He Is Her Boss

Refusing to back down from her fierce defiance, Declan simply shifted his posture. He sat perfectly still in the chair across from her desk, his broad shoulders seeming to absorb the tension in the room. Instead of retreating, he bluntly dropped the ultimate bombshell.

"My grandmother wants me to marry you," Declan stated. His voice was calm, carrying no trace of affection. He held her gaze as he added, "She expects me to marry you, and then take care of you and your children for the rest of your life. So, Miss Caldwell, are you willing to marry me?"

He spoke the words of a proposal, yet his dark eyes remained indifferent and cold. It was painfully clear to Sienna that this offer was merely the mechanical execution of a familial duty. He was looking at her the same way he might evaluate a corporate merger.

A sudden, incredulous laugh escaped Sienna's lips. Amused by the sheer audacity of his arrangement, she lifted a hand and casually fluffed her long hair. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk, and leveled a mocking stare at the billionaire.

"Take a good look at me, President Hawthorne," Sienna challenged, her tone laced with irony. "Do I look like someone desperate for marriage?"

She was undeniably beautiful, radiating a sharp, striking confidence that filled the small office, proving she lacked nothing in independence.

Declan’s jaw tightened. "Are you saying you do not want to marry me?"

"You hold immense power, and you have a handsome face," Sienna declared flatly, waving a dismissive hand. "But I really don't care for you."

A startled expression briefly cracked Declan’s composed features. For a man accustomed to endless admiration, her blunt rejection was foreign. However, that surprise quickly morphed into a deep, silent wave of relief. The lack of physical attraction was purely mutual. He did not want to marry her either.

"I see," Declan said, his tone fractionally lighter. "Then I hope you can visit my grandmother in person to explain your firm refusal." Only Sienna possessed the leverage to deny the Hawthorne matriarch's wishes. He felt responsible for his debt, but in his heart, his protective instincts were already reserved for another woman.

Sienna narrowed her eyes, assessing his sudden shift in demeanor. "You really acquired VX International Group?"

"For ten billion dollars," Declan casually confirmed, treating the staggering figure like pocket change. He stood up, adjusting his suit jacket. "From now on, I will be your boss. Since marriage is off the table, don't worry. I will look after you in my capacity as your employer."

Unfazed by his staggering wealth and the immense corporate power he wielded, Sienna flashed a breezy, dismissive smile. "Okay, let's just do that then. Goodbye, President Hawthorne."

Declan paused mid-step. He stared down at her, taken aback by her open, unapologetic disregard. She did not attempt to soften the dismissal or show a shred of deference. With a tight nod, he turned and exited the office, the heavy door clicking shut behind him.

The moment he vanished, Sienna let out a long breath. Before she could process the bizarre encounter, a sharp knock sounded. Stella poked her head into the room, her eyes wide with anticipation.

"Sienna, what were you talking about with President Hawthorne?" Stella whispered urgently, stepping inside. "Does he like you?"

Sienna frowned, massaging her temples. "Who said that?"

"Everyone on the floor is saying he spent the whole meeting staring at you," Stella informed her, eager to share the toxic office gossip.

Annoyed that Declan was already causing trouble for her reputation, Sienna efficiently dispelled the rumor. "There is nothing going on. He is the boss, and I work under him. We were discussing my contract. That is all."

Stella looked slightly disappointed but nodded and slipped out.

Needing a moment to ground herself, Sienna retreated to a quiet corner of her office, stopping in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. She stared out at the city skyline. Taking a steadying breath, she pulled out her phone and dialed a number she had memorized years ago.

The line rang several times before a familiar voice echoed through the speaker. "Hello? May I know who this is?"

Sienna’s nose burned instantly. Tears welled in her eyes as the sound of his voice hit her chest. "Dad," she whispered. "It's me. I'm Sienna."

A heavy silence fell over the line, followed by a sharp intake of breath. "Sienna?" Warren’s voice trembled, overwhelmed with a sudden, massive wave of joy. "Where have you been for the past five agonizing years? I searched everywhere. I couldn't find you!"

Hearing his raw emotion erased the distance between them. Sienna wiped a tear from her cheek, fighting through her own tears. "Dad, I'm sorry. I lived abroad all these years. I just returned to the country for work."

"Thank God," Warren choked out, his words thick with deep, tearful apologies. "As long as you are healthy and safe. Sienna, it's my fault. I am so sorry. I should never have driven you away."

"Let's forget about the past, Dad," Sienna comforted him, forcing her voice to remain steady. She had survived five years of brutal hardship, and she refused to dwell on the pain now. "What's done is done."

"Please, come home soon," Warren pleaded, sounding older but happier.

Sienna hesitated. She internally dreaded the thought of stepping back into that toxic house, facing the people who had orchestrated her misery. But for her father, she would endure it. "I will come visit in two days," she promised.

"Okay. I will be waiting." Warren sighed heavily.

Sienna hung up the phone and pressed a hand to her chest. It was enough that her father was safe. She would face the rest of the family when the time came.

Her quiet moment was shattered by another knock on the door. Vice President Gavin walked in, carrying an elegant velvet-lined box with extreme care.

"Sienna, I'm here to bring you something," Gavin announced, setting the heavy box on her desk.

Sienna turned away from the window, her brows drawing together. "What is this?"

"Take a guess."

Sienna read the gold lettering embossed on the lid: Apex Residence No. 1. She crossed her arms. "You better tell me directly."

Gavin smiled, thrilled to deliver the news. "Apex Residence No. 1 is an ultra-luxurious condominium. Three hundred and seventy square meters, lavishly renovated, and fully furnished. It is worth a staggering one hundred and twenty million dollars. It is ready for you to move in today." Gavin popped the box open, revealing six pristine keys and a sleek access card. "You deserve it."

Sienna’s expression instantly turned glacial. The temperature in the room plummeted. "Is this for me?"

"Yes. This is a special perk directly from President Hawthorne. He upgraded your housing arrangement to the best property in the city. Aren't you surprised and excited?"

"Take it away," Sienna ordered firmly, her voice devoid of warmth. "I don't need it."

Gavin blinked, his smile dropping. "Wait, what?"

"I refuse to accept any material favors from the Hawthorne family," Sienna stated flatly. A deep, agonizing childhood trauma flared in her chest. Her mother had died a brutal, honorable death to save Declan, leaving Sienna to suffer through a painful, miserable childhood without her protector. She would never let the Hawthorne family buy their way out of their guilt with real estate.

"Sienna, you can't be joking," Gavin stammered. He was thirty-five and single, harboring a crush on her since the morning, but he never expected a woman to reject a fortune. "This is an exclusive perk!"

"Tell President Hawthorne that I don't need special treatment here." Sienna reached out and pushed the velvet box across the desk. "Take it away."

"Don't do this to me," Gavin groaned. "How am I supposed to explain this to him? Just accept it!"

"Send it back. I really don't need it. Thank you." Sienna turned her back to him.

Helpless and defeated, Gavin picked up the box. He took the elevator to the top floor, stepping into the main office Declan had commandeered at Lumiere.

"President Hawthorne," Gavin reported nervously, placing the box on the glass desk. "Sienna won't accept this, no matter what I said."

Declan stared at the rejected keys. His dark eyes clouded over. He leaned back in his leather chair, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He had fully anticipated her stubborn refusal, knowing her fiery pride. Yet, frustration gnawed at him. He desperately preferred repaying his massive life debt with material wealth, no matter the cost, rather than binding himself to Sienna in a suffocating marriage. If she rejected his money, how was he supposed to clear the slate?

Meanwhile, across the city at the Caldwell Residence, Warren stepped through the front door with a newfound spring in his step. He found his wife, Lydia, lounging on the living room sofa, watching television.

"Lydia," Warren called out, his voice ringing with pure joy. "I received a phone call today. Guess who it was?"

Lydia turned her head, looking at him with mild curiosity. "Who?"

"It was Sienna!" Warren beamed, his eyes crinkling. "She has been living abroad all these years. No wonder I haven't been able to contact her. She is finally back!"

The atmosphere in the room shifted drastically. Lydia’s expression darkened instantly, twisting into a mask of pure malice. The curiosity in her eyes was replaced by a sharp glare.

"Why are you still thinking about her?" Lydia snapped, tossing the remote aside. "She embarrassed you in the past. Don't tell me you are letting her come back to this house."

"Lydia, please," Warren sighed, his tone turning pleading. "I've been thinking about it a lot. I truly believe she was misunderstood back then. It has been five long years. Can't we just let it pass?"

"Misunderstood?" Lydia scoffed loudly, ruthlessly clinging to the past. She crossed her arms. "Blaire photographed her frequenting those questionable places in the middle of the night! The evidence was solid. You saw the scandalous photos yourself!"

Warren flinched at the harsh reminder. Seeing the immovable anger on his wife's face, he realized arguing was pointless. Exhausted by the conflict, he shook his head and silently headed upstairs.

The moment Warren disappeared, Lydia practically lunged for her mobile phone. She frantically scrolled through her contacts and dialed her daughter’s number.

"Hey, Mom," Blaire answered.

"Blaire, guess who is back?" Lydia hissed into the receiver, pacing the living room.

"Who?"

"That little bitch, Sienna. She contacted your father today. She has returned."

"What?" Blaire’s voice spiked. "How does she have the nerve to come back?"

Lydia sneered, spitting out bitter, venomous warnings. "I am dead certain she has only returned to steal our share of the family assets. She must have seen the company's recent development and wants a piece of the pie. But with me here, she won't even get to lay a finger on it. It will be over my dead body before she touches your inheritance."

On the other end of the line, a sharp, cold sneer echoed through the speaker.

"Don't worry, Mom," Blaire boasted confidently, her voice dripping with sinister intent. "Since I was able to drive her away five years ago, I can easily orchestrate her ruin and drive her out again."