Chương 8
Another knock.
“Claire, please.”
The word please sounded strange coming from her.
I walked toward the door.
I looked through the peephole.
Sienna stood alone.
No cameras.
No reporters.
No assistant.
Just a woman who had once sat across from me at dinner and pretended to care about my life.
She looked different.
Less polished.
More tired.
I opened the door but kept the chain locked.
“Sienna.”
Her eyes moved past me.
She saw the apartment.
The baby supplies.
Then she saw Dominic.
Her expression changed.
Not fear.
Recognition.
“You’re with him.”
The way she said it bothered me.
Like she had discovered something.
Not like she had seen someone helping me.
“That’s not why I’m here,” she said quickly.
“Then why are you here?”
She swallowed.
For the first time since I knew her, she looked uncertain.
“I need to tell you something about Grant.”
I almost laughed.
Everyone suddenly needed to tell me something about Grant.
Everyone except Grant.
“What?”
Sienna looked down the hallway.
Then back at me.
“He’s not only trying to get custody.”
A chill moved through me.
“What else?”
Her voice dropped.
“He’s trying to prove the baby isn’t his.”
I stared at her.
The words did not make sense.
“He asked for a paternity test.”
“Yes.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
Sienna’s eyes filled with something I could not identify.
Guilt.
Maybe.
“He doesn’t want the test because he doubts you.”
I waited.
“Then why?”
She took a breath.
“Because if the test proves she’s his, he has a bigger problem.”
I looked at her.
“What problem?”
Sienna looked directly at me.
“He told people he couldn’t have children.”
“He told people he couldn’t have children.”
The hallway suddenly felt colder.
I stared at Sienna through the narrow opening in the door.
“What?”
She looked uncomfortable.
Not the carefully uncomfortable expression she used at charity events when cameras were nearby.
This was different.
This looked like someone who had been carrying something too heavy for too long.
“Grant told everyone he was infertile.”
I felt my fingers tighten around the edge of the door.
“When?”
“Years ago.”
“Why?”
Sienna looked away.
“That’s the part I don’t know.”
I almost closed the door.
Not because I didn’t believe her.
Because I was exhausted from discovering new versions of the same person.
Every time I thought I understood Grant, another piece appeared.
Another lie.
Another thing hidden behind a carefully polished surface.
“Claire.”
Dominic’s voice came quietly from behind me.
I did not turn around.
“What does she want?”
Sienna heard him.
Her eyes moved toward him.
Then back to me.
“I know you have no reason to trust me.”
“That’s correct.”
She nodded.
“I deserve that.”
The admission caught me off guard.
Sienna had always been confident.
Even when she was hurting people, she looked composed.
That was one of the things that made it difficult.
People expected villains to look like villains.
They expected guilt to show up on someone’s face.
Sometimes it did not.
Sometimes it wore expensive clothes and smiled at dinner parties.
“I need to know something,” I said.
Sienna waited.
“Did you know about the pregnancy before the divorce?”
Her expression changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
“Yes.”
The answer hit harder than I expected.
“You knew?”
“I knew you were pregnant.”
“And you still helped him tell people I was lying?”
Her eyes dropped.
“I didn’t tell anyone you were lying.”
“No.”
My voice became quieter.
“You just let him do it.”
She swallowed.
“Yes.”
The honesty hurt more than another excuse would have.
Because excuses were easy.
People built entire lives out of them.
But guilt was different.
Guilt sat quietly.
It waited.
“Why are you here now?”
Sienna looked at the floor.
“Because I thought he would eventually calm down.”
I stared at her.
“And?”
“He didn’t.”
The hallway remained silent.
“He’s getting worse.”
Dominic stepped closer.
“Define worse.”
Sienna looked at him carefully.
“More people involved.”
“What people?”
“His family.”
That made something shift.
The Kingsleys.
I knew enough about them to understand what that meant.
Grant was powerful because of money.
But his family had influence that existed beyond money.
Old connections.
Old relationships.
People who answered calls because of history, not just business.
“What are they doing?” Dominic asked.
Sienna hesitated.
“Preparing.”
“For what?”
She looked at me.
“For the possibility that the baby changes everything.”
I felt anger rise.
“She’s not a business asset.”
“I know.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“People keep saying they know.”
Sienna looked at my daughter.
“She’s not an asset to me either.”
That surprised me.
A little.
Not enough to forgive her.
But enough to listen.
“Then why did you help him?”
Her face tightened.
The answer took time.
“I thought I was helping myself.”
There it was.
The ugly truth.
Not a dramatic confession.
Not a perfect apology.
Just something human.
“I was scared,” she continued.
“Of what?”
“Of losing everything.”
I almost laughed.
“Everything?”
She nodded.
“My job.”
“Your job?”
“My reputation.”
I looked at her.
“You mean the things you gained by helping him destroy mine?”
She closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
The answer was painful because it was not satisfying.
I wanted her to be cruel.
Cruel people were easier.
You could hate them.
But scared people were harder.
Scared people made terrible choices and sometimes understood exactly what they had done afterward.
“Why should I believe you now?” I asked.
“You shouldn’t.”
That answer surprised me.
Sienna continued.
“I’m not asking you to trust me.”
“Then what are you asking?”
“To let me give you something.”
She reached into her bag.
Dominic immediately moved.
“Slowly.”
Sienna froze.
Then nodded.
She pulled out a small envelope.
“I kept copies.”
“Of what?”
“Emails.”
My eyes narrowed.
“Between you and Grant?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She looked embarrassed.
“Because I knew one day I might need proof.”
The words bothered me.
Not because they sounded false.
May you like
Because they sounded familiar.
Everyone around Grant eventually learned the same lesson.
