Chapter 5

The text arrived before dawn.

*Family brunch today. Everyone will be there. Including Landon. Be ready at 11:30.*

Sienna's stomach clenched before she even opened her eyes.

She stared at the ceiling. Sunlight crept through the curtains. For one stupid second she'd forgotten. Then it all came rushing back. Landon's voice last night. Cold. Cutting.

*You were nothing special.*

Her chest felt like someone had reached inside and twisted everything around. She pressed her palm against her ribs. Hard. Until it hurt in a different way.

Her father's voice echoed in her head from last week. Don't ruin this. The Callahan money is our lifeline.

She sat up. Her reflection in the mirror across the room looked pale. Hollow. Like a woman made of paper.

Her phone buzzed again. Noah.

*Good morning, beautiful. Can't wait to show you off today.*

Show you off. Like a car. Like a watch. Like anything except a person.

She typed back with shaking fingers.

*Can't wait.*

The lie came easier now. She was getting good at them.

***

The Blake family car picked her up at eleven thirty. She wore pale blue because Noah's mother once said it made her look innocent. Pure. Exactly what a Callahan wife should be.

Her makeup took twenty minutes to cover the circles under her eyes. When she was done, she looked like the perfect fiancée.

She felt like a corpse.

Eleanor met her at the door with air kisses that didn't quite touch her cheeks.

"Sienna, darling. You look lovely."

The garden was perfect. Too perfect. Like a movie set. Rose bushes in bloom. White tablecloths that probably cost more than her car. Crystal glasses catching sunlight.

And there at one of the tables, laughing like he didn't have a care in the world, was Landon.

Her lungs forgot how to work.

He wore dark jeans and a white button down. Sleeves rolled up. Tattoos visible on his forearms. The same arms that had held her that night on the beach.

A woman sat across from him. Blonde. Beautiful. The kind of woman who'd never had an awkward day in her life. Her red dress looked expensive.

And she was laughing. Head thrown back. Hand reaching across the table to touch Landon's arm.

Sienna's fingernails bit into her palms. She smelled copper before she realized she'd broken skin.

"Oh," Eleanor said. "That's Victoria Ashford. Lovely girl. Landon met her at a gallery opening last week."

Last week. Right when he decided to come back. Right when he walked back into her life just to destroy it.

"They make a striking couple, don't they?" Eleanor continued.

Sienna watched Landon lean closer to Victoria. Watched him give her that smile. The one that made you feel like the only person in the world.

The same smile he'd given her.

"Sienna." Noah appeared. His arm slid around her waist. Tight. Possessive. "There you are."

"Just admiring the garden."

"Beautiful, isn't it?" He followed her gaze. "Ah. My brother and his latest conquest."

Conquest. The word hit her stomach like a fist.

"They look happy."

"Victoria's good family. Good connections. Maybe she'll settle him down."

Noah guided her toward their table. Closer. Close enough to hear every word. Every laugh.

"Tell me about your photography," Victoria was saying. "It must be so exciting."

"It has its moments." Landon's voice was warm. Charming. Nothing like the ice from last night.

Sienna sat down. Tried not to listen. Tried not to watch. But her eyes kept finding him. Like a wound she couldn't stop touching.

"You seem distracted," Noah said.

"Just tired."

"Would you like champagne?"

"Please."

Anything. Anything to dull the sharp edges of watching him with someone else.

"A toast," Noah said, raising his glass. "To my beautiful fiancée. I'm the luckiest man in the world."

She raised her glass. Smiled. The same empty smile she'd been practicing her whole life.

Then someone brushed past her chair.

A hand touched her shoulder. Brief. Burning.

"Excuse me," Landon's voice said.

She turned. He was right there. Close enough that she could smell his cologne. The same scent from that night.

"Just need to get to the bar."

His voice was polite. Normal. Like they were strangers.

But then he leaned down. His mouth near her ear.

"Stop staring. You're embarrassing yourself."

The words cut like glass. Sharp. Meant to bleed.

Then he was gone. Walking away like nothing happened.

Sienna's hands shook so hard champagne sloshed over the rim of her glass. It pooled on the white tablecloth. Spreading. Like blood.

"Excuse me," she said. Her voice didn't sound like hers. "Bathroom."

Noah half stood. "Do you want me to..."

"No."

She walked. Fast. Before anyone could see her face crack.

Inside, she locked the bathroom door. Gripped the marble sink. Her knuckles went white. The face in the mirror looked like it belonged to someone breaking.

Stop staring. You're embarrassing yourself.

The words played on repeat. A song she couldn't turn off.

Maybe that night was all in my head. Maybe I imagined everything. The connection. The way he looked at me.

Maybe I really am pathetic.

She splashed cold water on her face. It mixed with something hot on her cheeks. She wasn't crying. She refused to cry. Not here. Not for him.

When she walked back outside, Victoria's laugh carried across the garden.

"You know," Victoria was saying, "I've been thinking about what you said earlier. About women who chase unavailable men."

Sienna's feet stopped moving.

"What about it?" Landon asked.

"It's so true. Some women just don't know their place. They convince themselves they're special when really they're just desperate."

The ground tilted. Sienna grabbed the back of a chair to stay upright.

"Exactly," Landon said. His voice carried. Loud enough. On purpose. "It's pathetic when a woman can't take a hint. When she keeps clinging to something that was never real."

Each word was a knife. Precise. Deliberate. Meant to kill.

He knew she was listening. Knew she could hear every word.

This wasn't a conversation with Victoria.

This was a message. For her.

***

That evening, the Callahan dining room looked like a museum. All crystal and china and polished perfection. Nothing real. Nothing human.

Sienna sat beside Noah. His hand covered hers. Heavy. Claiming.

Landon sat directly across from her.

She could barely breathe.

Eleanor talked about wedding flowers. White roses. Red roses. Passion and purity. Words that meant nothing.

"What do you think, Sienna?" Eleanor asked.

"Whatever you think is best," Sienna said. Her voice sounded far away.

"Oh, but it's your wedding, dear. You should have opinions."

Should. The story of her entire life.

"I trust your judgment."

Noah squeezed her hand. "See? I told you she was perfect. Never argues. Never demands. Just grateful for whatever she gets."

The words landed like a slap.

Perfect. Grateful. Like a dog that learned tricks.

Across the table, Landon's jaw tightened. His fingers gripped his wine glass hard enough that his knuckles went white.

"Perfect," he said quietly. But it sounded like an accusation.

"She really is," Noah continued. "The perfect woman to complete me. To strengthen the Callahan legacy."

Legacy. Business. Contract. Everything except love.

"Sounds more like a merger than a marriage," Landon said suddenly. His voice was casual but his eyes were sharp. "Should I start calling her Mrs. Contract?"

The table went silent.

Eleanor's fork stopped. Richard's face darkened. Noah's hand tightened until Sienna's bones ground together.

"Excuse me?" Noah's voice was quiet. Dangerous.

"You heard me. All this talk about completion and legacy. You're buying a wife, not marrying one."

"Landon," Eleanor warned.

"What's next? Performance reviews? Annual evaluations?"

Noah's face went red. "How dare you."

"At least I know how to build something lasting," Noah snapped. "You wouldn't understand responsibility."

"Responsibility? Or control?" Landon leaned forward. "Because from here, it looks like you're buying her."

The words hit Sienna in the chest. True. God help her, they were true.

"Don't insult her," Noah said, standing. His chair scraped. "She's worth ten of you."

"I'm not insulting her. I'm insulting you."

"Boys," Richard said. "That's enough."

But it was too late.

"You want to know what I think?" Noah was fully standing now. Shaking. "You're jealous. Jealous that I can commit to something. That someone chose me."

"Chose?" Landon stood slowly. "Look at her, Noah. Really look. Does she look like she chose this?"

All eyes turned to Sienna. She felt exposed. Raw. Like they could see every secret carved into her skin.

"Of course she's happy," Noah said. But his voice wavered.

"Are you?" Landon asked her directly. "Happy?"

The question hung in the air. A grenade with the pin pulled.

"I..." Sienna started.

"She doesn't have to answer that," Noah said quickly.

"Why not? Afraid of what she'll say?"

"ENOUGH."

Richard's hand slammed the table. Wine glasses jumped. The sound echoed like a gunshot.

"Enough," he said again. Quieter. Deadlier. "Landon, you have humiliated this family long enough. Noah is the future. You are nothing but wasted potential."

The words cracked through the room like a whip.

Landon's face changed. The mask slipped. Just for a second. She saw pain there. Old. Deep. The kind that lived in your bones.

His jaw clenched. His hands curled into fists.

Without a word, he threw his napkin on the table.

Stood. Pushed his chair back so hard it almost fell.

"You're right," he said quietly. His voice was hollow. Empty. "I am wasted potential. Thanks for the reminder."

He turned. Walked toward the door.

The doors slammed. The sound was like bones breaking.

Eleanor tried to fill the silence with chatter. Noah squeezed Sienna's hand. Everyone pretended the explosion hadn't happened.

But Sienna couldn't taste her food. Couldn't hear the conversation. All she could see was Landon's face. The hurt he'd tried to hide.

Her eyes kept finding the doors. Wondering where he went. If he was okay.

If he was thinking about her too.

"Sienna?" Noah's voice. "You're not eating."

"Sorry. Tired."

"Let's call it an early night."

She nodded. Let him help her up. Let him guide her out.

But as they left, she looked back.

Looked at the doors that slammed behind Landon.

She should be relieved. Should focus on Noah and their future and everything expected of her.

But all she felt was the ache of wanting to follow him.

Of wanting to tell him his words were true. That she was being bought. That she was trapped.

And still, against reason, against pride, she loved him.

A love sharp enough to ruin her.

Chapter 6

After the disaster at dinner, Eleanor insisted that Sienna stay the night.

"It's so late, dear," she said, wringing her hands. "And after all that unpleasantness with Landon. I'd feel terrible sending you home alone."

Noah agreed immediately. "Of course you should stay. You can sleep in my room. We're engaged anyway."

His arm slid around her waist, possessive. Claiming.

Sienna wanted to say no. Wanted to go home to her own bed where she could fall apart in private. But causing more tension after the dinner fight seemed cruel.

"That's very kind," she said instead.

Noah's bedroom was on the third floor. Huge and masculine with dark wood furniture and navy blue everything. It smelled like his expensive cologne and something else. Something that was purely him but felt foreign to her.

"There are extra things in the bathroom if you need them," Noah said, already loosening his tie. "And I have some shirts you can sleep in."

She nodded and disappeared into his bathroom. Changed into one of his white dress shirts that hung loose on her frame. When she came out, he was already in bed, patting the space beside him.

"Come here," he said softly.

She slipped under the covers next to him. He pulled her close immediately, his arm wrapping around her waist. His breath was warm against her neck.

"I'm sorry about tonight," he said. "About Landon. He shouldn't have said those things."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. He was way out of line. But that's just how he is. Destructive. He can't stand to see other people happy."

Happy. The word felt hollow.

"Try to get some sleep," Noah murmured, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "Tomorrow will be better."

Within minutes, his breathing evened out. He was asleep, his arm still around her like a chain.

But Sienna couldn't sleep.

Every time she closed her eyes, she heard voices. Landon's words from dinner. "Buying a wife, not loving one." Noah's voice getting sharp and angry. Richard calling his own son wasted potential.

The fight had been about her. But it wasn't really about her at all.

She lay there for what felt like hours, trapped under Noah's arm. His body was warm against her back but it felt wrong. Foreign. Like wearing clothes that belonged to someone else.

She needed air.

Carefully, she lifted his arm and slipped out of bed. He stirred, mumbling something that sounded like her name.

"Love you," he whispered, still asleep.

The words made her stomach twist. She grabbed the silk robe from the chair and tied it loosely around her waist.

The house was dark and quiet. Her bare feet made no sound on the marble floors as she crept downstairs. Every step felt dangerous. If Noah woke up and found her gone...

She had planned to go to the kitchen. Maybe find some tea. Something to calm her nerves.

But then she saw the light from the pool area.

Through the glass doors, she could see him.

Landon.

He was sitting on the edge of the pool with his feet in the water. A bottle of whiskey sat beside him, amber liquid catching the underwater lights. His white shirt was half open, the sleeves rolled up to show his tattooed arms. He stared at the water like it held answers to questions he was afraid to ask.

She should turn around. Should go back to her room and pretend she hadn't seen him.

But her feet carried her forward anyway.

The pool area was warm despite the October night. Steam rose from the heated water. The air smelled like chlorine and expensive whiskey and something else. Something that was purely him.

"You're still awake?" she asked softly.

Landon didn't look at her. Didn't even move. "What do you want, princess? Come to make sure I didn't drown myself?"

The cruelty in his voice was sharp. Like he wanted to cut her before she could get too close.

"I couldn't sleep," she said.

"And you thought I'd be good company? That's your first mistake."

She moved closer despite the warning in his tone. "You don't have to keep treating me like I'm the enemy."

That made him laugh. Cold and empty. "You're marrying my brother. That makes you the enemy by default."

The words hit her like slaps. But she didn't back down. "I never asked for any of this."

"No? Then why are you wearing his ring? Why are you planning his wedding? Why are you playing the part of the perfect little fiancée?"

"Because it's what I'm supposed to do."

"Supposed to." He finally looked at her then. His eyes were dark and angry and a little unfocused from the whiskey. "Tell me, do you practice that fake smile in the mirror? Or does it just come naturally?"

That broke something inside her. "At least I don't drown myself in liquor and random women just to feel alive."

His jaw tightened. The muscle jumped under his skin. He stood up slowly, water dripping from his feet onto the stone.

"Careful," he said, stepping closer. "That almost sounded like you care."

But he was close now. Too close. She could smell the whiskey on his breath. Could see the way his chest rose and fell under the open shirt. Could feel the heat coming off his skin.

"Maybe I do care," she whispered before she could stop herself.

Something flashed in his eyes. Want. Pain. Anger. All mixed together into something dangerous.

The air between them crackled. Electric. Like the moment before lightning strikes.

He moved closer. Another step. Then another. Until she could feel his breath on her face. Until the space between them disappeared.

For a second, she thought he might kiss her. For a second, she wanted him to.

Her heart slammed against her ribs. Her breath caught. Heat flooded her body until she felt dizzy.

This was what she had been missing. This fire. This need. This feeling of being completely alive.

He leaned in. His lips were inches from hers. She could taste the whiskey on his breath. Could feel the warmth of his skin.

His hand twitched at his side. Like he wanted to touch her face. Like he was fighting himself.

Her eyes fluttered closed.

For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. The moment stretched between them, dangerous and electric.

Then he whispered, "Relax, sweetheart. I don't touch what already belongs to my brother."

The words sliced through her like glass.

Her eyes snapped open. He was smirking at her. Cruel satisfaction in his dark eyes. Like he had won some sick game.

"What?" she breathed.

"You heard me. You're his property now. His perfect little trophy wife. And I don't play with other people's toys."

The humiliation was instant. Complete. She felt like she was drowning in shame.

"You're disgusting," she said.

"Maybe. But at least I'm honest about what I am. Can you say the same?"

Tears stung her eyes but she refused to let them fall. Refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her break.

"Run along now," he said, turning back to his whiskey bottle. "Don't want Noah wondering why his perfect little fiancée is out here begging for attention."

Begging for attention. Like she was a dog looking for scraps.

The cruelty of it took her breath away.

She spun around and ran. Her robe flying behind her as she rushed back toward the house. Her bare feet slapped against the stone. Her chest burned with shame and anger and something that felt too much like heartbreak.

Behind her, she heard the splash of him getting back in the pool. Like nothing had happened. Like he hadn't just destroyed her all over again.

She made it back inside before the tears started. Made it up to the third floor before her legs gave out.

She sat on the marble steps outside Noah's bedroom and let herself fall apart. Just for a minute. Just long enough to remember how to breathe.

God, she hated herself. Hated herself more than she hated him. For still wanting the man who kept destroying her. For sneaking out of her fiancé's bed to chase after someone who treated her like garbage.

What was wrong with her?

A creak from inside the bedroom made her freeze. Was Noah awake? Had he noticed she was gone?

She wiped the tears from her face and crept back into the bedroom. Slipped under the covers as quietly as possible. Noah stirred when she moved, his arm automatically reaching for her.

"There you are," he mumbled, half asleep. "Where'd you go?"

"Just getting some water," she whispered.

"Mmm. I love you."

He pulled her close again. His arm wrapped around her waist. His body warm against her back.

But her lips were still tingling. Like Landon had almost touched them. Like she could still feel the ghost of what might have been.

She lay there in the dark, trapped under Noah's arm, and whispered to herself, "Why does he hate me so much?"

But deep down, she knew the answer.

He hated her because she made him feel things he didn't want to feel. Because she represented everything he had walked away from. Because looking at her reminded him of what he could never have.

He hated her because he wanted her.

And wanting her was going to destroy them both.

Sienna wasn't sure she minded.