Sienna twists her body, kicking and clawing at Osborne’s hold, her energy drained but her resolve unbroken. “Let me go!” she yells, her voice cracking from exhaustion. Osborne grabs her wrists with one hand, his grip unrelenting, while the other clamps over her shoulder, forcing her closer. “Stop fighting me,” he snaps, his tone sharp yet eerily calm. “You’re only making this harder on yourself.” But Sienna refuses to give in. Her nails rake against his arm, leaving red welts, but he barely flinches. She manages to jerk away for half a second before he catches her again, this time tugging her roughly toward the house. “Damn it, Sienna, *stop!*” Osborne’s voice rises, his calm cracking, but she doesn’t care. Then the low hum of a helicopter slices through the tense air, its spotlight sweeping over them. Sienna freezes, her wide eyes flicking upward as the blinding beam lands squarely on Osborne. The distant wail of sirens grows closer, accompanied by the crunch of tires again
“Osborne, stop!” Sienna chokes out through the haze, her throat raw. Her vision swims as her lungs fight for oxygen. “You’re killing me—if you care, stop!” His head snaps toward her, and for a split second, there’s a flicker of guilt in his eyes. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, replaced by anger. “You don’t get it, do you? You made me like this. You and that arrogant bastard, Noah. He always took everything from me—and now he’s trying to take you, too.” Sienna shakes her head weakly, her voice barely audible. “You’ve already lost me.” Osborne freezes, the weight of her words settling over him like a crushing tide. For a moment, the only sounds in the room are their ragged breaths and the muffled chaos outside. Suddenly, a loud crash shakes the house as Noah kicks the door in, gun raised. Smoke pours out around him, but he pushes forward, his face grim with determination. “Osborne!” he roars. “Let her go, now!” Osborne turns, startled, but his grip on the gun tightens. He g
Noah stands frozen at the foot of the hospital bed, his hand gripping the railing as though it’s the only thing tethering him to reality. Sienna’s pale form lies still, save for the faint rise and fall of her chest.Her lips, usually soft with a hint of color, are chapped, and her cheeks seem hollow under the harsh fluorescent lighting. The beeping of the heart monitor is steady—too steady—and yet it only fuels the chaos in his head. She's been unconscious for six hours leaving Noah scared of the unknown.The doctor’s words repeat in his head like a haunting refrain: "She’s stable, but both she and the baby are under significant stress. She’ll need rest—and emotional care."His thumb skims over her knuckles, trembling slightly, though he keeps his expression as neutral as he can. Inside, he’s a storm—grief, guilt, relief, and something he doesn’t want to admit to himself yet."You’re pregnant," he whispers to her unconscious form, his voice almost cracking. The word tastes foreign on
“We didn’t want to bring the news so soon to you,” Noah says over Ethan’s words, his voice measured but taut. Ethan shoots him a sharp look, and Sienna, lying weakly in her hospital bed, glances between them with narrowed eyes. “What bad news?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.Noah exhales slowly, his features softening as he turns his gaze to her. “You’ve been scheduled for the transplant immediately.”Sienna blinks, the shock cutting through her exhaustion. “How is that possible? I need a donor. I—”“Everything has been taken care of, Sienna,” Noah says, cutting her off gently but firmly. “I just didn’t want to let you know right now. But since Ethan thought it best to bring it up, I guess I have no choice but to tell you.”“Noah, you can’t just—” Ethan starts, stepping forward, but Noah holds up a hand, his expression hardening.“Not now, Ethan. Just let it go,” Noah growls, his voice low but brimming with warning.The tension between the two is almost tangible, hanging
Dr. Walker emerges from the surgical ward hours later, his expression calm but unreadable. He approaches Noah, who’s been pacing the corridor, his hands buried deep in his pockets. He leans in and whispers something—low, clipped words exchanged in a professional tone. Noah listens intently, his jaw tightening as he processes the information. With a nod, Dr. Walker pats his shoulder and departs, leaving Noah alone in the hallway. For a moment, Noah doesn’t move. His gaze drifts to the recovery room where Sienna lies resting, visible through the large glass window. Slowly, he steps closer, pressing a palm against the cool surface, his breath fogging the glass. His face softens as he takes her in—her peaceful expression, the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. “You’ll forgive me one day for what I’ve done,” he mutters, his voice low and heavy. “All of this… it’s for you. To keep you safe. To keep you with me.”He exhales sharply, dragging his palm down the glass before turning away.
Noah stirs awake, his movements sluggish as dawn's first light filters through the gauzy curtains. His phone buzzes softly on the nightstand, and he reaches out without much thought. But when his gaze lands on the caller ID, his body tenses. The drowsiness vanishes in an instant. He snatches the phone and rises carefully, his steps almost soundless on the plush rug as he tiptoes out of the room, a furtive glance thrown toward the bed where Sienna lies still To Noah, she’s asleep, her breathing steady, her figure curled slightly under the blankets. He hesitates at the doorway, lingering just long enough to make sure before slipping into the hallway and closing the door behind him with a soft click. But Sienna isn’t asleep. Beneath half-closed lids, she tracks his every movement, the glow of the phone illuminating his sharp features in the dim room. She doesn’t stir, doesn’t even twitch. Instead, she lets her breaths remain even and her body relaxed, her mind racing. What’s so i
The last of the boxes are carried inside, the movers exchanging brief nods with Noah before they leave. Noah’s hand rests gently on Sienna’s lower back as he guides her into the house. She notices a new buzz of activity as the housekeepers dart around, unpacking the endless parade of boxes. It’s overwhelming. Shoes of every style line one wall, their colors and designs cascading like a rainbow. Next to them, countless clothes—dresses, blouses, jeans, coats—all carefully unpacked and hung or folded. Rows of handbags are arranged meticulously on shelves, some still nestled in their protective dust bags, while others gleam in the sunlight streaming through the windows. Accessories spill out of boxes: necklaces, bracelets, watches, sunglasses—each piece more extravagant than the last. Sienna’s eyes widen as the housekeepers move into a second room, murmuring among themselves as they realize there isn’t enough space in one room for everything. Electronics appear next—a sleek laptop,
Aurora bursts into the apartment, her stilettos clicking against the marble floor. Her chest heaves with ragged breaths, and her eyes blaze with anger and hurt. She doesn’t wait for an invitation, her stride full of righteous fury, the kind that dares anyone to stop her.Noah stands in the center of the living room, hands in his pockets, his face unreadable as the guards hover, awaiting his signal. With a slight wave of his hand, he dismisses them, allowing Aurora to enter.“What do you want?” Noah’s voice is calm, but the edge is impossible to miss.Aurora’s eyes blaze, her chest rising and falling as she points a manicured finger at him. “What do I want?” she repeats, her voice dripping with venom. “Haven’t you done enough? Or are you here to gloat, Noah?”Noah doesn’t flinch, his posture casual, almost bored. “You barged into my home, Aurora. You might want to think twice before accusing me of anything.”She laughs. “Accusing you? Don’t act innocent. You’ve been making our lives he
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