Chapter 63
Sienna's pov
His kisses were never gentle. He always bit and sucked, brutal enough to make me ache.
If he only wanted to torment me, he didn’t need to do it like this, forcing me to teeter between surrender and clarity. Why wouldn’t he let me go?
Blood spread across my tongue. Metallic. Warm. And somehow—sweet.
How long could sweetness stolen through self-harm last?
The cost of burning yourself for love was always the same: damnation.
I bit my lip hard, then snapped my leg up and drove my knee into his thigh. Harrison Blackwood flinched, and I used that split second to wrench free of his grip.
I straightened, breathing hard, and pointed at the floor between us. “Touch me again, and I’ll throw myself down right now and miscarry. Let’s see who moves faster.”
Harrison didn’t take another step.
“Would you really do that?” His voice stayed even, like he already knew my answer. “It’s your child too.”
I hated that smug certainty in him. “Try me. Because right now, the one who wants me to have this baby is you.”
The power was in my hands.
We stared at each other, neither of us moving an inch.
I wanted to leave, but I was afraid that the moment I turned, he’d drag me away again. In the dark, I couldn’t read his face. It hid everything.
I told myself he was still calm, still composed, watching me fight like a trapped animal.
When he stayed silent, I forced my voice steady. “Can you let me go?”
He didn’t answer. He lifted his foot and started toward me.
“Don’t move!”
It took the smallest shift from him to make my fear show.
“Until I’m out of this room, you don’t move,” I said, backing toward the door. “Or I won’t be afraid to miscarry.”
Harrison stopped, and I didn’t waste the chance. I just needed out.
When my fingers finally closed around the door handle, he asked, suddenly, “Do you have to be my enemy?”
His voice was hoarse, with a hitch in it, like he was swallowing something he refused to say.
A cold laugh slipped out of me. “You forced me.”
‘Harrison, I’m giving that back to you.’
Even now, I still left him a way out, shamefully, quietly, like a habit I couldn’t kill.
If he was willing to hand over Elena Whitmore and cooperate with the investigation into the Blackwood family, I could even forgive what he’d done to me.
He knew exactly what to do to make me relent.
Even now, if he would just say it—
“Fine,” he said. “Go.”
The fragile illusion shattered in an instant.
I shook my head at myself, disgusted that I’d still expected anything. Then he spoke again, his last warning following me as I opened the door.
“The child. You must give birth to him healthy.”
A crazy thought flickered through my mind.
If the baby was gone, would that be revenge?
Back in the private room, Chloe Blackwood jolted at the sight of me. “What happened to you? Your lipstick is all smudged, you—”
My eyes felt swollen, tight with heat. I touched the corner of my mouth without thinking, and the memory of that kiss slammed into me.
“It’s nothing,” I said. “Just got bitten by a dog.”
I sank back into my seat. Someone handed me a tissue, and the smeared lipstick came off in slow, careful wipes.
Some of that red was probably blood.
“Does it still hurt?” Julian Vane took out a wet tissue, his tone too soft. “I look away for a moment, and you end up like this.”
I shook my head, took the tissue from him, and ignored the meaning threaded through his words. Then I turned to Vanya Vane. “Did you get the evidence?”
Vanya nodded and sent me the photos and videos she’d taken. “This evidence isn’t enough.”
“Why not?” My voice came out sharper than I meant. “Everyone knows he’s having an affair. He even has an illegitimate child, Adrian. Isn’t that enough for a divorce?”
I was exhausted. Not just tired—hollowed out by this marriage.
“But as long as he wants to keep the marriage going,” Vanya said, expression unreadable, “they’ll probably push mediation, and you won’t be able to get a divorce.”
In the end, it still depended on Harrison.
Vanya’s gaze held mine. “There’s a way. It depends on whether you’re willing.”
“What way?” I had to be losing it. If divorcing Harrison meant stepping into something darker, I still wasn’t sure I’d stop myself.
“Recently, the Blackwood family has been in trouble,” she said. “If you can find a way to keep him busy, it’ll be easier to get a divorce.”
I understood immediately. To divert Harrison’s attention, I had to go after the Blackwoods.
And in my current state, I didn’t have that kind of ability.
Vanya turned to Julian. “What do you think?”
Just hearing his name made me hesitate. Dragging an unrelated man into this mess didn’t sit right.
“Harrison is in New Haven right now,” Julian said, voice gentle in a way that made my pulse jump. “Creating trouble for the Blackwoods in Europe isn’t difficult. As long as Ms. Price asks.”
“Even without me, you’d target the Blackwoods,” I said. “Why use this chance to sell me a favor?”
Julian placed his hands on my shoulders.
It was the first time we’d met since I moved into Vanya’s house, and his touch felt far more intimate than before. I didn’t reject him as firmly as I used to. Maybe it was his calm, his manners. Maybe it was the cost of the deal, and my willingness to pay it. Or maybe I just wanted revenge on Harrison.
“Even if Ms. Price doesn’t ask, I’ll still give him extra trouble,” Julian said, his hands steady. “So don’t feel guilty. This isn’t a favor. All of this is Harrison’s fault, isn’t it?”
Even if it meant I’d have to pay a price, I’d agree without hesitation. There was no reason to hesitate when dealing with a man who sheltered a murderer.
I asked anyway, because I needed to hear it. “Mr. Vane, what do you want from me in return for helping me?”
His hands stayed on my shoulders, not moving. Still, I felt like he was implying something.
“Helping you means opposing Harrison,” Julian said. “That’s already what I want. I’m not asking you for anything.”
It was a game where we both benefited. That didn’t make it safe.
Vanya spoke with a pointed smile. “Sienna, if you really feel guilty, you can marry Julian after the divorce.”
“That’s not funny,” Luna Reed cut in sharply. “Mr. Vane might not have much genuine affection for Sienna.”
They rarely agreed on anything, and their bluntness always collided.
“I only see Mr. Vane as a friend right now,” I said quickly.
Being with Julian? No. After the divorce, I wanted nothing to do with men like this—men with power, with hunger, with a price.
The tense air eased, and the earlier line was waved off like a joke.
In the afternoon, Luna said she had work to handle at the studio and asked me to go with her. Julian didn’t try to stop us.
As we left the private room and headed for the exit, familiar footsteps echoed behind us. I didn’t dare look back. Harrison didn’t call my name.
Instead, Elena Whitmore put on a voice of surprise and called out, “Sister!”
I didn’t respond.
Harrison stopped her, his voice flat. “Don’t bother with her.”
How convenient.
I smirked and quickened my pace, leaving this place of trouble behind.
At the studio, Luna sorted out the designs the investors had chosen, pulling them into neat piles.
“Speaking of which,” she said, tapping the top sheet, “Harrison paid quite a lot. He wouldn’t know these designs were yours, would he?”