Sienna woke up to the scent of brewed coffee and the faint hum of someone talking downstairs.
She checked the time. 8:03 a.m.
She was never the type to oversleep, but last night had been unusually peaceful—no strange texts, no paranoia creeping at the back of her neck. Just that quiet drive and the even quieter moment afterward.
She still felt the warmth of the kiss she'd pressed to Alexander's cheek. It wasn't romantic, not in the fairytale sense. It was gratitude. Maybe comfort. Maybe something else she didn't want to name yet.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Unknown Number: You're getting too comfortable. Don't forget why you're there.
The good mood vanished instantly.
"Damn it," she muttered, typing fast.
She forwarded the message to Alexander and added: Got another one. Just now.
Within seconds, her phone buzzed again.
Alexander: Stay put. I'm on my way up.
---
He didn't knock.
He opened the door like he owned the moment, dressed in tailored black slacks and a dark grey sweater. Still sharp. Still unreadable.
"Same number?"
"Yes," she said, showing him the screen.
He took her phone and turned it sideways, taking a photo of the screen with his. "Jeremy's already running surveillance. This time, we'll catch it mid-transmission."
"I hate this," Sienna said. "I hate feeling watched."
Alexander looked at her carefully. "Come downstairs. Let's eat. Then we talk to Jeremy."
"I'm not hungry."
"You will be when your adrenaline fades."
She gave him a flat look.
But ten minutes later, she was seated at the breakfast table, poking at toast while he poured her coffee himself.
No butlers. No staff. Just the two of them.
"I know this is scary," he said.
"Scary doesn't cover it. Someone out there is keeping tabs on me like I'm a chess piece."
"You're not," Alexander said. "And you're not alone, either."
She didn't answer.
He tried again. "I'm not doing this for the cameras anymore. I want you safe. Not just because of the contract."
That got her attention.
She looked up. "Then why?"
His eyes didn't flinch. "Because somewhere between the headlines and these private moments, I stopped caring about the contract."
Sienna froze.
He meant it. She could tell by the way his voice dipped—calm, not persuasive.
"Things are changing," she said quietly.
"Yes."
"And we didn't plan for this."
"No."
Her fingers tightened around her coffee cup.
"So now what?"
Alexander leaned forward. "Now we stop pretending. We figure this out—both of us."
Sienna nodded slowly. "Okay."
---
Jeremy met them in the study, eyes already bloodshot from hours without sleep.
"The new message was routed through three different layers, but we caught a pattern," he began. "This isn't a hacker-for-hire job. This is someone with inside access to your movements."
Alexander folded his arms. "Someone close?"
"Possibly. But not necessarily a staff member. Could be someone tailing her. Could be a vendor. Could even be surveillance tech we haven't uncovered yet."
Sienna frowned. "Like a tracker?"
Jeremy nodded. "We'll need to sweep your room. Your belongings."
"Do it," Alexander said before she could answer.
Sienna didn't argue.
It was past the point of feeling invasive now.
---
By noon, Jeremy's team had torn apart her room—checked her phone, laptop, handbag, and even the soles of her shoes.
They found a small listening device inside the lining of her purse.
"How long has that been there?" she asked, her voice tight.
"No more than two weeks," one tech replied. "Battery life wouldn't support anything longer."
Alexander took the device and examined it.
Custom-made. Tiny. Expensive.
"We're being hunted," he muttered.
Sienna stood in the corner, arms folded, trying not to fall apart.
Alexander turned to her. "From now on, you don't go anywhere alone."
She blinked. "You want to assign me a bodyguard?"
"No," he said. "I'll go with you."
She raised an eyebrow. "You can't be serious."
"I've already cleared the next three days. Wherever you go, I go."
"And after that?"
"We reevaluate."
There was something dangerously honest in his tone—like he wasn't just protecting her out of obligation.
Like he needed to know she was safe for reasons he hadn't dared to name yet.
---
That afternoon, they visited Sienna's old apartment—the place she hadn't been to in weeks.
It was small, tucked in the middle of a modest neighborhood. Her neighbor, Mrs. Carter, waved excitedly when she saw them.
"I almost reported you missing!" the old woman said, hugging her. "Now look at you. Married to a billionaire!"
Sienna laughed, a little awkwardly. "It's been… a wild ride."
Mrs. Carter turned to Alexander. "Take care of her. She's got a good heart."
Alexander nodded solemnly. "I will."
Once inside, Sienna looked around the apartment. The dust had gathered. Books were still scattered. Dishes she'd forgotten to wash sat in the sink.
"It's strange," she said. "This was home. Now it feels like a memory."
Alexander didn't touch anything. He let her move freely.
"Why'd you bring me here?" she asked.
"To remind you that you have roots," he said. "That your identity isn't tied to a ring or a mansion."
She looked at him, startled.
"You're more than a wife in a contract, Sienna. Don't forget that."
She didn't reply.
But that was the moment she realized: Alexander saw her.
Not just the role she played. Not the image she painted.
He saw the woman underneath.
And for the first time since all this began, that felt safe.
---
That evening, Alexander stood on the balcony outside his study, watching the sunset.
Sienna joined him, her hair tied back, her expression thoughtful.
"You still think we're doing the right thing?" she asked.
He didn't turn. "What do you mean?"
"This agreement. This show."
He exhaled. "We were never just pretending, were we?"
She looked out at the sky. "Maybe not."
Silence again.
Then she said, "I kissed your cheek last night."
He smiled faintly. "I noticed."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"Because I didn't want to scare you off."
She turned to him, searching his eyes.
"I don't scare easily," she said.
He stepped closer. "Then let's stop walking around it."
The space between them narrowed.
Their hands brushed.
No forced gestures. No press watching.
Just the two of them.
And the honesty neither of them had planned for.