Chapter 29
Sienna‘s pov
Tonight, Harrison gave me a glimpse of the past.
For a moment, it felt like we were newlyweds again, with him attentive in that careful way that made the world seem less sharp. Five years could change almost everything, yet no matter how hard I tried to bury what I felt, his occasional tenderness still had the power to drag it back to the surface.
I loved him. I couldn’t lie to myself about that, and I certainly couldn’t lie to him.
That was exactly why he dared to act however he wanted, certain I wouldn’t leave. Tonight, when he said he’d let me go, I knew it was probably just a test.
The nightlight was still on when I checked the time. Past one.
The space beside me was cold. Harrison had been gone for a while.
He’d promised Elena he’d help her with a dress fitting. He’d been late getting to her, which meant he probably spent a long time making it up to her. I got up and went to the wardrobe. The evening gown hung neatly on the door, untouched, unwrinkled, as if nothing in this house ever dared fall out of place.
“Just get through the ball,” I told myself.
As for him actually letting me go afterward, I didn’t fully believe it. Still, I wasn’t going to give him an excuse to change his mind.
I took out my phone and texted Julian, telling him I wouldn’t be going to Vane Sound to record before the ball.
To my surprise, he replied quickly.
[Alright. We’ll continue after the ball.]
No pushback. No conditions. If I ignored the obvious possibility that he was using me, Julian Vane was almost annoyingly easy to deal with. I didn’t respond. I was trying to put distance between us, and replying felt like the wrong direction.
Then another message came in.
[Ms. Price, I’ve been thinking about something. About your mother.]
[She can be discharged soon. Are you planning to bring her back to the Blackwood Estate, or find somewhere else?]
My fingers went stiff around the phone. The memories came fast—debt collectors, slammed doors, Harrison’s low threats, my mother’s pale face against a hospital pillow. Going back to the Blackwoods or to Victor Price’s house was impossible, but the Blackwood Estate was worse. I would not let my mother anywhere near Elena.
But if I found somewhere else, I wouldn’t be able to watch over her. The thought made my stomach twist.
Before I could figure out how to answer, Julian sent another message.
[Why not hear my suggestion?]
Then, almost immediately:
[The Estate isn’t practical. If you place her elsewhere, you’ll worry. If you trust me, she can stay at my place.]
The offer flashed through my mind like lightning—bright, tempting, and dangerous. I couldn’t hold onto it for even a second without seeing the cost.
Absolutely not.
If my mother stayed with the Vanes, she would become leverage in whatever war was quietly unfolding between Julian and Harrison, and I would be handing them a weapon wrapped in gratitude.
[Thank you, Mr. Vane. You’ve already helped me a lot. I’ll handle it myself.]
Julian was smart; he wouldn’t miss the deliberate distance in that formality. He didn’t argue. He just reminded me to pick my mother up in a week.
With nowhere else to turn, I opened Luna’s chat.
She hadn’t texted since we parted earlier tonight.
[Luna, my mom gets discharged in a week. Can she stay with you for now? You’re the only person I trust.]
I didn’t expect her to still be awake, but her reply came right away.
[Of course. She can stay as long as she needs. What about you? What did that bastard Harrison do to you? I didn’t dare text—you know he’d use it against you.]
So she’d been waiting.
Guilt hit me hard, sharp and immediate.
[He won’t kill me. Don’t worry.]
[Thank you for taking care of my mom. It’s late—go to sleep.]
After a beat, she sent a sleepy emoji.
[Bedtime wish: my Sienna gets the hell out of that house soon. Good night.]
Something in my chest loosened a little. At least for tonight, I pushed Harrison out of my mind and let the darkness take me.
The next morning, Harrison wasn’t in the living room when I came downstairs.
Elena was already dressed for work. She hooked her arm through mine as if we were close. “Let’s go, Sienna.”
I slipped my arm free without looking at her and walked out.
Her voice chased me from behind, bright with impatience. “Don’t get too smug. Soon I’ll take your place.”
I’d heard variations of that line from her and Victor more times than I could count. I didn’t stop.
“Do it first,” I said, and kept walking.
Why waste breath arguing over something that hadn’t happened? I held onto the title of Harrison’s wife for one reason—dignity. If Elena ever truly managed to take it, maybe I’d finally let myself go, too.
We arrived at the studio early. Not a single employee was in sight.
But someone else was already there.
Classic Whitmore.
Elena’s voice turned sweet. “Mom! Why are you here so early? You didn’t even tell me.”
Classic was Victor Price’s current wife—the former mistress, the woman who helped dismantle my family without blinking. She looked polished in expensive clothes, flawless makeup, and the kind of calm that came from never feeling guilt.
“I brought you food,” she said, lifting a lunchbox. “And this.”
She handed Elena a bag of medicine, speaking as if I weren’t standing there.
“Fertility supplements. Take them for a few weeks. If you time it right, you’ll get pregnant.”
Elena’s cheeks pinked as she ducked her head, playing shy with practiced ease.
I turned toward my office, refusing to watch.
Classic’s voice cut through the room before I reached the door. “Sienna. Sign the divorce papers and get out of Elena’s way. Our patience is limited. If you do it now, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”
I didn’t look back. I’d heard this script too many times, only the speaker changing as the months dragged on.
“Refuse,” she continued, sharper now, “and I have ways to make you and Nora wish you were dead.”
My mother’s name in her mouth stopped me cold.
I turned around, picked up the half-full cup of water from a nearby table, and walked back across the room with my pulse loud in my ears. Without hesitation, I threw it in Classic’s face.
“Don’t you dare say her name,” I said, my voice flat with something colder than anger.
Classic gasped. Elena screamed, dropped everything, and slapped me hard across the cheek.
“Who do you think you are?” she hissed. “Without Harrison, you’re nothing!”
My face burned where she’d hit me, but I didn’t move.
“Maybe,” I said, forcing my voice steady. “But I’m still his legal wife. And no matter how you dress it up, it won’t change what you two are.”
Employees began filtering in through the entrance, their footsteps slowing as they registered the scene. I turned toward my office.
Behind me, Elena’s expression reset in less than a second—eyes shining, voice trembling on cue, wounded innocence sliding neatly into place.
“Sienna,” she said, soft and broken just enough to sell it, “I only wanted to talk. It’s all my fault, but why would you do that to my mother?”