Chapter 3

• Sienna stood totally blank in the doorway with her phone in her hand. Her eyes were completely fixed on the message.
• Your father’s death wasn’t an accident.
• She didn’t move. Her body froze entirely , like someone had hit pause. Her fingers went numb. She read the words again, over and over. They didn’t change.
• It didn’t make sense at all.
• Her father had been sick for months. He could barely walk. He could barely talk. She’d seen the way his body gave up on him, little by little. And now someone was saying it wasn’t natural? That it wasn’t just his illness?
• Her heart sank. Her mouth went dry.
• She started typing without thinking. Who is this? What do you mean? She hit send.
• No reply.
• She kept staring at the screen, waiting for the typing bubble to appear. Nothing. It was like yelling into a tunnel and hearing nothing new back.
• Her mind started processing the whole situation. If it wasn’t the illness… what was it? Who would even say something like that?
• She looked up at the house. She was supposed to go back inside. Adrian was in there, waiting. Watching. He always watched her.
• She walked in, forcing her feet to move. But it felt like her legs were made of stone. Her thoughts were loud and messy, running in circles. Her hand was shaking. She tightened her grip on the phone so she wouldn’t drop it.
• The house was quiet. Too quiet.
• No staff. No movement. No dinner is being made. No sounds of footsteps or clinking dishes. Just silence.
• She stepped further in and felt something shift. The silence wasn’t peaceful. It was heavy. Like the house knew something she didn’t. Like it was waiting for something to happen.
• She found Adrian in the living room. He stood facing the opposite direction, staring at his phone. His jaw was tight. His whole body looked tense. Like he was angry or ready to fight. He didn’t turn around, but she knew he heard her come in.
• “I hope you’re done with your little show.”
• She stared at him. “You’re the one playing games.”
• He turned. His eyes were cold. “I’m not playing anything. You are.”
• She stepped closer. “Well, if you’re talking about the wedding, then that’s completely fine, whatever. But there’s something I need to ask you.”
• He said nothing.
• “It’s about my father,” she said.
• He looked at her, and for a second—just one second—something shifted in his eyes. A flash of recognition. Guilt? Fear? She didn’t know. But it was something.
• “What about him?”
• “I just got a message,” she said, lifting her phone. “It said his death wasn’t an accident.”
• His face didn’t change. His voice stayed calm. “You need to let that go.”
• Let it go?
• He said it like it meant nothing. Like her father’s life and his death, all of it was something to toss aside and forget.
• She stared at him. “No. I’m not going to just let it go.”
• Adrian stepped closer. “You don’t need to understand everything.”
• She held her ground. “Then tell me what I do need to understand. Because right now, it feels like I’m in the middle of something I don’t even know how to fight.”
• His eyes darkened. “All you need to do is play your part.”
• “And what part is that?” she snapped. “Standing next to you and smiling like this marriage is real? Is that it? Being a puppet while you pull the strings?”
• His expression cracked for just a second. Regret? Maybe. But it vanished fast.
• He looked at her like she was a problem or puzzle he wasn’t able to figure out. “You stay in line,” he said. “You do what you’re told.”
• She felt her heart racing. She was sick of this. Of him controlling everything. Of him treating her like she didn’t matter.
• “What if I don’t?”
• Adrian didn’t flinch. “Then you’ll regret it.”
• The words hit like a slap.
• Her gut completely dropped. She didn’t know what he meant. But the way he said it—it felt real. Like he meant every word.
• She didn’t respond. She didn’t have to.
• Because then her phone buzzed again.
• She looked down.
• If you want the truth, meet me tomorrow. 10 PM. The warehouse on 5th and East End.
• Her fingers froze. Her chest felt tight again.
• Warehouse. 10 PM.
• She didn’t know who sent it. She didn’t know what they’d tell her. But something inside her said, go. She had to.
• The phone slipped from her hand and hit the floor.
• Adrian’s head snapped toward her. “Who’s that?”
• She bent down and picked up the phone. “It’s nothing.”
• He didn’t believe her. She could tell by the way his eyes narrowed.
• “Nothing?” he asked.
• She forced her voice to stay calm. “Just a random text. Spam. Doesn’t matter.”
• He stared at her. “You’re lying.”
• She didn’t answer.
• He stepped closer. “You’re not going anywhere tomorrow night.”
• That did it.
• The way he said it. Like he had the right to control her. To trap her here. To keep her from the truth.
• Her jaw tightened. “I’ll do whatever I want.”
• He smirked, but without any sympathy.
• “We’ll see about that.”
• And then he walked away.
• The sound of the door closing behind him left her standing alone in the room.
• She looked down at her phone again. Her hand still trembled. The message was still there. Waiting.
• Her thumb hovered over the screen.
• This could be a trap.
• What if it was Adrian? What if he was testing her? Or worse—what if someone was using her father’s death to pull her into something dangerous?
• She thought about the way Adrian’s eyes flickered when she mentioned her father.
• He knew something. She was sure of it.
• She couldn’t ignore this. If she didn’t go, she’d never get another chance.
• She started typing.
• I’ll be there.
• She hit send.
• And once she did, she knew—there was definitely no turning back now.
• It was too late.