The Confrontation

Sienna's lips twisted into a cynical curve. "Mr. Knox, is this some kind of sick joke? Yesterday, you treated me like a criminal. You practically accused me of stalking your family. And let's not forget my name happens to be the same as your deceased ex-wife. Are you sure you want to hire someone so 'suspicious'?"

Roman’s jaw tightened. He knew she was throwing his own insults back in his face. His dark eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. If Hazel had not spent the entire morning crying for this exact woman, he would have never swallowed his pride to stand in this rundown hallway. He had pulled her background file on the drive over. She was a woman who had just returned from overseas. She had zero financial struggles. Yet her very first move in Alden City was applying for a maid position at Onyx Bay Villa? If she was not targeting him or the Knox Group, what was she after?

Before Roman could formulate a sharp retort, the rusty elevator doors down the hall screeched open. Two middle-aged women stepped out, lugging grocery bags. They paused, their eyes widening at the sight of the tall, impeccably dressed man blocking Sienna's door.

"Wait... is that him?" one neighbor whispered loudly, her gaze fixed on Roman's sharp profile. "That's Mr. Knox, right? The billionaire from the financial news?"

Roman despised public spectacles. His thick brows slammed together, forming a harsh crease over his nose.

Without another word, he reached out, his large hand wrapping securely around Sienna's slender forearm. He shoved her backward into the apartment and stepped inside, pulling the door shut behind him with a resounding slam.

Muffled voices drifted through the thin wood. "Are you sure? Why would a VIP like Roman Knox come to our cheap building?"

"And why did that woman look like she was trying to keep him out? Doesn't he have a fiancée? They've been engaged for five years..."

The gossip slowly faded as footsteps retreated down the corridor. Sienna yanked her arm out of his grip, rubbing the spot where his fingers had dug in. She crossed her arms, her chin lifting defiantly. "They make a fair point, Mr. Knox. A man of your status shouldn't be caught dead in a neighborhood like this."

Roman ignored her jab. He stepped further into the small living space, his sharp gaze sweeping over the modest furnishings. A chill washed over him. Framed artwork hung symmetrically on the pale walls. Lush green potted plants sat on the wooden coffee table, bringing life to the room. On the entryway console, a fluffy teddy bear sat propped against a stack of mail.

For a dizzying second, Roman felt like he had been transported back six years.

He remembered the early days of his marriage. He remembered his wife bustling around their shared space, her eyes bright with excitement.

"We need more paintings!" she had chirped. "And plants. Greenery makes everything feel so much calmer."

"Look! I put a little bear by the door. That way, someone is always greeting you when you come home from work..."

Roman blinked, shaking away the ghost of his past. He looked down at the woman standing before him. She possessed the same stunning, expressive eyes as Sienna Croft. It was no coincidence. She walked like her. She decorated like her. She even dressed in the same understated, elegant style.

She was intentionally mirroring his dead wife.

Sienna Croft had been a somewhat famous artist. She frequently shared her life, home decor, and inspirations on social media. Anything posted online lived forever. If this woman wanted to mimic his late wife to get his attention, the blueprint was readily available.

His dark eyes landed on a steaming french press sitting on the kitchenette counter.

A hollow, humorless laugh escaped his throat. He unbuttoned his windbreaker and lowered himself onto the cheap fabric sofa with the natural grace of a predator. He leaned forward, poured a dark liquid into a spare mug, and held it up. "Do you enjoy coffee as well, Ms. Sienna?"

Sienna kept her distance, her expression guarded. "Yes."

Roman took a slow sip. A sharp, mocking smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Arabica beans."

Sienna said nothing.

Roman traced the rim of the ceramic mug with his thumb. "What a shame. You went to such great lengths to copy my wife's mannerisms. You meticulously decorated your apartment to mimic her exact tastes. But the coffee... the coffee ruins the illusion."

He set the mug down on the glass tabletop with a harsh clatter. "My wife loved coffee, just like I do. But she preferred Robusta. She never touched Arabica beans."

Sienna froze. A surge of bitter irony swelled in her chest.

She laughed, the sound cold and brittle. "Oh, I see. Your ex-wife loved Robusta."

Back when they were married, she had noticed Roman preferred Robusta beans. Desperate to share his interests and please him, she had lied and claimed she loved Robusta too. If he had ever paid an ounce of real attention to her back then, he would have known she only drank Arabica when he was not around.

"I knew it. You are doing this on purpose," Roman snarled, his patience snapping. His dark eyes drilled into her, burning with icy fury. "What is your endgame? Why are you trying so hard to be a cheap imitation of a dead woman?"

Sienna walked over and took a seat in the armchair opposite him. She poured herself a cup of the dark brew, her movements steady despite the rapid beating of her heart. "What do you think my endgame is?" she countered, taking a sip. "Maybe I idolize your late wife and want to honor her. Or maybe I want to twist myself into someone you like so I can seduce you. Which scenario strokes your ego more, Mr. Knox?"

Roman’s jaw locked. "If your goal is to get into my bed, you are wasting your time. Drop the act."

Sienna let out a lazy, exaggerated yawn. "I know. Because you never loved her anyway. No matter how perfectly I imitate Sienna Croft, you won't care. Am I right?"

Roman glared at her, his silence speaking volumes.

Sienna leaned forward, her gaze turning venomous. "Tell me something, Mr. Knox. If my true goal was to seduce you, shouldn't I be imitating your fiancée instead? Blair Croft, right? The woman who went from being your sister-in-law to your bride-to-be. You must love her very deeply to make a leap like that."

The words hit their mark. Roman’s face darkened, the muscles in his neck tightening. "Keep Blair out of this," he warned, his voice a low, threatening rumble. "I am engaged to her because it was my wife's dying wish."

Sienna’s fingers tightened around her mug until her knuckles turned white.

"Her dying wish?" Sienna echoed, her voice terrifyingly calm while a storm raged inside her.

Those words felt like a physical blow. Six years ago, they had framed her, tortured her, and left her to die in a fiery explosion. And now, this monster had the nerve to claim his engagement to the woman who destroyed her was her own dying wish?

She forced herself to take another sip of coffee to hide the violent tremor in her hands. "Wow. Your wife must have been an absolute saint. Even on her deathbed, she was busy wrapping her husband up in a bow and giving him away to her sister."

Roman’s eyes flashed with lethal intent. "Watch your mouth. You are crossing a line. I will not tolerate you speaking about her like that again."

He pulled his phone from his pocket, broke eye contact, and dialed a number. He issued a short command and hung up.

A heavy, suffocating silence blanketed the room. Minutes ticked by until heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway. The apartment door swung open without a knock. Merrick, Roman’s stoic assistant, strode inside holding a sleek leather folder.

Merrick placed a thick stack of papers onto the coffee table. "Ms. Sienna, this is your employment contract. Please review it carefully. If you have any concerns regarding the terms, let me know. We are willing to accommodate reasonable requests."

Sienna set her mug aside and picked up the document. She flipped through the pages, her eyes scanning the dense legal jargon.

"This says I am hired as a general servant," Sienna noted, tapping a manicured nail against a specific clause. "But I made it clear my primary focus is the little girl. Hazel. For the time being, I need to dedicate my shifts exclusively to her care, not scrubbing floors or doing laundry for the rest of the staff."

Merrick nodded, pulling out a pen. "Understood. We can amend section four to classify you as Miss Hazel's personal caretaker. Any other issues?"

Sienna continued reading, pausing to renegotiate her hours, her break times, and her boundaries regarding Roman’s personal space. Merrick proved to be efficient and professional, quickly drafting adjustments in the margins.

Roman remained seated on the sofa, seemingly ignoring them. He stared out the small, smudged window, his profile cast in shadows. He looked distant, his thoughts locked away behind an impenetrable wall of ice.

It took nearly half an hour of back-and-forth negotiation before the contract was finalized.

Merrick pushed the revised document across the table. Sienna took a deep breath, picked up the pen, and signed her name with a sharp, fluid motion.

The ink dried on the page. It was done. Her plan to infiltrate Onyx Bay Villa was officially in motion. She was finally going to be close to Hazel.

As soon as the folder snapped shut, Roman stood up. He adjusted his coat, ready to leave without another word. Just as his hand reached the doorknob, his phone buzzed violently in his pocket.

He pulled it out and accepted the call.

"Sir!" The elderly butler’s voice echoed loudly from the speaker, laced with raw panic. "Sir, you need to come back right now!"

Roman straightened, his posture instantly rigid. "What is it?"

"It’s Ms. Blair!" the butler cried out, the sound of a child weeping frantically in the background. "She barged into the house and went straight to the nursery! She dragged Miss Hazel out of her bedroom! She’s screaming at the child, calling her a fake! Please, sir, hurry!"