Chapter 3

I had once argued against keeping toxic flowers in a house where people ate and slept.

Sienna had cried for an entire evening. "Does Viv hate me so much she won't even let you put flowers out for me, Marc?"

Marcus had pulled Sienna behind him and sneered at me. "Who would eat flower petals on purpose? Stop looking for excuses to bully her."

Now I was proving him wrong.

The bitterness was staggering — sharp and chemical, coating my throat like paint. My stomach convulsed. I forced it down.

Marcus dropped the gift box. It shattered on the marble. He lunged at me, slamming his palm against my back, then forcing my jaw open with both hands, scraping at my tongue.

"Spit it out!" he shouted. "Are you insane?"

I thrashed. My body was already going numb on one side. I clenched my teeth and bit down until his fingers bled.

He hissed and struck my face. The crack echoed through the foyer.

"Just because Ethan doesn't want you, you pull this?" he snarled. "Where's your dignity? Sienna and Ethan belong together. After three years in that basement, haven't you figured that out?"

He ordered the housekeeper to bring activated charcoal and forced it down my throat.

I vomited until the world tilted sideways. I collapsed onto the cold marble and laughed — a sound like tearing paper.

"Dignity?" I rasped. "You didn't investigate. You didn't ask a single question. You took her word and threw your own sister into the street. That's Langford dignity?"

Marcus had no answer.

The front door burst open.

Ethan's assistant — a young man in a rumpled suit — rushed in, panic white across his face. He looked past me to Ethan.

"Mr. Cross! Sienna is missing. She left the penthouse twenty minutes ago. No one can reach her. She left a note saying she can't face everyone knowing Victoria is still — still causing problems."

Ethan and Marcus locked eyes. Then, in perfect unison, they turned and stared down at me on the floor.

"So that's what this was," Marcus said quietly. "The suicide stunts, the theatrics — all a distraction so you could do something to Sienna. Where is she? What did you do?"

I had no idea where Sienna had gone. But this was useful. If they were angry enough, they might finish what I kept failing to do myself.

They didn't wait for answers. They dragged me — barefoot, vomit-stained, half-conscious — back to the penthouse.

—

Ethan's penthouse occupied the top three floors of a building that bore his name. The living room alone was larger than most apartments.

He didn't bother with questions. He grabbed my jaw and wrenched my face toward his.

"Where is Sienna?"

I looked into the eyes of the man who had once been my husband and felt nothing but exhaustion.

When I first met Ethan, I had pulled him from a wreck and saved his life. When Sienna stole Marcus's attention and I became a joke in our social circle, Ethan proposed. He said it wasn't just gratitude. He said I was the only real thing he'd ever found.

After Sienna appeared, Ethan's gaze drifted. Late nights at the office became late nights with her. Their charity galas, their whispered conversations, their shared laughter — none of it included me.

When Sienna disappeared, Ethan punished me for the first time. His security team held me down while lawyers served papers stripping me of every asset. The stress triggered a miscarriage I hadn't known was possible. I lost the baby on the bathroom floor of the basement. Alone.

I said nothing now.

A flicker of cold fury crossed his face.

"Bring the kit," he told Marcus.

Marcus sedated me just enough to sharpen every nerve without letting me pass out. Ethan's head of security conducted the interrogation. Clinical. Precise. Each method left marks only where clothing would cover.

"Kill me," I whispered between blows.

Ethan watched from his chair, legs crossed, a glass of whiskey untouched beside him.

"One more time," he said. "Where is Sienna?"

I raised my head. Blood ran from my lip to my chin. I smiled.

"Sienna?" I said. "I killed her. You all love her so much, don't you? Go ahead. Kill me. Avenge her."

Ethan's eyes went black. He rose, crossed the room in three strides, and pressed a blade to my throat.

The elevator chimed behind him.

Sienna stepped out, shopping bags in hand, cheeks flushed from the autumn wind.

"Oh! Everyone's here!" she said brightly. "I went to pick up dessert. I wanted to surprise — why is there blood on the floor?"