The silence that follows Noah’s stunned whisper is short-lived. “That’s no way to greet your mother, boy,” Mrs. Emily King says, her voice carrying the kind of authority that demands attention. She steps further into the room, her poise commanding. Her aura is regal, her tailored coat perfectly framing her lithe figure. If not for the faint lines etched near her eyes, it would be impossible to guess her age. Noah is the spitting image of her, with the only noticeable difference being his eye color.Noah doesn’t hesitate. He strides forward and wraps her in a firm embrace, the rare softness in his expression reserved only for her. Emily smiles, patting his back, though her movements are brisk, as though affection is a transaction she’s unpracticed in giving. “You could’ve given me a heads-up,” Noah says, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. “I would’ve sent someone to pick you up.” She arches a brow, an amused glint in her eye. “So you could come up with excuses for why I s
Noah leans against the doorframe for a moment, watching her. Guilt claws at him—he couldn’t stop his mother from hurting her, couldn’t shield her from the verbal attack she never deserved. Has been lenient in stopping Aurora from her mischievous acts.“Sienna,” he says softly, stepping inside. Her head snaps up, her tear-streaked face looking up at him. “I didn’t ask for this, Noah. I didn’t want any of it. All I wanted was to be left alone, to live my life without... without all this chaos.” “I know,” he murmurs, crossing the room. He kneels in front of her, his hands resting on her knees. “And I’m sorry. For her, for everything.” Sienna shakes her head, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “She hates me. She’ll always hate me. And maybe… maybe she’s right. Maybe I don’t belong here, in your life. Maybe I should put a stop to all this nonsense and disappear."“No.” His protests leave no room for doubt. He takes her hands in his. “You belong here. With me. And I don’t care what
Noah has barely left when the door opens again. Sienna looks up, surprised, thinking he might have come back inside. But when she turns, her eyes meet an unexpected guest. Emily steps in, her expression unreadable except for the faint curve of her lips that doesn’t quite qualify as a smile. “Well,” Emily says, taking in the room before letting her gaze settle on Sienna. “Still here?” Her tone is light, almost playful, but there’s a sharp edge beneath it, restrained but unmistakable. Sienna stiffens. She wants to respond, but the words won’t come. Should she get defensive? Or just let Emily have her moment? Emily steps further into the room. “Did Noah ever tell you about the time he almost ended his life?” she asks, her voice eerily calm as she begins to pace, her hands clasped behind her back. Sienna freezes, unprepared for the bombshell Emily has just dropped. The words hit her like a blow. It’s new and shocking—a reminder of how little she truly knows about Noah’s past. Th
During the ride home, Sienna can’t stop glancing at her phone. She’s called Mia three times already, and each one has gone straight to voicemail. Something feels wrong, and it bothers her.“Vox,” she says suddenly, breaking the silence. “Take me to Mia’s place.” The car turns smoothly, and when they arrive, relief washes over her. The lights are on. She’s home. Sienna hurries to the door, knocking quickly. “Mia? It’s me!” She waits, but there’s no response. She tries again, louder this time, her voice growing more desperate. “Mia, please. Are you okay?” Nothing. She steps back, staring at the door, unsure of what to do. The lights are on, there's no answer. Is Mia still offended? They've had countless fights, but never did one go over a day without them talking about it. This is new to her, and she doesn't like the feeling that comes with it. Maybe she went overboard this time.After a few more futile attempts, she returns to the car, her heart heavy with worry. ****The p
The news spreads like wildfire, tearing through the city faster than anyone could have imagined. The bomb blast at the residence of the acting CEO of Paragon Group is on every channel, every radio station, and every social media feed. Headlines scream catastrophe, and the once-quiet neighborhood is now a chaotic war zone of flashing lights, wailing sirens, and ash-filled air. Emergency vehicles crowd the narrow street, their red and blue lights painting the smoky night in an eerie, pulsating glow. Firefighters in heavy gear move in synchronized chaos, spraying what remains of the house with water, though it's clear there's nothing left to salvage. The structure has been reduced to a blackened skeleton, smoke curling from its charred beams like ghostly fingers clawing at the night sky. The acrid scent of burnt wood and chemicals clings to the air, choking anyone who dares to venture close. Police officers cordon off the area with bright yellow tape, their faces grim as they direct
Two weeks have passed, and time feels like a cruel illusion for Noah. Days pass into nights, marked only by the relentless ringing of his phone or the ping of a new message. Each sound sends his heart racing, a flicker of hope that this time—maybe this time—it’s about Sienna. But every call, every lead, every supposed sighting ends in the same place: nowhere. The disappointment ears him up, hollowing him out. Noah doesn’t sleep anymore. He can’t. When he closes his eyes, all he sees is the fire—the smoke, the ash, the charred remains of her house. He imagines her trapped, screaming for help, and the image hunt him. So, he stays awake. Nights stretch into days, his body running on adrenaline and whiskey. The liquor numbs him just enough to keep going, to keep functioning in whatever limited way he can. His reflection in the bathroom mirror is barely recognizable. His features are now gaunt, his eyes red-rimmed and sunken. A patchy beard shadows his jaw, showing how little he cares
Nile stands directly behind him, his arms crossed in front of him, a picture of quiet intensity. His eyes are fixed on some point ahead, his gaze unwavering. In one hand, he grasps a brown envelope, its edges slightly worn, as if it's been handled many times before. His grip on the envelope is firm, his fingers wrapped tightly around it, as if he's hesitant to let it go.Aurora clears her throat as she begins. “Mr. Knight, the purpose of this meeting is to discuss the future leadership of Paragon Group. With the tragedy that has struck us, the company can't afford to remain leaderless. We must move forward. Positions need to be filled, projects need oversight, and decisions need to be made.” Noah lets out a chuckle, one devoid of humor. He leans back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he finally looks up. “So, what is this? Are you telling me or asking me?” Aurora’s lips twitch, but she maintains her composure. “We’re telling you,” she says firmly, “because we’ve made a decision
The scent of warm honey and golden pancakes wafts through the air, curling like a teasing whisper from the stovetop to every corner of the small, sunlit kitchen. Sienna moves with a quiet efficiency, her bare feet padding softly against the smooth tiles. The morning light streams through sheer curtains. She isn’t in her usual form, but Sienna doesn’t let that stop her. A faded tank top and loose cotton shorts hug her frame, revealing patches of pink, healing scars across her arms and legs. Her head, once crowned with thick, flowing hair, is now bald beneath layers of white gauze. The bandages wrap snugly, almost lovingly, around her scalp. She hasn’t yet adjusted to seeing herself in the mirror, but Osborne’s steady presence makes it easier. A faint wince flickers across her face as she bends to retrieve a mixing bowl, but she brushes the pain away, focusing on the task at hand. She pours pancake batter onto the hot griddle. The batter hisses and sizzles, spreading out in perfect
The King's estate is alive with music and laughter. Fairy lights dangle like tiny stars from every tree in the sprawling backyard. A small crowd has gathered to celebrate the arrival of Noah and Sienna's twins. The theme is unmistakable—soft blues for their son and delicate pinks for their daughter. Silk ribbons in both colors wrap around the columns of the grand patio, and tables are adorned with matching floral arrangements—roses, peonies, and hydrangeas carefully placed in crystal vases. A lavish archway stands at the center of the yard, crafted from intertwined blue and pink roses, where the naming ceremony is about to take place. Everything is perfect, elegant, yet deeply personal—just the way Noah insisted it should be. Sienna sits on a white chair beneath the arch, holding her twins, one in each arm. She’s radiant despite the exhaustion that comes with being a new mother. Her figure, still recovering, is wrapped in a simple but stunning dress of soft cream silk. Her bobbed
Seven months later, Sienna is standing on the brink of what feels like an emotional cliff, one that’s littered with equal parts joy and sheer panic. She’s not exactly sure how she’s made it this far, but somehow, she’s here—carrying twins, something that still doesn’t quite feel real. Despite the overwhelming support from Noah, his mother, and all the other people around her, there’s something deeply personal about these moments. They’re hers, and hers alone. But today, she’s about to share this experience with Noah in a way she never expected. Mrs. King had been a frequent visitor, popping by to help Sienna with anything and everything. From checking on her health to making sure she was eating properly, Mrs. King always knew how to show up and make Sienna feel cared for. It was more than just maternal instinct—it was love, pure and simple. Everyone showed her love and support, and Sienna was starting to feel more like a mother than she ever thought she could be. But today—today was
Sienna wakes up to the gentle caress of dawn’s light peeking through the curtains, her body swaddled in the luxurious silk sheets that seem to whisper sweet nothings to her skin. As she stretches, the soft fabric rustles, releasing the faint scent of Noah’s cologne, which lingers on the pillows beside her like a gentle reminder of his presence.She lies there for a moment, savoring the peaceful atmosphere, her mind wrapped in the serenity of the morning.But as the minutes tick by, the weight of her responsibilities begins to creep into her consciousness, gently tugging at her mind like a persistent whisper. With a soft sigh, Sienna kicks off the covers and swings her legs over the side of the bed, her feet dangling in the air as she sits up.The bathroom beckons, and she rises from the bed, padding softly across the floor. As she passes by the mirror, she catches a glimpse of herself, her bobbed hair mussed from sleep, her eyes still heavy with the remnants of slumber.Noah had alrea
Ibiza had been a place of healing and renewal for Sienna and Noah, where they deepened their love and rediscovered each other. It was there that Noah proposed to Sienna once more, this time determined to give her the proper wedding they both deserved. Without hesitation, she said yes. Mrs. King had been overjoyed when they shared the news, eagerly announcing that she would invite all her favorite people to celebrate. And now, here they were, bringing that dream to life in Washington, D.C.Sienna couldn’t quite keep her hands steady as Mrs. King led her down the aisle. The older woman’s touch was warm, her arm a steadying anchor against the whirlwind of emotions crashing inside her. Mrs. King had offered to walk her without hesitation, and though Sienna had been reluctant at first, now she was grateful. With every step, she felt the weight of the moment settles in, the sheer magnitude of what lay ahead. The aisle stretched endlessly, a glistening path of white framed by cascading f
Sienna stands in front of the mirror, running her hands over the fabric of her black gown, a simple piece, knee-length, hugging her curves just enough to make her feel... seen. Not in the way she used to, when the world felt distant, but in a way that feels like she's finally back. She can almost feel herself, the woman she once was before all the chaos and the pain. She’s still her, but somehow more whole.She pulls her hair back into a ponytail, smoothing down any stray strands, and as she catches her reflection, she can’t help but smile. It’s a quiet smile, almost foreign, but it feels right. She’s not broken anymore. She’s healing, piece by piece. She’s getting closer to the woman she wants to be, and maybe, just maybe, she’s starting to accept that she deserves to feel it.The door creaks open behind her, and she doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is. She feels his presence the second he enters. It’s like the room shifts, the air thickening with his energy, his magnetism.
The jet lands smoothly on the private runway, the scent of saltwater faint in the air as the engines wind down. Sienna steps into the aisle, stretching and shaking off the remnants of her nap. Her bare feet are cold against the polished floor, but her focus is on Noah, who stands ahead, adjusting the sleeves of his clothes. He glances back, offering her his hand. “Ready?” he asks, his voice low, steady. “For Ibiza? Always,” she replies, slipping her hand into his as they descend the steps. But as they approach the tarmac, her steps falter. Standing at the base of the stairs, holding a vibrant bouquet of sunflowers and white roses, is a woman whose presence Sienna never imagined seeing here—Noah’s mother. Sienna’s smile freezes, her expression a polite mask even as her stomach knots. Leaning toward Noah, she whispers, “What’s your mother doing here?” The words come out light, almost playful, but there’s no hiding the tension in her voice. “She’s here to meet us,” Noah repli
Sunlight spills through the floor-to-ceiling windows of their bedroom, golden and warm, bathing the space in a serene glow. Noah King stretches lazily, the sheets pooling around his hips as his toned body catches the morning light. Sienna, lying on her side, watches him, her lips twitching into a grin. Even after a week of marriage, her attraction to him hasn’t dulled; it’s only grown sharper. “What will we do today?” she asks, her voice soft but curious, as though the day holds endless possibilities. Noah turns to face her, a sly smile curving his lips. “That depends. Are you planning to wake me up the same way tomorrow?” She laughs, her cheeks heating at the memory of this morning’s intimate wake-up call. “Maybe.” His golden eyes gleam mischievously as he swings his legs out of bed, pulling on a pair of well-worn jeans. The domestic ease of the moment makes Sienna’s chest ache in the best way. “We should pack,” he announces, fastening the button on his jeans. “Pack?” She
“Oh, my world, YES!” Sienna screams, coming before he’s halfway in. “Noah!” The fullness sends her over the brink. “Uhn! Feel you!” He shoves home, ripping another scream from her. And again. “You would’ve stolen my cum, just like that.” She writhes in her bonds as her orgasm consumes her, numbing her mind. . . . Once she finally falls limp, he bites out, “More?” His muscles quake against her. How badly he must need to come! “Yes!” she gasps. “I will always give you more.” He draws back his hips and grips her around the waist, widening his stance. He’s readying. She fidgets in her bindings. He looks like he’s about to ravage her, and there’s nothing she can do but take it. “Um, Noah—” He yanks her back along his cock while his body rams forward. He yells; she moans from the impact. His position, her position . . . she feels like a sexual plaything. "Maybe I have been missing out on so much," she thinks because the idea puts her right back on the brink. “Your body nee
Noah leads her further into the bedroom and pulls a remote control from his jeans pocket. With the press of a button, all the windows turn to mirrors. “It’s a type of smart glass,” he explains. “For full privacy when we have guests.” Sienna's mouth drops open, surprise etched on her face. "How did this get here?""I've always had this room waiting," Noah reveals, "waiting for the right time for us to explore it together. Sadly, you left before that could happen."Fascination and anxiousness swirl in her eyes. She's captivated by the mystery of this secret space. How did he envision such a place? What purpose did he intend it to serve? She tilts her head in admiration. “You do think of everything.” “It gets better.” He pushes another button, and the mirrors shift to screens, displaying the bed from multiple angles—even from above. “There are cameras in the bedroom?” she asks, her voice catching with a mix of shock and excitement. Sienna's gaze narrows, her mind racing. "You sa