Sienna stood by the window, cradling the child in her arms. The view outside was suffocating—towering trees obscured the sky, their dense canopy casting shadows that seemed to echo the weight of her own confinement. The estate felt vast and isolating, the heavy atmosphere of a deep courtyard trapping her like a forgotten bird in a gilded cage.
As evening fell, the stillness was disrupted. Cars began arriving, their headlights cutting through the encroaching darkness. The sound of doors slamming and muffled voices carried through the house. The housekeeper soon came to take the child, leaving Sienna standing alone in the dimly lit room.
Half an hour later, the child was returned, cradled in Elijah’s arms. His imposing figure filled the doorway, his expression unreadable.
Sienna quickly reached out to take the child, her heart racing. But instead of handing the baby over, Elijah held both of them, pulling her into his embrace.
Her body tensed in resistance, but she dared not struggle for fear of hurting the baby. “Mr. Morgan, please don’t,” she murmured, her voice trembling, her words a plea rather than a command.
He smirked, his gaze sharp and teasing. “Don’t what? Don’t want the child?” His voice dripped with mockery as his cool lips brushed her cheek.
Sienna turned her face away, her lower lip trembling as she bit down to suppress the tears welling in her eyes. What did he think of her? What did he see when he looked at her—a toy to amuse himself with?
After he had teased her enough, he finally handed the baby over. “It’s late. Put him back in the crib,” he instructed, his tone casual, as if the intimacy of moments ago had meant nothing.
Relief washed over her like a fragile reprieve. She carefully placed the child in the crib, her hands trembling slightly. But just as she straightened, Elijah’s presence was upon her again, his tall frame pressing against her back as she leaned over.
His breath tickled her ear, his voice low and intimate. “Be good, and I’ll arrange for you to see your brother tomorrow.”
Her hands gripped the crib’s railing tightly, her knuckles white. “You’ll be seen,” she whispered, fear lacing her words.
“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured, his lips grazing her ear. “Be good.”
Shame, despair, and helplessness coursed through her as she bit her lip to keep herself from crying out. The man who towered over her, relentless in his control, showed no sign of mercy despite having claimed her body just the night before.
Suddenly, the sound of a voice broke the oppressive silence from outside the room.
“Elijah, are you here?”
It was Courtney.
Sienna recoiled in alarm, her wide eyes darting toward the door. “Stop!” she hissed, her voice barely above a whisper. “Your wife is here!”
But Elijah didn’t even flinch. “Don’t worry about her,” he said with chilling indifference, his actions unrelenting. “She’s nothing.”
His disregard for the situation only seemed to fuel his intensity. Sienna’s heart pounded in terror. She didn’t even register the venom in his words; she just wanted it all to end.
The footsteps grew louder, each one echoing closer and closer. They were almost at the door.
Sienna’s face drained of color, her entire body trembling with fear. If she was caught in such a compromising situation with Elijah in his wife's house, she could already imagine the fallout—a scandal that would ruin her completely.
"Elijah, stop now," she whispered desperately, her voice barely audible.
Finally, he relented, finishing quickly. Without missing a beat, he moved away, his expression calm as he straightened himself and adjusted his clothes.
With an air of indifference, he walked to the door and opened it, the tension in the room palpable. Courtney stood there, poised to enter, her hand half-raised. Elijah pushed past her without hesitation, brushing her aside as if she were invisible.
From where she stood, Courtney couldn’t see Sienna hidden behind the screen, but the heavy, musky scent in the air told her everything she needed to know. Her sharp eyes darted toward the room as she caught the sound of uneven breathing from within. The scene unfolding in her mind twisted her face with hatred, and her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
Just as she was about to storm into the room, Elijah glanced back over his shoulder. “Weren’t you looking for me?” he asked coldly, his voice a pointed challenge.
Courtney froze, then quickly schooled her expression, forcing a smile. “Yes, Elijah, I needed to talk to you.” Her voice was sickeningly sweet now, her demeanor shifting to gentleness as she followed after him.
Their voices and footsteps receded into the distance. Left alone, Sienna slid to the floor, her strength drained. Tears blurred her vision as she hugged her knees, the weight of shame and fear crushing her.
--
The next day, Sienna requested leave and went to visit her brother in prison.
A black business car was waiting outside the Morgan Family estate, its tinted windows gleaming under the sun. Elijah’s assistant, Liam, was behind the wheel, his expression unreadable as he opened the door for her.
At the prison, when Sienna finally saw her brother, she covered her mouth to stifle a sob. Gavin sat across from her in a gray prison uniform, his face marred with fresh bruises. It was clear he had been in a fight.
"Gavin, why did you get into a fight again?" Sienna asked, her voice tight with anxiety.
Gavin lifted his head, his sharp eyes dark with anger. “Sienna,” he growled, “tell me the truth. Are you with Elijah?”
Her heart skipped a beat. Panic surged through her veins. “I’m not,” she lied, her voice unsteady.
“Don’t lie to me!” Gavin roared, slamming his fists against the table. The loud bang drew the attention of a nearby guard.
“479, maintain discipline,” the guard barked, his tone stern.
