to stay quiet. But Griffon’s voice cuts deeper, laced with something I’ve never heard before—fear. “You don’t understand what you’re getting into,” he says, stepping closer. “Lila’s dangerous, but Nexus is worse. They’ll kill you, Sienna. Please.”

I’m shaking, torn between rage and the stupid, stubborn love I still feel for him. “You’re the one who put me in this,” I whisper, too low for him to hear. But Roman hears, his eyes softening.

“Trust me,” he mouths, nodding toward the folder. I clutch it tighter, my resolve hardening.

Griffon’s phone buzzes, and he answers, his voice sharp. “What? No, I’m handling it. Keep her out of it.” He pauses, his eyes darting to the desk. “She’s my wife, Victor. I’ll deal with her.”

Victor. Nexus’s CEO. My blood runs cold. Griffon’s working with them. Roman’s hand grips mine, steadying me, but my mind’s spiraling. Griffon’s not just hiding secrets—he’s one of them.

“Sienna,” Griffon says again, his voice breaking. “I know you hate me, but I’m trying to protect you. Come out, please. Before it’s too late.”

I want to scream, to confront him, but Roman shakes his head, his gun ready. The footsteps retreat, the door clicking shut, but I’m not relieved. Griffon’s words echo: *They’ll kill you.* And Victor’s name, tying him to Nexus, to Lila, to this whole mess.

Roman pulls me to my feet, his voice urgent. “We need to move. Now.”

“What about the safe?” I ask, clutching the folder.

“Forget it,” he says, steering me toward the door. “That folder’s enough. But Griffon’s here, which means Nexus knows. We’re not safe.”

We slip into the hall, my heart pounding as we take the stairs, the folder burning in my hands. Project Siren. Tara. My name. Griffon’s betrayal. It’s all connected, and I’m the one caught in the web.

At the service entrance, Roman checks the alley, his gun still drawn. “You okay?” he asks, his voice softer now.

“No,” I admit, my voice raw. “He’s working with them, isn’t he? Victor. Nexus.”

Roman’s jaw tightens. “Looks like it. But we’ve got proof now. We can end this.”

I nod, my throat tight. “What about Tara?”

“We find her,” he says, his eyes fierce. “She’s the only one who can blow this open.”

We step into the alley, the city’s pulse louder now, but before we can move, my phone buzzes again. Another text, unknown number: *Check the folder. Page 10.*

My hands shake as I open it, flipping to page ten. It’s a photo—me, leaving the Black Orchid, Roman’s hand on my arm. Below it, scrawled in red: *You were warned.*