Chapter 10 Sienna
Sienna
The afternoon sun filters lazily through the massive windows of Ben’s house. My bakery plans are strewn across the low coffee table.
Handwritten notes on the back of receipts and random Post-it notes.
Scribbled sketches of cakes, and cut-out photos of rustic ovens and sunlit storefronts.
The chaos of my vision board.
I’m sitting cross-legged on the floor, my phone occasionally lighting up with texts from Lucy, but mostly I’m zoning out. My mind is trying to stitch together some semblance of hope from all this chaos.
Hope is thin here. But it’s all I have.
A sudden noise breaks through the quiet. The sharp, heavy thud of boots on marble. I freeze, heart kicking up, and then another pair, and another.
Footsteps, deliberate and loud, filing through the front entrance.
Instinctively, I rise and peer cautiously around the corner toward the hallway. A group of men, at least half a dozen, stream into the house.
Dark suits, broad shoulders, and faces hardened by years in the business.
The front door swings open again, and Ben steps inside, his sharp black suit impeccably tailored, but his expression unreadable.
I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. This house, the one I’m supposed to be getting used to, feels less like a sanctuary and more like a cage.
Ben’s men. His guards.
His world.
He pauses when he sees me, softening just enough to say, “Go upstairs, Sienna. I’ve got some things to take care of. I’ll take you out to dinner later. Go take a nice warm shower.”
His voice is calm but firm. No brooding or no argument in it.
I hesitate, curiosity burning hotter than fear, but his gaze pins me. I nod slowly and retreat, climbing the stairs in a haze of worry and questions.
From the top step, I stop and listen when I know I shouldn’t. I’m asking for it, at this point. I’m searching for clues to a world I don’t want to be a part of, and I’m making it harder for myself here.
The less I know, the better.
But Ben’s voice cuts through the quiet, low and controlled, and the words he’s saying churn my stomach into knots.
“We either take the empire by force. Either send Nikolai to the grave, or we outmaneuver him completely. Dismantle everything my father’s built from the inside.”
Another voice, one of his men, answers, cautious but eager. “And if we move on the old man first?”
“Too risky. We need to weaken the family structure so we come out on top. That’s the only way.”
My pulse races, and I cover my mouth with my hand, heart pounding so loud I’m sure they can hear it.
This is a war.
A bloody war I never signed up for, but my opinion doesn’t matter.
I step back and lean against the wall, my mind drifting to the night before.
The way Ben pressed me against the kitchen counter while I jabbered on the phone to Lucy about cupcakes and cinnamon rolls.
The way his hands were both commanding and gentle, how the quiet in the room seemed to coil around us, pulling tight.
How I’d told myself I was just playing along, but the truth was; I hadn’t felt that alive in months. That raw.
I bite my lip, feeling the ghost of his touch still burning against my skin. And the dark knot of dread that’s nestled deep in my chest—the daunting truth that I have to get pregnant. I’m supposed to carry his heir. His future.
But after hearing his words, the violent undercurrent of this family business, the stakes so high they’re willing to kill their own, how could I possibly bring a child into this?
A child who might inherit this world of power, violence, and distrust?
My stomach twists painfully. I’m caught between what I have to do and what my heart screams to reject.
I close my eyes, trying to steady my breath because there’s no going back now. No turning away from this darkness because I signed my name to an agreement, and going back on it now only results in death.
Death to my father.
I can’t go back now, I know that. But it’s like a war council downstairs, and I’m trapped upstairs, an outsider in this family battlefield, like it’s another day in the neighborhood.
I can’t help but replay last night over and over in my mind. How I let Ben touch me like that. How, despite everything, I felt something like safety, like maybe I wasn’t just a pawn in his game but something…more.
And yet, the cold fact remains.
He forced me into this, into carrying a child for him one day, for his legacy, and the thought makes my throat tighten.
I wonder if he feels any of the weight I’m carrying.
Probably not.
The past and the future are all tangled and dark. And somehow, I have to find a way through, but I don’t know how.
“Everyone clear on what’s next?” Ben suddenly asks, sounding closer as a chorus of yes, sirs, and clearly answers him.
No hesitation. No doubt.
I hear footsteps file out of the house through the foyer before a pair heads up the stairs.
Benedikt.
I sprint toward my room, ducking inside and shutting the door softly before I begin nervously pacing.
However, I’m not alone long when three firm raps sound on the other side of my door.
“Princess.” I stay quiet, my breath shallow as I stare at the barrier between the two of us. “I know you were listening.”
What?
How?
That’s the first thing that enters my immediate mind.
Not, crap, or darn.
“Why do you want to make this harder on yourself?” he asks, from the other side, not barging in my space like I expected him to.
Why won’t you leave me alone?
“I’m coming in,” he conveys evenly. “If you have a heavy object in your hands, don’t miss.”
I scoff because that would’ve been a good idea, when the door opens and Ben steps into my prison.
His blue eyes immediately lock onto me, assessing what kind of weapon I may have before he seems satisfied.
“Get dressed. I’m taking you out.”
“I’ll pass,” I say without needing to think or stop myself from saying it out loud.
He arches a brow but doesn’t argue.
“Fine,” he says, stepping closer. “I’ll order carryout. We’ll eat at the table here. But I’m not going to listen to any more of this I don’t want to play your game crap.”
I glower at him. “You’re a monster.”
“Am I?” He erases more of the space. “And here I was thinking I was going to keep you and my future child safe.”
Lies.
I don’t believe him. He’s probably trying to butter me up so I don’t run to the cops.
“Are we done here?”
“I dunno, princess,” he mutters. “Are we? Except for our random hook-up so I can get you pregnant.”
I immediately blush furiously. The heat crawling up my neck and burning my skin into backing down and shutting up.
I stare at him, willing my pulse to slow, but it just thunders wildly in my ears. “So, what? I just lie here and let you use me like some object?”
“Is that what it felt like the other day?”
“I didn’t feel anything.”
“Didn’t feel that way when your sweet cunt squeezed my cock and you came. You’re the one who dropped the bomb about being pregnant. I was going to take this slow. “
“You’re an idiot if you thought your father was believing that.”
“It didn’t matter. I showed up at a dinner I was requested to go to. You were just supposed to sit there and look pretty. Nothing more.”
I exhale. “Then tell the doctor I’m not pregnant.”
“Hard pass.” His gaze slowly descends my body, lingering too long on places I wish he wouldn’t. “I’m starting to like the idea.”
I swallow hard, trying to push past the knot in my throat. His words wrap around me, but beneath that, there’s an undeniable pull. An electric tension I can’t deny even if I wanted to.
“You’re mine, Sienna. Not just because of this damn contract or the stupid deal we made. You’re the only thing I want in this life that doesn’t make me want to punch a wall.”
His honesty cuts sharper than any insult.
I blink, trying to steady myself, but he’s not done. He reaches out, fingers brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear, thumb ghosting over my cheek.
“And you’d better get used to it.”
The room feels electric, and I want to pull away, to shove him, but my body betrays me with a small shiver.
“Don’t get cocky,” I whisper, voice trembling more than I want to admit. “Outside these walls, I’ll play my part. But I’ll never want you.”
He grins, victorious. “Challenge accepted. But, this time, I’ll make sure you can’t deny it when you’re begging me for more.”
Those words break the spell he has over me, and I pull away from his touch, putting some inches between us.
“You better pray you get me pregnant before the end of the month,” I ground out, the words making me sick to my stomach. “Because it’s going to start feeling like rape.”
Ben’s expression turns dark.
For a moment, his jaw tightens, nostrils flaring as if he’s fighting the next thing in his head.
Then, without another word, he turns sharply and strides toward the door. The weight of his steps reverberates through the room like those hidden thoughts demand to leave his mouth.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath before slamming the door behind him.
I’m left standing there. My heart pounding in the silence at his sudden departure.
Ben has never left a conversation without the last word.
I got under his skin like he’s been getting under mine.
For a minute, I feel bad. My empathy hitting me fast with how cruel that was to say.
But it’s true.
I don’t want to be pregnant with a man who’s using me for his own personal vendetta.
For his empire.
I won’t get a love story. There won’t be that special someone who wants this with me because he wants to be.
It’ll just be me fighting against a man who isn’t human.