Take Care Of Sienna

POV: First-person.

Eleanor snorted, a harsh sound cutting through the biting twilight air of the solemn cemetery. The last of the funeral guests had already begun to depart, their black umbrellas bobbing along the winding gravel pathways.

"He's just an ungrateful brat," she snapped, her voice dripping with disdain as she glared at the freshly turned earth. "He is wasting all his grandfather’s efforts. He didn't even have the decency to show up today."

"Keep your voice down," Victor warned, silencing his furious wife with a sharp gesture. He shot her a stern look before turning back to me. His expression softened just a fraction, though his eyes remained distant. "It’s late, Adeline. Let the old man rest in peace. You need to head home before the impending rain starts pouring."

"I will. Thank you, Uncle Victor," I murmured.

I watched their retreating figures navigate the stone path until they disappeared into the gathering dusk. A profound, hollow sensation washed over me, chilling my bones more than the evening wind. I stood alone before Master Ashford’s covered grave, the scent of damp soil and crushed lilies thick in the air. With the old man gone, the final pillar supporting my fragile marriage had crumbled into dust. It felt as though my toxic relationship with Damian had truly reached its bitter end. The wind would soon die down, the rain would dry, the sun would set, and I would still lose my husband.

"Grandpa, please take care of yourself," I whispered softly into the quiet graveyard. I bowed with deep respect, staring at the carved lettering on the tombstone one last time. "I'll come visit you again soon."

When I finally turned around to leave the gravesite, my breath hitched in my throat. My feet froze onto the damp grass.

Damian stood in silence just a few paces behind me.

He wore a sharp, tailored black suit that blended seamlessly into the darkening surroundings. I had no idea how long he had been standing there. His dark, emotionless eyes were fixed on his grandfather's grave. They looked deep and unreadable, like a dark abyss. He offered no apology for missing the funeral ceremony. He gave no explanation for his glaring absence during the prayers and the burial rites.

Noticing my startled gaze, he shifted his attention to me. "Let's go," he commanded in a low, authoritative tone.

He turned on his heel to walk away, but I stepped forward, desperate to stop him.

"Damian, wait," I pleaded, my voice trembling in the crisp air. "Your grandfather’s gone, so you’d just let it go. You know, he’d given you a lot..." I trailed off, hoping to reach whatever shred of humanity remained buried beneath his cold exterior.

He stopped. Slowly, he looked back over his shoulder. He shot me a sudden, frigid glare that froze the remaining words in my throat. His stare carried a heavy, unspoken warning, piercing through my defenses. Without uttering a single syllable of rebuttal, he resumed his silent march toward the parking lot.

By the time we reached the wrought-iron gates, the sky had turned a bruised purple. The family driver assigned to take me home was nowhere in sight, having left earlier due to Damian’s unexpected arrival. I had no choice but to slide into the passenger seat of Damian’s sleek car.

He started the engine, pulling out onto the dark, winding road.

The long drive stretched out in a dead, suffocating silence. The tension inside the confined space made it hard to breathe. I sat rigid in my seat, pinching my fingers together in my lap. Anxiety gnawed at my insides. I was desperate to ask about Sienna’s critical medical condition. Even though I knew in my heart I did not push her, the gruesome image remained burned into my memory—Sienna tumbling down the grand staircase right in front of me, bleeding onto the marble floor, crying out in pure agony.

The silence dragged on until I could not hold the agonizing suspense in any longer. I swallowed the lump in my throat and broke the quiet.

"How’s Miss Briggs?"

*Screech!*

Damian slammed on the brakes. The sudden, brutal stop threw me forward against my seatbelt. The straps bit into my collarbone, knocking the wind out of my lungs. Before I could brace my hands against the dashboard or recover my breath, Damian unbuckled his own belt.

He lunged across the center console, grabbed my waist with unyielding force, and pinned me back against the passenger seat. Half of his heavy body pressed over mine, trapping me against the leather upholstery. I stared up into his face. His dark pupils exuded a sharp, freezing aura of pure danger, mere inches from my nose.

"Damian..." I flinched, turning my face slightly as I smelled the violent threat radiating from his proximity. His expensive cologne mixed with the scent of raw, unadulterated fury.

"What did you think would happen?" he interrupted, his deep tone dripping with sarcasm and venom. His grip on my waist tightened like a steel vise. "Adeline, do you really think that I won’t divorce you just because of the wooden box that my grandfather gave you?"

My heart dropped into my stomach. A cold sweat broke out across the back of my neck. The funeral had only just ended. We had barely left the cemetery grounds, yet he already knew about the secret locked box Agnes gave me mere hours ago.

Gathering my fragmented courage, I forced myself to meet his furious eyes.

"I didn't push her," I replied with firm resolve, suppressing the bitter ache tearing through my chest. "Damian, I don’t know what’s inside the box that your grandfather gave me. I never thought of keeping our marriage because of it. Fine! Since you wanted to leave so badly, I agree to a divorce, and we’ll settle our divorce tomorrow at the City Hall."

Outside the tinted windows, the heavy rain began to pour. Thick droplets battered against the roof and the glass. The howling wind made the dark, tense atmosphere inside the confined car feel even more oppressive and dangerous.

Damian stared down at me. For a fleeting second, he seemed surprised by my sudden surrender. He clearly expected me to fight to stay, to use his grandfather's dying wish as a shield to drag out our miserable union.

Yet, the surprise melted away. His lips curled into a sinister, mocking smile.

"Sienna’s still in the hospital," he murmured, his voice cutting through the drumming sound of the rain. "Are you planning to throw everything behind by agreeing to divorce now?"

A deep sense of dread pooled in my stomach. I knew that sinister look. He was not going to let me off the hook so easily while his beloved mistress was suffering in a hospital bed.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, terrified of the answer.

"You’ll be taking care of her from tomorrow onward."

With that, he released his punishing grip on my waist. He abruptly sat up straight, retreating to his side of the car. He rested his thin fingers casually on the steering wheel, his gaze becoming dark and deeply thoughtful as he stared out through the rain-streaked windshield.