Chapter 104
Sienna's pov
Alexander’s face was twisted with anger, but with Harrison in the room, he held back from saying anything too harsh.
I decided to leave it there and let Harrison take me upstairs to his room. He shut the door behind us with controlled precision, and the quiet that followed felt heavy, like he’d brought the rest of the house up with us.
He asked, “Do you want Luna to come stay here?”
I blinked, startled that he was actually considering it. Harrison didn’t usually invite other people into his orbit unless he could predict every consequence.
“We should ask her first,” I said. “Having her around might lift my mood.”
Even as I said it, I felt the catch underneath. I didn’t want Luna involved. With Alexander still here, she wouldn’t have a good time, and neither would I.
A knock cut in.
Martha stood at the doorway, her face drawn. “Mr. Blackwood, the Blackwood Villa called. Ms. Whitmore’s condition has deteriorated, and they’re asking you to come see her.”
She hesitated, then added, “Mrs. Catherine Blackwood also said Adrian misses you and hopes you can take him back to stay with you.”
“Leave.”
Harrison’s voice snapped, his expression turning dark. “Haven’t I told you? You don’t need to tell me about these things anymore.”
“But…” Martha’s mouth opened and closed. She didn’t look defiant, only trapped.
I sat up straighter. “What’s going on? Tell me.”
The Blackwood family’s mess shouldn’t be shoved onto Martha’s shoulders, especially when she’d always taken care of me. And Harrison—silent or not—made the room feel like it belonged to him alone.
Martha’s hesitation scraped at my patience. “Stop stalling.”
Under normal circumstances she wouldn’t disobey him. Which meant Catherine had ordered her.
Martha finally forced the words out. “Mrs. Catherine Blackwood said that if you refuse, it would be best to bring Mrs. Sienna Blackwood to the Blackwood Villa temporarily. Mr. Arthur Blackwood is gravely ill and doesn’t want to spend his final days in chaos.”
The sentence hit wrong, like a door slamming in the middle of a dream. Arthur—gravely ill? The last I’d heard, his health was poor, but not urgent, not final.
Harrison’s eyes sharpened.
“Gravely ill?” His calm sounded dangerous. “Why wasn’t I told earlier?”
A grim smile touched his mouth. “Grandpa was hospitalized, and I arranged for someone to monitor him daily. If anything happened, I was to be notified immediately. So what’s going on?”
Martha’s hands trembled. “I… I don’t know. Mrs. Blackwood asked me to relay the message…”
“You can go,” Harrison said. “I’ll talk to Catherine later.”
He said Catherine, not Mother, and it landed like a quiet fracture. Something in that family was shifting, and I could feel the pull of it even from here.
After Martha left, the room loosened by a fraction. Harrison went to the wardrobe and pulled out clothes for me, even underwear, setting them in my arms with brisk efficiency.
“Get washed up,” he said. “Don’t worry about anything else.”
He still wanted to keep me away from it, to keep me out of whatever Catherine was arranging. I held the clothes and asked softly, “Are you planning to handle Arthur’s situation alone too?”
Arthur had treated me well. If he was truly that sick, I needed to see him.
Maybe my tone softened Harrison’s edges, because his face looked tired for a moment instead of cold. “I’ll try to keep you out of it,” he said.
Then he stepped closer and ruffled my hair, a gesture so intimate it felt misplaced. “Maybe… I should have kept you away from me sooner.”
My chest tightened. I lowered my gaze, refusing to show him how much it still moved me.
“Glad to know,” I said, forcing dryness into my voice.
I went into the bathroom and locked the door. The shower hissed to life, and through the water I heard the faint click of the outer door closing.
He’d left again.
That night, Harrison didn’t return. Martha told me he was staying at the Blackwood Villa. I nodded, unsurprised, and before bed I texted Luna that I wanted her to come stay with me.
Her reply came fast. “Are you serious? You want me to live with you? Aren’t you afraid I’ll wreck your house?”
She’d suggested it before and I’d refused, back when I still pretended my relationship with Harrison had boundaries I could rely on.
“Go ahead,” I typed. “Cause trouble. Alexander’s here too. Feel free to bother him—I’ve been annoyed with him for a while.”
Luna accepted immediately. Then she added, “I’m moving my business overseas. Once everything is settled, I’m not planning to keep expanding here.”
I paused. “No wonder you’ve been quiet lately. Are you really not returning? The Lynn Villa has a lot of things that belong to you.”
“They’re just things,” she replied. “My mom’s gone, and she wanted me to live happily. Why should I be held down by objects?”
A beat later: “Sienna, you should prepare to leave too. Come with me. Revenge can wait. Right now I want you to live well.”
I stared at the screen until my eyes stung. “I get it,” I typed back. “But my situation is different.”
My grudge with the Price family wasn’t only about Victor, and the loose ends in my life didn’t end where I wished they would. Leaving might buy me air, but it wouldn’t buy me answers.
“I won’t meddle,” Luna wrote. “Just call me if you need anything—if you still consider me a friend.”
“I do,” I sent back.
The next day I told Harrison Luna was moving in. He agreed without asking questions, as if who shared this estate didn’t matter as long as I stayed inside it. Soon Blackwood Estate had one more person and one more point of friction.
Luna’s main purpose was clear: annoy Alexander and keep an eye on me. I didn’t need much watching, but Alexander took the hits. Every few days Luna would needle him with questions he couldn’t answer. He had a fiancée now, and when she pressed him about it, he couldn’t deny it, yet he couldn’t admit it openly either.
So he retreated, again and again, into his room, carrying his frustration like a shield.
After a week, once Alexander confirmed I was in good health, he practically fled the estate. I watched his car disappear down the drive and felt relief I didn’t bother to disguise.
“Coward,” Luna said. “If he had any guts, he’d face me. Getting engaged and refusing to say it out loud just proves he’s guilty.”
“Isn’t this good?” I let out a short laugh. “He’s like Harrison—never admits he’s wrong and insists it’s my fault.”
Luna’s teasing faded. She studied me, then lowered her voice. “Actually, Sienna, I have an idea that could help you leave Harrison, but you’d have to give up everything you have now.”