Chapter 33
Sienna‘s pov
Harrison Blackwood stopping us today only meant one thing: he still wanted to use Nora Everly to control me.
To keep Luna Reed from interfering, he even went as far as making “the supposedly dead” Alexander Grant appear, diverting her attention.
If he truly wanted to let me go, he wouldn’t be here now.
“Did I say that?” Harrison Blackwood sneered. “After the ball, I can divorce you, provided you make me happy.”
“Now you can’t meet that condition anymore.”
His words hit me hard. I froze, my mind going blank.
With one sentence, he handed down my death sentence.
“Why?” My voice came out unsteady. “What did I do to upset you? I was only picking up my mom from the hospital and arranging a place for her to stay. Haven’t I been obedient enough?”
Harrison flicked his hand toward another car. Marcus Barnes got out and walked over, his face unreadable.
He addressed Nora with a polite tilt of his head. “Ms. Everly, please.”
“I won’t let you do this!”
I stepped in front of her. Marcus didn’t move, his gaze cold.
“Mrs. Blackwood,” he said evenly, “please don’t make this difficult. I don’t want to use force.”
I looked back at Harrison, my chest tight.
“If you hate me, take it out on me. What does my mom have to do with this?” The words poured out anyway. “Classic Whitmore broke up her family, Elena Whitmore broke up mine. You love Elena—fine, I’ll step aside. But my mom doesn’t owe you anything.”
For the first time in five years, what I felt toward the man I’d loved had a name.
Hate.
When Elena and her son, Adrian, moved in, I didn’t hate Harrison. When he treated me like a tool for his own desires, I endured it.
That was the price of five years of lying to myself.
But Nora Everly owed him nothing. He had no right to touch her.
He didn’t blink. “You deserve it.”
“You made a mistake,” he said, voice flat as stone, “and your family pays the price.”
He stepped toward me.
I stepped into him and slapped him.
“Harrison Blackwood,” I said through my teeth, “I hate you.”
The sting lit up my palm, but it wasn’t enough. I lifted my left hand, and he caught it instantly, fingers clamping down. So I swung my right—already going numb—and the second slap landed clean, leaving a fresh mark on his cheek.
Still not enough.
“You know what you look—” His grip tightened until pain flashed behind my eyes. “Disgusting.”
He pinned both my wrists with one hand and seized my chin with the other, forcing my face up until my jaw ached and I couldn’t speak.
Hatred burned in his eyes.
Only at moments like this did he really see me.
“Stop acting like the world owes you something,” he said, contempt curling every syllable. “It’s annoying.”
“Say something nice.”
His fingers traced my cheek, then my nose, slow and deliberate.
I waited for the smallest shift in his hold.
The second it loosened, I tore free and slapped him a third time with everything I had.
His head snapped to the side. When he turned back, there was blood at the corner of his mouth.
In that instant, it felt like all my anger had poured into that one strike, and my chest finally loosened.
I tilted my head. “It’s my honor to disgust you.”
“Mr. Blackwood!” Marcus had been watching, unsure whether to step in.
I was reckless today. Three slaps. I might as well have been asking to die.
“Take her away,” Harrison said, calm as ever.
I spun, trying to stop Nora from being led away, but she looked straight at Harrison and spoke before I could.
“I’ll go with you,” she said. “If you let Sienna Price go.”
“Mom!” I shook my head hard, but she cut me off.
“I can be your leverage against Sienna,” she said, steady and clear. “But my condition is that you treat her well. Don’t let Classic Whitmore’s family bully her.”
She gave me a look meant to steady me. “This is the only thing I can do for you.”
“Sienna,” she said softly, “you endured for me for five years. Now I just want you to live a better life.”
“Remember what I told you.”
I couldn’t fight this.
Harrison had both of us trapped.
“As long as she behaves.” Harrison signaled to Marcus. “Take her.”
“No!”
I lunged for my mother’s hand, but Harrison grabbed me and lifted me off my feet, hauling me into the back seat of his car. He climbed in after me, and the seat reclined under his hand, forcing me down.
He leaned over me, braced on either side, impatience cutting through his voice. “Satisfied?”
“If anything happens to my mom,” I said, staring up at him, “I’ll make the entire Blackwood family pay.”
“You have no right to declare war on me.”
He looked down at me with cold contempt, and something like confusion.
“I warned you repeatedly to stay away from Julian Vane,” he said. “Did you think I was joking?”
He leaned closer. “This is the result of your actions.”
I laughed, bitter and hollow.
When someone wants to condemn you, any excuse will do.
In Harrison’s eyes, Elena Whitmore’s words were truth, and mine were lies. Facts didn’t matter. Only what he decided to believe.
So what was the point of me refusing to help Julian Vane go after him?
Nothing. I’d only fooled myself.
“What will it take for you to let me go?” I asked.
The answer always changed. One moment he refused to divorce me, the next he dangled it like bait.
“You have no chance.”
He pulled the seatbelt across me and adjusted the seat back upright.
Click.
The buckle locked, and the sound felt like a shackle snapping shut around my life.
“The taste of you,” he said, a wicked curve to his mouth, “is something I can’t get enough of.”
“Get lost!” I swung again, but he caught both my hands, his eyes darkening.
“You slapped me three times today,” he said. “How do you plan to apologize?”
He forced my wrists together. “Don’t make me tie you up.”
I shut my eyes and stopped fighting.
Nora’s words echoed in my skull.
“Don’t follow in my footsteps.”
I didn’t want to. But Harrison kept me bound to him, and I couldn’t see a way out.
Back home, everything was the same.
He didn’t seem worried about me getting pregnant, pushing me past exhaustion every night.
Then, on the afternoon of the ball, Martha Wilson came in with a new dress.