In the Davis mansion, Aurora sits poised on her cream leather couch, a glass of merlot delicately balanced in her hand. The room is immaculate, all gleaming surfaces and muted tones, as if chaos doesn’t dare enter. Until now. The flat-screen television mounted on the wall broadcasts Sienna’s press conference in real-time. Aurora’s sharp features tense, her eyes narrowing as she listens to every word. “She’s shutting them down,” Arthur mutters from his spot on the chaise lounge. “That’s bold. She’s dismantling half the company.” Aurora’s grip on her wine glass tightens, her knuckles whitening. “She’s ruining everything,” she says through clenched teeth. “That bitch!” she hisses, her voice trembling with rage. She grabs the nearest object—a heavy crystal ashtray—and hurls it at the television. The screen shatters on impact, shards flying across the room. “How dare she make a decision like this without consulting anyone?” Aurora’s chest heaves, her breaths ragged. Nylar, p
Sienna steps out of the elevator, her heels clicking against the floor as she walks toward the boardroom. Noah, Ethan, and Sienna had brunch earlier before. She keeps her expression neutral. Her heart hammers in her chest—not from fear, but from the sheer gravity of the moment. The glass doors slide open, and the room hushes as she steps inside.Every member of the board is already seated, their eyes scrutinizing her. She glances at the leather chair at the head of the table. Tentatively, she runs her fingers over it, the smooth texture cool against her skin. Her gaze shifts to the mahogany table, tracing its grain with her fingertips before taking her place at the head of the table—the CEO’s chair. She exhales slowly, trying to suppress the disbelief swirling in her mind. Never had she imagined she'd be here, much less in charge. For years, Paragon Group had been a symbol of her father’s betrayal—a fortress she was shut out of while her mother was left to suffer. Now, she holds the
After Aurora left, Sienna’s day one isn't just another day. As the youngest CEO of Paragon Group, the world seems to shift around her. The whispers begin, rippling through the halls like static electricity. Everywhere she passes, some employees cranes their necks to catch a glimpse of her, while others barely mask their skepticism. By noon, it isn’t just the employees talking. Social media buzzes with her photos, headlines speculating on her appointment, and debates over whether she is a trailblazer or a ticking time bomb. Articles dubbing her "The 19-Year-Old CEO," with equal parts admiration and derision. Some praise her striking presence and audacity, while others dismiss her as "a child playing dress-up." Sienna barely has time to process any of it. By 2 P.M she's seated at the head of the boardroom table again, scanning over reports, charts, and balance sheets that painted a grim picture of Paragon’s inner workings. At first, she hesitates to speak. But the more she listens t
Sienna can still feel the warmth of Osborne’s embrace on her skin. It unsettles her, and not because it’s Osborne—it’s the timing, the lack of warning, and the way the door swings open mid-moment, revealing Noah. His entrance carries an unspoken tension that ripples through the room like a live wire. Before she can gather her thoughts, another figure steps into the doorway. Mia. She’s holding takeout bags, her grip slackening as her gaze lands on them. Mia has seen Sienna and Osborne hug a hundred times before—platonic, casual—but this? The air feels charged in a way that’s hard to dismiss. Her eyes watch longer than usual, studying the space between them like she’s trying to solve an equation that doesn’t quite add up. Osborne shifts first, his usual nonchalance returning as he steps back and jams his tattooed hands into his pockets. His smirk is faint but sharp, the kind that says he enjoys the sudden discomfort. "Mr. King," he says, his tone neutral, his eyes anything but. Th
Noah unbuckles his belt with a deliberate slowness, the leather slipping through the loops like a predator drawing out the chase. Sienna stands near the desk, arms folded tight across her chest. Her stance is defiant—legs parted, the left bent slightly inward while the right tilts outward as though she's rooted in her defiance. Her eyes remain locked on his hands, her breaths shallow but steady. “You’re disobeying,” Noah growls. “And that will get you punished.”She sighs, her fingers twitching near the bow tie belt on her gown. Slowly, almost angrily, she reaches for it, untying the knot before letting the fabric slip loose. Her hands hover over the zipper for a beat too long, and Noah’s eyes narrow.“Good girl,” he murmurs as she tugs the material aside, revealing more of herself. His voice softens, dangerously tender. “Now, the rest.”He crooks a finger, a subtle motion that holds the precision of a master puppeteer. Sienna’s lips press together as if to suppress any protest. She
The drive to Noah’s estate is strangely quiet, tension coiling in the air between them. Sienna stares out of the window, her mind racing with thoughts she can’t organize. Noah has canceled his entire day to take her home. She is unsure what awaits but the guessing game thrills her.As they approach the gates, she, for thefirst time, actually observes the beauty of the environment. It’s impossible not to be impressed.When the car stops, a line of uniformed staff stands by the entrance, heads bowed slightly. Noah steps out first, straightening his cufflinks before rounding the car to open her door. “This isn’t necessary,” she whispers, reluctant to step into the spotlight. “It is,” he says firmly. “I want them to meet you. The few times you were here, things were improper."" As she steps out, the murmurs among the staff are faint but audible. Noah raises a hand, silencing them before they grow louder. “This,” he announces, his arm snaking around her waist, “is Sienna. My girlfri
The first lash comes without warning—a sharp sting that draws a gasp from her lips. It isn’t unbearable, but it leaves a faint, searing burn in its wake. “Does it hurt?” His voice is calm, almost clinical, like he’s observing her every reaction. “A little,” she manages, her breath catching. “But I can handle it.” The lashes come quicker now, harder. Each one bites into her skin, leaving behind a trail of heat that builds and builds until it’s all she can feel. A small whimper escapes her, but she doesn’t cry out. Her resolve holds, even as her body protests. What's going on with her? More like she needs this too to decompress all the emotions she has eternalized.“Count,” he commands.. “One,” she whispers, her voice barely steady. The numbers rise, trembling on her lips, until she reaches thirty. By then, her back feels like fire, the skin raw, thin cuts trickling blood. Her head sags to the side, exhaustion creeping in, her body quivering from the strain. Noah steps bac
"Vox, has Noah killed anyone before? Does he hurt people?" Sienna’s voice wavers as the question leaves her lips, but her gaze is steady, pinned on him like it might force the truth out.Vox, doesn’t flinch. His facial expression is blank making it difficult to read anything off him. "Miss Davis, those are questions you need to ask Mr. King directly," he replies, his tone as empty and unreadable as a sealed envelope. After a beat, his expression softens slightly, almost imperceptibly. "But what I can truthfully tell you is that he loves, cares, and respects you. You're the light to his darkness. And if you leave him, Mr. King would go rogue, and all would suffer."Sienna feels her chest tighten. She blinks rapidly, trying to make meaning of his words. Is Vox implying she’s meant to be Noah’s moral compass? To hold him together at the expense of her own sanity? Her happiness?"Mr. King might not be the best. But, he's a good man," Vox adds, his voice even, as if stating a fact rather th
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