Chapter Twenty-six
832 Words
Chapter Twenty-Six
The silence in the study was deafening. Damien’s order still hung in the air like a blade:
“Out.”
The guards obeyed instantly, boots echoing against the polished floor as they filed out. The mysterious woman didn’t rush. She rose from her chair with deliberate grace, smirking as if she’d already won. As she passed Sienna, she leaned close enough to whisper, her breath brushing Sienna’s ear.
“Still hiding, little dove? He’ll find out eventually.”
Sienna’s spine went rigid. Her breath hitched, but she stayed frozen, her nails digging crescents into her palms.
Damien’s eyes flicked to her, catching the subtle flinch. His jaw tightened. He didn’t miss anything.
The door shut behind the woman, leaving only the two of them. For a moment, the silence was thick enough to choke on. Then Damien moved—fast. He crossed the distance between them in three long strides, his hand closing firmly around her wrist.
“With me.” His tone left no room for argument.
Sienna’s pulse spiked. “Damien—”
“Now.”
He didn’t yank hard, but his grip was unrelenting, dragging her down the hall with a predator’s focus. The men stationed outside stepped aside instantly, eyes lowered, as though the intensity rolling off their boss was too dangerous to look at directly.
The moment the bedroom door shut behind them, Damien released her. The slam rattled the frame, and Sienna stumbled back a step.
When she looked up, he was already facing her, his eyes like fire trapped in ice.
“You know her.”
It wasn’t a question. It was an accusation. A demand.
Sienna’s lips parted. She wanted to speak, but fear locked her throat.
Damien stepped closer, the force of his presence pinning her in place. “Don’t you dare lie to me. I saw the look in your eyes, Sienna. You recognized her.”
Her heart pounded painfully against her ribs. “It’s…not that simple.”
“That’s not an answer.” His voice was razor-sharp. “You think I can protect you while you keep me in the dark? You think I can fight shadows I don’t know exist?”
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them back, shaking her head. “It’s my past, Damien. Mine. And it has nothing to do with you.”
His hand shot out, catching her chin, tilting her face up to his. His grip wasn’t cruel, but it was unyielding, his thumb pressing against her jaw. His gaze searched hers, dark and furious and desperate.
“Everything about you has to do with me,” he growled. “Don’t you get it? You’re mine, Sienna. Your past, your present, your future—it’s all mine.”
Her breath hitched, but still, she couldn’t. She couldn’t say it. If he knew—if he looked at her with disgust, with disappointment—she didn’t think she could survive it.
So she stayed silent.
Damien waited. One second. Two. Three. The air between them vibrated with tension. His grip on her chin loosened, his eyes darkening with something worse than fury. Disappointment.
Finally, he let go. The space where his touch had been burned.
“Fine.” His voice was low, controlled, like a blade sliding back into its sheath. “Keep your secrets.”
Sienna’s stomach dropped.
Damien straightened his cuffs with sharp, precise movements, his mask sliding firmly back into place. “But don’t expect me to sit blind while enemies circle you. If you won’t give me the truth, I’ll find it myself.”
Her throat tightened. “Damien, please—”
“Don’t.” He turned his back to her, the dismissal clear.
The coldness in his voice cut deeper than any shouted fury. She would have preferred his rage—his roaring, his fire—because at least then she could feel him reaching for her. But this silence? This distance? It was worse.
When the door shut behind him, the echo reverberated in her chest.
Sienna sank onto the edge of the bed, her hands shaking as she pressed them to her face. The room suddenly felt too large, too empty without him.
She hadn’t realized how much she relied on the weight of his presence until it was gone.
And for the rest of the night, she sat there in silence, waiting for footsteps that never came.
The next morning
The mansion’s dining hall was quiet, the long table gleaming under the light of the chandelier. Sienna sat at one end, her breakfast untouched, while Damien sat at the other, a newspaper in his hand.
Neither spoke.
The clink of silverware from the servants was the only sound. Damien’s eyes never once lifted to hers, though she found herself staring at him more times than she could count.
The distance stretched like an endless gulf between them.
And though they were only feet apart, it felt like miles.
- Writer
