Chapter 6: A Tiny Smile

The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of fresh-cut grass and blooming gardenias as Sienna made her way to the breakfast room. She had barely set foot inside the estate when Dawson, the ever-efficient butler, informed her that breakfast was already being served. 

She wasn’t sure what to expect today. After yesterday’s incident—the heated confrontation with Grayson and Lily’s barely-there laughter—she had been left wondering if she had overstepped. Maybe she had pushed too hard. Maybe she had broken something fragile. 

But when she stepped into the breakfast room and saw Lily sitting at the table, something inside her softened. The little girl wasn’t curled in on herself like before. She wasn’t staring blankly at her plate. Instead, she was watching the steam curl from her bowl of oatmeal, her small fingers fidgeting lightly on the table. 

It wasn’t much. But it was something. 

Sienna slid into the chair beside her. “Morning, sweetheart,” she greeted softly. 

Lily’s hands froze for a brief second, but then she glanced up, her gaze fleeting yet unmistakably **aware**. 

Sienna smiled, acting as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Oatmeal, huh? I have to say, that looks much better than what I had this morning.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Burnt toast.” 

Lily blinked. Then, just as quickly, she looked back at her bowl. 

Sienna didn’t push. 

Instead, she picked up a slice of toast from the serving tray, deliberately inspecting it with exaggerated skepticism. “You know, I think I might need a food critic’s opinion. What do you think? Is this a good piece of toast or a bad one?” 

Silence. 

Then—a tiny twitch of Lily’s lips. Not quite a smile. But not the blank expression she usually wore. 

Sienna’s heart gave a hopeful leap. 

She reached for a small dish of honey and drizzled a little over her toast, pretending to be in deep concentration. “Now, if I add honey, does it make it better? Or is it cheating?” She stole a glance at Lily, who was still silent but watching her now with an expression that was no longer as distant. 

And then, like a bucket of ice water, Grayson’s deep voice cut through the moment. 

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” 

Sienna sighed before turning her head to find him standing in the doorway, arms crossed, looking as rigid and imposing as ever. His piercing gray eyes flickered from her to Lily, his face unreadable. 

She took a bite of her toast, chewing thoughtfully before answering. “Conducting a very serious breakfast experiment.” 

His brow arched. “Excuse me?” 

Sienna gestured toward Lily. “Your daughter here is my expert judge. I was hoping for a professional opinion.” 

Lily ducked her head slightly, her fingers gripping the spoon in her hand. But Sienna didn’t miss the way her shoulders weren’t as hunched, how her posture wasn’t as withdrawn. 

Grayson’s eyes narrowed. “Lily doesn’t need distractions. She needs routine.” 

Sienna set down her toast with a deliberate motion, her patience thinning. “She needs laughter, Grayson. She needs moments that aren’t dictated by schedules and rules.” 

His jaw clenched. “I hired you to care for her, not undermine me.” 

“And I’m doing exactly that,” Sienna countered. “Caring for her. But you need to understand that caring isn’t just about feeding her and making sure she follows a schedule. It’s about making her feel safe. Making her feel like she can just… be.” 

Grayson’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You think I don’t want that?” 

Sienna exhaled, some of her irritation ebbing as she studied the man before her. There was something there, beneath all the sharp angles and cold words. Something that looked dangerously close to **guilt**. 

She softened her tone. “I think you do. But I also think you’re scared.” 

His entire body stiffened. “I don’t—” 

A soft sound interrupted him. 

It was faint. Almost imperceptible. 

But it was there. 

A tiny giggle. 

Both adults turned in unison. 

Lily’s head was still lowered, but this time, there was no mistaking the small, shy smile on her lips. It was fleeting—gone in a matter of seconds—but it had been **real**. 

Sienna held her breath. She didn’t dare move, didn’t dare break whatever fragile magic had just settled over them. 

Grayson, however, looked as if someone had just punched him in the chest. His normally composed features wavered, a crack forming in his carefully constructed armor. 

For the first time, he had **proof**. 

Lily could smile. She just needed the right reason to. 

The moment passed in an instant. Lily quickly returned to eating, as if nothing had happened. But the weight of that tiny, precious smile hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. 

Sienna leaned back in her chair, her gaze meeting Grayson’s. “Routine didn’t do that,” she murmured. 

He said nothing. 

But for once, he didn’t argue. 

And that was a victory in itself.