Chapter 64
Sienna's pov
The blueprints were scattered across the table, and one quick look told me the design’s inspiration and what made it work.
Voice acting and design had both started as hobbies—quiet escapes I kept to myself—and even after they began bringing in money, I never used them to show off in front of Harrison Blackwood.
'He probably has no clue.'
I’d never shown him my drafts. Not once.
And the designer name “Sterling” was just another forgettable credit in the studio.
“That’s the weird part,” Luna Reed said, scoffing as she flipped through the pages. “He invested so much in me. It can’t be because of my skills.” She laughed, sharp and bitter. “Someone like me—how would I ever catch Harrison’s eye?”
“He’s rarely wrong at work,” I said, keeping my voice steady as I gathered the papers into a neat stack. “So don’t doubt yourself. If he’s investing in you, that’s recognition.”
It wasn’t favoritism. I genuinely respected his instincts in business.
If he approved these designs, it was like he was approving me—by accident.
The thought flickered, then stung. If he ever learned I was the designer behind them, what would he think?
In his eyes, I was vain and ruthless. Not the kind of woman he ever approved of.
“Let him think what he wants,” Luna said, already moving on. “I’m not turning down money. Sienna, I’ll give you thirty percent of the commission for this project. Are you in?”
She looked dead serious.
“Your designs are distinctive,” she added. “I don’t want you overlooked.”
I had no reason to refuse.
If I wanted a place for myself in New Haven, the studio was the best platform I had. And I wasn’t divorced from Harrison. I was pregnant. No company would take that risk.
“Luna,” I said, meeting her eyes, “you too. Keep pushing.”
We stayed at the studio until late.
She drove me back to the apartment complex, and Vanya Vane opened the door half-asleep, eyes barely focused. She only relaxed once I stepped inside.
“If you didn’t come back soon,” she mumbled, “I was going to assume Harrison dragged you back to the Blackwood Estate.”
After Vanya disappeared into her bedroom, the apartment fell silent.
If Julian Vane was right—if he was really trying to make things miserable for Harrison—then my divorce might not be far off.
Should I do it?
Going against Harrison was beyond me. But if I didn’t fight for even a sliver of hope, I’d be under his control forever.
My phone rang. Victor Price.
I assumed it was about money, another demand dressed up as family, but I still underestimated how low Harrison could go.
“Sienna,” Victor barked the second I answered, “come downstairs. You’re coming back with me.”
I stared at the screen. “Are you out of your mind? I’m not going back to the Price house.”
“You don’t have a choice!” Victor snapped. “Harrison paid me ten times today’s funding to bring you back. You can’t threaten me now.”
My hand shook. I slammed the phone against the table, and it skidded to the floor.
I didn’t pick it up.
Victor’s voice blared through the speaker. “Stop throwing a tantrum. Agnes Price is still waiting for you to take care of her.”
There it was—his favorite pressure point.
“Victor,” I said, voice tight, “she’s your mother.”
How could he be that heartless?
“I’ve made myself clear,” he said. “Thirty minutes. If you’re not downstairs, I’ll find a way to deal with you.”
I stood there breathing too fast, staring at the dead screen.
'Don’t fall apart.'
Victor had already driven Nora into the grave, and now he was using Agnes’s illness to keep me obedient. My choices were the same as always: obey, or watch someone I loved pay.
“How many times have I compromised,” I whispered, “and for what?”
For threats. Again.
I didn’t have much to pack. I moved fast, hands mechanical, throat tight.
Before I left, I sent Vanya a message thanking her for looking after me these past few days.
Then I opened Harrison’s chat window.
There were barely any messages. When he wanted something, he called—or said it to my face.
Even now, I couldn’t make myself dial.
So I typed.
[Harrison, my mom is dead. She died in your house. Now do you want me to lose my grandmother too?]
I knew there’d be no reply.
I was used to it.
When I went downstairs, Victor was leaning against the car, a dark silhouette under the streetlights. Even the night couldn’t hide the ugliness in his expression.
He’d once been a father I respected. Now he didn’t even feel human.
“Thanks for coming to pick me up so late,” I said, my sarcasm bitter on my tongue.
He took my suitcase, tossed it into the trunk, and snorted. “Get in.”
No extra words.
Since I’d been kicked out of the Price family, every meeting with him ended in a screaming match. This quiet felt wrong.
I slid into the passenger seat, the leather cold against my skin.
“What did Harrison say to you?” I asked.
Victor wasn’t fighting back because of the baby. And because Harrison had told him exactly how far he could go.
Victor made a sound through his nose. “Hmph. Sienna, I didn’t expect you to have this kind of… ability.”
He didn’t show his usual disgust. His tone was pure calculation.
“He doesn’t want to divorce you,” Victor said, tapping the steering wheel, “and he wants you to have the baby. So I can’t force you the way I want. But you’d better behave. Agnes only has you willing to take care of her.”
My jaw tightened. “What do you want me to do?”
Victor and Classic Whitmore had never wanted to care for Agnes. When Nora divorced, Agnes had been the first to oppose it. She’d been disappointed in her son for a long time.
“Nothing complicated,” Victor said. “Stay at the Price house. If you want to go to the hospital to see that old woman, go anytime you want. But you are not to have any contact with the Vane family.”
I didn’t need him to say whose order it was.
That was Harrison’s message, delivered through Victor’s mouth.
If Harrison couldn’t hold me himself, he’d use my father as a leash.
I stared out the window, watching the city blur by. “Elena Whitmore drove my mom to suicide. You knew, didn’t you?”
Victor’s grip tightened for half a second, then loosened.
“She’s dead,” he said, impatient. “What’s the point of dwelling on it? Sienna, we’re still father and daughter. Let me give you advice.”
The car slowed, and the gates of the Price estate came into view.
“Hold on to what you have now,” Victor said. “Blaming the world over someone dead won’t get you anywhere.”
I pushed the door open the second we stopped and sneered. “So what if you’ve talked yourself into peace? Does that erase what you’ve done?” I leaned in, voice sharp. “Victor, I’m telling you. It’s not over between us.”
“Sienna, don’t be ungrateful.” He locked the car and looked at me like I disgusted him. “Your arrogance is just like Nora ’s. No wonder Harrison doesn’t like you.”
My hands curled into fists, nails biting into my palms.
Words didn’t change anything.
For now, I’d stay at the Price house. I’d wait until Agnes ’s condition improved, then I’d plan my next move.
Five years.
That was how long it had been since I walked through these doors.
The Price house still held the polished shell of my childhood, every corner packed with memories that used to feel warm.
Now they felt like a cruel joke.
Victor had never loved my mother. If he had, Elena Whitmore wouldn’t have existed before me.
And the question rose anyway, quiet and poisonous.
Did Harrison ever love me?
Standing inside a place that used to mean safety, I couldn’t admit the truth out loud.
It felt like my entire life had been built on an illusion.