3
Sienna’s POV
By the time evening rolled around, the house felt different. Colder, maybe. Or maybe it was just him.
Nathaniel hadn’t spoken to me since he f****d me against the fridge and walked away. He left me dripping, wrecked, and utterly satisfied, but the way he disappeared afterward made something tight coil in my stomach. It wasn’t regret. It wasn’t shame. It was frustration.
I wanted him to admit that I had a hold on him. That he wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended to be. That was the real game we were playing, and I wasn’t about to lose.
***
I was in my room, brushing my hair, when he finally knocked once and pushed the door open. He had changed into a sleek, dark suit, his tie loosened just enough to tease at the casual dominance he carried so naturally.
“Get dressed.
