(Sienna Vale POV)
I've learned that silence tells you everything you need to know about a man.
There's the anxious kind—the type who clears his throat every two seconds, desperate to impress.The arrogant kind, who thinks paying for your time means paying for your soul.And then there's the dangerous kind.The kind whose silence feels like gravity.
Tonight's silence is the last kind.
The door clicks shut behind me, sealing me into a room where the city hums below and tension hums above. The suite glows in gold light and shadow, the kind of expensive quiet that only men like him can afford.
"Good evening," I say, the agency voice slipping easily into place—warm, low, confident. "You must be—"
"Sienna."
The voice freezes me mid-step. Deep. Controlled. A faint rasp at the edge.I know that voice better than I know my own heartbeat.
Impossible.It can't be.
He stands. The shadows part, and the world I've been balancing on snaps clean in half.
Adrian Kade.
"Oh God. You again. What do you want from me? You already own me during the day."
And now—my new client. This is the one that the agency is excited about. The one I was warned, don't mess this up.
He doesn't look shocked. If anything, he seems satisfied—like he's been waiting for this moment.
Today at the office, there'd been nothing—no change, no hint, not a single flicker of acknowledgment about what transpired the night before.
Fine by me. Let it die in that hotel room.
But I should've known better. Adrian Kade isn't the type to walk away from something that intrigues him. And apparently, I've managed to do the impossible—I've piqued his interest.
Too. Damn. Bad. For me.
The corner of his mouth lifts, half amusement, half warning.
"It wasn't hard to figure out your schedule," he says, voice soft but razor-sharp. "But then I thought—my assistant disappears every Wednesday and Thursday night right after work. Always the same time. Always the same look in her eyes."
I can barely breathe, I'm so pissed. Rolling my eyes, "I could have been going to the gym." Then I asked the possessive creepy thing, incredulously, "You followed me?"
He tilts his head. "I invest in things that interest me, Ms. Vale. You're… an expensive investment."
"Don't," I snap. "Don't do that condescending thing where you make this sound like a transaction. You don't know why I'm here."
"Then tell me." His tone sharpens. "Because I'm curious how my assistant—the one who lectures me about ethics—ended up on a payroll that charges by the hour."
"Oh, please, I don't lecture you. Since when? Cry me a river."
Shame rises, but anger burns hotter. "I took this job because you underpay your staff—and because my brother's freedom costs more than my pride."
Something flickers in his expression—a crack in the armor.
"Why didn't you come to me? I could've helped you," he says quietly.
"You? Help someone without profit? Don't make me laugh."
He steps closer, slow and deliberate. His cologne hits first—clean smoke and cedar. My pulse betrays me, racing.
"Everything about you is a contradiction," he murmurs. "You hate me, but you came here anyway." he paused and let that sink in. "You knew I wouldn't walk away. I don't lose."
"I didn't come for you."
"But you're here."
His fingers brush a strand of hair from my face. I flinch but don't move away.
"I could end this," he says. "End the agency contract. Double your salary. Triple it. You'd never have to do this again."
"And then what?" I whisper. "You'd own me instead?"
His silence answers for him.
I step back. "I'd rather sell my time than my soul, Mr. Kade."
He exhales, gaze unreadable. "Then sell me tonight, Sienna. Let's see which one of us pays the higher price."
My breath hitched on a barely audible sound.He sees me.Not just the efficient assistant.Not just the expensive escort.But the raw, cornered woman who is desperate to save her family.
That realization—more than his physical proximity—made my skin feel too tight.
"Fine," I finally choked out, the word brittle. "You paid the fee. I don't break contracts, Mr. Kade. Not even for the devil himself."
His lips curved into that familiar, infuriatingly superior smile. "Good girl. I knew you were reliable, Ms. Vale."
He turned toward the bar, pouring amber liquid into a crystal. The small distance he created somehow made his presence larger."A reliable investment," he added.
I watched him, every muscle in my body vibrating with restrained rage and fear.Not fear of him—but fear of what came next.Fear of the consequences of what I was about to do.
Would I lose my job, the only dependable income keeping my life from collapsing?Or worse—would I lose a part of myself?
I needed to move—needed to finish this before the sight of him, tall and immaculate, eroded what little resolve I had left.
I crossed to the heavy mahogany table by the window. My fingers were steady as I unclipped the strap of my small evening purse. The soft thud it made sounded like the corporate world colliding with the shadowed one I now occupied.
He turned, glass halfway to his lips, gaze locking on mine. The golden light caught the predator's eyes.
I met it head-on. No shame. No apology.I was Sienna Vale—the woman who worked two jobs, who fought for her brother. I was not his assistant at that moment, and I would not grovel.
My hands found the pearl buttons running up the spine of my borrowed midnight-blue dress. The silk slid against my skin as the fabric loosened. I moved slowly, deliberately—not to entice, but to defy. This was choreography born of necessity, and I was its master.
The dress pooled around my hips, revealing the dark lace slip beneath.
He watched the descent of the fabric, jaw clenched, the drink forgotten in his hand. The silence returned—the dangerous kind.
I stopped, half-undone, chest rising and falling beneath the lace. Stepping forward into the beam of light, I met his eyes one last time before finishing the act.
My voice was low, saturated with venom, carrying the weight of every condescending comment, every late night, every unpaid debt.
"I'll give you what you're paying for, and I'll earn every penny," I said, my tone sharp as glass. "But you're still an ass-wipe to me."
The glass slipped from his hand. It didn't shatter. It landed silently on the thick, expensive rug, the golden liquid bleeding into the fibers like a spreading stain.
Adrian Kade stared at me—eyes blazing, stripped of all the boardroom polish and control he hid behind.
For the first time, I saw the man beneath the legend.And he saw the woman who refused to bow.