The city lights shimmered against the windows of the penthouse, casting soft glows across the living room. Sienna stood barefoot, wrapped in a chunky cardigan, staring out at the skyline with a glass of water in her hand. The apartment was quiet again—too quiet.
Damien hadn't returned yet.
He said he'd be back for dinner, but hours had passed. She told herself not to care. Not to check the time. Not to wonder what kept him.
But she did all three.
She set the glass down and turned to the couch. Her phone buzzed just as she picked it up.
Damien: Running late. I'll explain when I get back. You don't have to wait up.
Sienna frowned. The message was short. Formal. Nothing like the man who tucked notes beside her coffee or remembered how she liked her eggs. Her fingers hovered over the screen for a second before she typed.
Sienna: Okay.
She didn't send it. Instead, she tossed the phone aside and headed to her room.
But sleep didn't come easily.
Her mind kept circling. Was she imagining the shift? Or had something changed after their talk? Maybe she'd made it weird by not saying more. Maybe she'd made him feel something he didn't want to feel.
Just as she pulled the blanket over her, she heard the front door open.
Her heart raced.
She sat up, then waited.
A minute passed.
Then footsteps.
Then a soft knock on her bedroom door.
"Sienna?" Damien's voice was low.
She pushed the blanket aside and walked to the door, opening it slowly.
He stood there, looking more tired than usual, his tie loosened and his hair slightly messy like he'd run a hand through it too many times.
"I didn't mean to wake you," he said.
"You didn't."
They stared at each other.
Then, without a word, Damien stepped inside.
He walked to the window, hands in his pockets. "There's something I want to tell you," he said. "But I don't know how."
Sienna crossed her arms, watching him carefully. "Try."
He turned to her, eyes shadowed with something unreadable. "I was with my father. He showed up out of nowhere. Started talking about business, reputation, headlines. He thinks this engagement is a distraction. A joke."
She felt her stomach twist. "And what do you think?"
Damien's eyes snapped to hers. "I think it's the first time I've felt something real in years."
The words stole her breath.
He stepped closer. "You've been honest with me, more than anyone has in a long time. You've challenged me. Seen me. That matters, Sienna. You matter."
Her throat tightened. "Then why are you pulling away?"
"Because I'm afraid." His voice cracked slightly. "Afraid that this thing between us... it started as a lie. And I don't know how to turn it into the truth without risking everything."
She took a step forward, heart hammering. "Damien..."
He reached out, brushing her cheek with his knuckles. "Tell me to stop."
She didn't.
His hand slipped around her waist, pulling her gently against him. Their foreheads touched. His breath mingled with hers.
Still, she didn't move.
"You're not pretending now, are you?" she whispered.
His lips ghosted over hers. "Not even a little."
And then he kissed her.
Slowly.
Deeply.
Like he was tasting every bit of truth between them.
It wasn't rushed. It wasn't planned. But it was inevitable.
Her arms wrapped around his neck, and for the first time, Sienna didn't hold back.
This wasn't about proving something.
This was about finally admitting the truth.