Chapter 69
Sienna's pov
It feels like after all the twists and turns, I’ve ended up back at the beginning—right where I was when Elena first moved into the Blackwood Estate.
She’s still smug. I’m still left with nothing.
Nora is gone, and I don’t know how much longer Agnes will stay with me.
Then a dull ache blooms low in my abdomen and creeps upward until my chest tightens. I press a palm there, trying to breathe through it.
'This child stays.'
Victor was right about one thing. Only if I have this baby will I have any leverage when Harrison comes back.
Worst case, I give him the child, take the money, and leave New Haven.
Once I accept that, my breathing steadies. I look up at Agnes asleep in the hospital bed, her face soft, her lips faintly curved.
Let her have that dream.
That evening, someone from the Price family delivers my luggage.
One suitcase. That’s all. There’s nothing left worth taking.
Kicked out again—just like five years ago. Only now, I can’t even afford to numb myself.
Late at night, I fold what little I own into the drawer and lie on the fold-out bed in the ward, staring at the ceiling until my eyes burn.
Luna messages again and again, but I can’t answer. I let the screen go dark.
So be it.
By the next morning, Luna shows up in person, dragging Vanya and Julian with her like a storm that finally found its target.
“Sienna!” she snaps. “What the hell is going on? You couldn’t send one message?”
She’s angry, but her voice wobbles. “Didn’t I tell you? If you need help, you tell me. Do you even still think of me as a friend?”
I turn toward her slowly, lips pressed tight. I have too much to say and no way to say it without breaking.
Vanya’s gaze drops to the suitcase by the wall. She frowns. “Is that yours? Weren’t you back with the Price family? What happened?”
“Victor kicked me out again,” I say, and a bitter laugh slips out before I can stop it.
I look back at Agnes’s breathing and stop there. If I explain, I have to admit how stupid I was—how I let Victor pull me back in with promises I should’ve known were lies.
Trusting someone who already hurt me only bought me one more abandonment.
'My fault.'
The slap lands before I can flinch.
Heat explodes across my cheek. For a second my mind goes empty, like the sound knocked everything loose.
Luna’s hand trembles in the air, her palm already red. She looks furious—and scared, like she’s watching me sink and can’t stand it.
“Sienna Price,” she says, voice shaking, “wake up.”
I stare at her, stunned. She doesn’t look away.
“This is not the time to rot,” she hisses. “If you hate them, hit back. If you need money, we figure it out. Borrow from us. Take my money and never pay it back—I don’t care. But do something, because you standing there like you’re already dead is not happening.”
My throat tightens until swallowing hurts.
I push to my feet too fast and the room tilts. “Sorry,” I manage. “I… I need a minute.”
Then I slip past them before anyone can stop me and bolt into the hallway.
The hospital lights blur. My footsteps echo off the walls. I keep turning toward quieter corridors until I reach a stairwell, cold and hollow.
No one.
The door clicks shut behind me and whatever’s holding me together snaps.
I slide down the wall, knees drawn in, and cry hard. Ugly. Loud. Like my body has been waiting for permission.
If I’d stopped Elena from meeting Agnes yesterday. If I could make more money. If I wasn’t so easy for Harrison to control. Then I wouldn’t be trapped like this. I wouldn’t have to bow my head for Agnes’s sake.
My hands shake. My stomach knots.
'No more hiding.'
I don’t get to fall apart forever. Not now.
I have to submit the divorce evidence before Harrison returns—because if I wait, he’ll slam every door shut.
“At least,” I whisper, “it’s not too late.”
“Ms. Price,” a man’s voice says softly, “have I not done enough?”
I jerk my head up.
Julian Vane stands on the stairs above me, one hand on the railing. I don’t know how long he’s been there.
My eyes are blurred with tears, but his tone is steady. Almost gentle.
Concern?
I swallow a laugh that tastes sharp. “Why are you here?” My voice scrapes. “To laugh at me?”
Julian steps down until he’s only a step away. He pulls out a tissue, crouches, and wipes at my face with careful, unhurried strokes.
“I don’t think it’s funny,” he says.
He doesn’t yank me up. He doesn’t crowd me. That restraint feels dangerous in its own way.
“How many times do I have to tell you,” he says quietly, “I’ll always be on your side.”
Always comes with a price. It has to.
“If I have no value to you,” I ask, voice raw, “would you still help me?”
Julian’s mouth tips into a small smile, but there’s no mockery in it. “I can help you without expecting anything in return,” he says. “Do you really think everything I do is for my own benefit?”
Then he looks at me and adds, softer, “Can’t it be that I care about you?”
The words hit like a shot. My breath catches. I can’t even fake a response.
“Maybe I should’ve said it earlier,” he continues. “Sienna… I really like you. Not for any gain.”
No speech. No pretty packaging. Just that.
I force out, “You… like me?”
And what flashes through my head isn’t comfort. It’s Harrison’s face, cold and unreadable, and the sick question of whether he ever said anything like that to me—whether I forgot, or whether it never happened.
“Don’t believe me?” Julian says, matter-of-fact.
Then he lifts me, one arm under my knees, the other behind my back.
Panic spikes. Being carried is too intimate. Too close. “Julian—”
“It’s fine if you don’t believe me,” he says calmly. “We can take it slow. First we’ll get Agnes treated. Then I’ll help you divorce. And then we’ll get engaged—”
“Stop!” I shove at his shoulder, shaking. “Julian, I’m going to pretend you didn’t say any of that today. Don’t say it again.”
Because warmth offered when I’m this desperate can ruin me. And I can’t tell how much of this is real, and how much is about Harrison.
Julian pauses, then nods. “Alright,” he says. “I won’t.”
He sets me down and even steps back, giving me space. “Be careful,” he adds, glancing at the steps. “The floor is slippery.”
I’m drained. I lean against the stairwell door for a moment, breathing until my legs stop trembling, and then I walk back to the ward with him.
Vanya looks at us, surprised, but she doesn’t speak. She only points toward the room. “Agnes is awake, Sienna, you…”
“I’m fine.” I pull in a deep breath and force a clean smile. “Thank you. All of you.”
Luna is already beside Agnes, talking bright and steady, like she can hold the whole room up with her voice alone. Agnes’s eyes are open—tired, but present.
I step to the bedside and freeze, words caught behind my teeth. I’ve hidden too much from her. I don’t know how to start.
Luna jumps in, fast. “Agnes, don’t get upset, okay? That would only make certain people happy. Don’t worry—we’re going to take good care of Sienna. I’m Luna Reed. You can trust me.”
Then she nudges my arm, hard enough to sting. “And you,” she mutters, “stop carrying everything alone. We’re all here.”
I nod, because if I speak, I’ll break again.
I look at Agnes’s face, at the warmth still there despite everything, and keep my smile in place even though it hurts.
“Yes, Grandma,” I say softly. “Look at me… I’m doing just fine, right?”