The next morning, Sienna woke to the irritating buzz of her second alarm, face still buried in yesterday’s contract notes. Coffee had done nothing. Wine had done worse. Her sleep, if it could even be called that, had been filled with strange, fragmented dreams—whispers, the smell of blood, a child crying.

She shook them off.

Adrian Wolfe wasn’t going to win. Not by intimidation, not by gas lighting, and definitely not by making her question her own sanity.

She dressed like armour — black slacks, cream blouse, bold red lipstick. No jewellery, no weakness. If he wanted to fight dirty, she'd give him corporate warfare in stilettos.

At the Office

The moment she stepped onto the 35th floor, a wave of tension met her.

Eyes shifted. Conversations stopped mid-sentence.

What now?

Rachel rushed over, wide-eyed. “Did you see the news?”

“No, I haven’t even—”

“Here.” Rachel shoved her phone at Sienna.

On the screen was an industry blog—low-tier gossip but still widely circulated. The headline made her stomach drop.

Wolfe International Exec Accused of Breach — Internal Power Struggle Brewing at Newly Acquired Company?

Below it: a blurred photo of her exiting Adrian’s office last week, clearly mid-argument.

Sienna’s hands curled around the phone. “What the hell is this?”

“It leaked early this morning. Someone submitted it anonymously.” Rachel looked panicked. “They're implying you are the cause of the instability.”

Sienna’s blood ran cold. “This wasn’t an accident.”

“It gets worse,” Rachel whispered. “PR’s already trying to spin it. But it’s out. And people are—” she hesitated, “—talking.”

“Let them talk,” Sienna said, voice sharp. “They’ll forget by next week.”

But as she marched toward her office, every footstep echoed with betrayal. She knew who had leaked it.

Or at least, who had let it leak.

And his name started with Wolfe.

Later That Day

Sienna barged into his office unannounced again, fury practically crackling from her skin.

“You leaked it,” she accused.

Adrian looked up slowly from a document. “Come in. Close the door.”

“I said—you leaked that story. You painted me as unstable. Disruptive.”

He didn’t answer. Just tapped a pen against the glass desk. Calm. Calculating.

“Do you think if you humiliate me enough, I’ll just quit?” she snapped.

Adrian stood and walked toward her. Not rushed. Not apologetic.

“You’re still assuming this is about making you quit,” he said, voice low. “It’s not.”

“Then what is it about?”

He stopped a breath away. “It’s about reminding you where you stand. You keep forgetting.”

She laughed bitterly. “No. I remember exactly where I stand. What I don’t understand is why you’ve made me your personal obsession.”

For once, something flickered across Adrian’s face. Brief. Almost pained.

“You’re not my obsession,” he said. Then added, “You’re my responsibility.”

Sienna blinked. “What the hell does that mean?”

He looked away. “It means I’m not going to let you destroy yourself. Not again.”

That stopped her cold.

“Again?” she echoed. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Adrian’s jaw tightened. He stepped back like he’d revealed too much.

“Forget I said that.”

“No,” she said, voice rising. “You don’t get to throw something cryptic like that in my face and then retreat behind your damn poker face!”

“Sienna—”

“What do you know about me? About my past?”

His silence was answer enough.

Sienna stepped back, heart pounding.

“You’ve been watching me,” she whispered. “Longer than just this merger. Haven’t you?”

Adrian didn’t move. Didn’t deny it.

And that was worse than any confession.

That Night

Sienna sat alone on her apartment balcony, clutching a cup of tea she hadn’t sipped, staring at the skyline that suddenly didn’t feel so far away from the cage she was now in.

She felt... exposed. Like a page from a diary she didn’t remember writing had been read aloud by a stranger.

Adrian knew something. Something deep. Something before Wolfe International. Before she built herself into the woman she was now.

And she hated that he held it over her.

She hated even more that a part of her wanted to know what it was.

Why he looked at her like that.

Why she felt like this.

Meanwhile…

Adrian sat in his private study, fire crackling across dark wood panels, old files spread across his desk. One page in particular lay open: a school transcript, faded and water-damaged.

Blake, Sienna M.

He traced the name with his thumb. Behind it: a single photo, stapled to the corner.

The girl had her mother’s eyes. Determined even back then. Unafraid.

“You don’t remember me yet,” he murmured. “But you will.”

He closed the file and locked it back inside the drawer.

Not yet.

The past had teeth.

And when Sienna remembered it… she’d either run again.

Or she’d finally understand why he could never let her go.