Chapter 3

Sienna's POV

After that day, Lucian swore Chloe wouldn't show her face in front of me again, and then he vanished right along with her.

He sent proxies to cover his executive meetings and stopped coming home altogether.

I didn't care.

Soon, the day arrived for my routine check-up on the old injury.

Rain was pouring down as I drove alone to the medical center.

The shrapnel sat dangerously close to the joint capsule. The specialist gave me the exact same verdict: operating was too risky; one slip, and I'd permanently lose function in the arm.

I slid the X-rays back into my folder and walked out of the exam room.

Just as I rounded the corner of the corridor, my feet stopped dead.

By the large bay window along the connecting walkway, Lucian was holding Chloe in his arms.

"Don't worry," he was murmuring softly. "I'll stall the overseas transfer for you. Once the baby is born, I'll take care of everything."

Chloe clutched the lapel of his coat.

"What if she forces me out anyway? That woman is ruthless."

"As long as I'm here, she doesn't get the final say."

"But she controls the entire syndicate."

"The company belongs to her, but the baby in your belly is mine."

"What if she finds out?"

"So what if she does? A woman like her has nothing in her head except profit and leverage."

Chloe let out a soft laugh, resting her cheek affectionately against Lucian's chest.

I stood behind the corner of the wall, taking no further steps.

My hands hanging at my sides curled slowly into fists, my fingernails biting deep into my palms, leaving four pale crescents in the skin.

The metal inside my bone was something I took for him.

Over the past seven years, every single time I came to this hospital for a check-up, I had come alone. Not once had I asked him to hold my hand.

And in his eyes, I was just a ruthless woman who cared about nothing but profit.

I stood there for three seconds, then turned toward the stairwell and walked down the steps.

When I got home that evening, the living room lights were blazing.

Lucian, wearing an apron, emerged from the kitchen carrying dishes, two sets of silverware neatly arranged on the table.

He ladled a bowl of creamy mushroom soup for me, pulling out my chair.

"What I said at the hospital this afternoon... I was just playing along to keep her calm. I was worried she'd do something reckless to the baby. Don't take it to heart."

I stared down at the bowl of soup.

"I didn't take it to heart."

"You have to believe me, Sienna. I'm only protecting her for the sake of the child."

"I know."

The corner of my mouth twitched into a faint, hollow smirk.

He still remembered my favorite soup. He still remembered the date of my hospital check-up.

Every bit of his attentiveness had been turned into a dose of anesthesia, meant to keep me blind and numb.

Just as I picked up my spoon, my phone buzzed frantically on the tabletop.

Logan's name flashed across the caller ID.

I tapped the speaker button.

Logan's voice cut through the air, tense and urgent: "Miss Vance, Tyler Craig—the one whose left eye you shot out years ago—just got released from prison. He and his crew just snatched Miss Miller."

The soup bowl in Lucian's hand tilted, scalding liquid spilling over his knuckles, turning his skin bright red.

He shot to his feet.

"Where are they? How much money does he want?"

I cut the call from speaker and grabbed my trench coat off the rack.

"Send the coordinates to my phone."

On the rooftop of the syndicate's headquarters, the howling wind whipped our coats around us.

Tyler stood dead center on the gravel roof, the muzzle of his handgun jammed hard against Chloe's temple.

Chloe was a sobbing, trembling heap in his grip, snot and tears smearing across her face as she shook uncontrollably.

Every stairwell and elevator shaft had already been locked down tight by Logan's tactical team. Whispered updates from snipers and breach points crackled steadily through our earpieces.

Lucian and I stood on the opposite side of the roof.

The second I took half a step forward, Lucian's hand clamped down on my arm.

"Don't move. He's here for cash."

I wrenched my arm out of his grasp with a cold snap of my wrist.

Tyler's single, scarred eye locked directly onto me, brimming with venom.

"Sienna Vance. You spared my life back then, and today I'm here to collect the debt."

He shoved the barrel harder against Chloe's head, drawing a strangled whimper from her lips.

"Only one woman walks off this roof alive today. Lucian, you make the call. Pick wrong, and my hollow-points don't have eyes."

The gusting wind shredded his words into sharp fragments.

I stood rooted to the spot, completely motionless.

The hand holding the gun across from me had been locked in position for too long; Tyler's knuckles were whitening under the strain. He couldn't hold that posture indefinitely. When fatigue forced him to readjust his grip, the muzzle would inevitably dip at least half an inch.

I was waiting for that half-inch window.

And I was waiting for the man beside me to speak.

In the past, when rivals had surrounded him nine separate times, I had thrown myself directly into the line of fire every single time.

Lucian turned his head, his eyes lingering on me for what felt like an eternity.