The Maid's Triplet For The Cold Executive

Protection And Proximity

DAMON 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.