BOUND TO THE WRONG CALLAHAN

Chapter 1

If tonight was supposed to be the happiest night of her life, why did it feel like a funeral?

The diamond on Sienna's finger caught the light. Three carats. Flawless. Just like everything else in her life was supposed to be.

She stared at herself in Noah's bathroom mirror. The woman staring back should be happy. Designer dress. Professional makeup. Hair styled by the same person who did her mother's.

She was going to marry Noah Callahan. The man both families picked for her.

So why did she feel like she was dying inside?

"Sienna?" Noah's voice drifted through the door. "The photographer is here."

"Coming." But her feet wouldn't move.

The engagement photos. Another performance in the show their families orchestrated. She pressed her palms against the cold marble counter and took a deep breath. The faint scent of Noah's cologne lingered in the air, expensive and impersonal. This was what both families had planned for years. The merger disguised as romance.

Noah Callahan was everything they wanted. Old money meeting new money. The Callahan real estate empire joining Blake Industries. The Callahan name carried more weight than she liked to admit, and more shadows than the society pages ever printed. He opened doors. He remembered the calendar. He brought flowers his assistant picked out. He never raised his voice. He never surprised her.

The deal.

Even thinking the word made her chest tighten.

A flash of memory hit her. Cool sand beneath her feet. The smell of ocean air and bonfire smoke. A voice rough with want saying her name like a prayer.

She shook her head. Not now. Not tonight.

She splashed cold water on her wrists, careful not to disturb her makeup, and walked out.

Noah stood by the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. His broad shoulders filled out his navy suit. His dark hair was styled to precision.

He turned when he heard her heels clicking on the hardwood, and his face brightened with that practiced expression she'd seen since childhood.

"You're gorgeous." He kissed her cheek. His lips were warm but they registered as nothing. They always registered as nothing.

"Thank you." The words came out automatic.

The photographer, a thin woman named Margaret who shot all the society engagements, bustled around setting up. She posed them by the window, on the leather couch, by the fireplace. Each position felt rehearsed.

"Stunning," Margaret said, snapping away. "Just like your parents' engagement photos, Sienna. I shot those too."

Of course she did. Everything in their world followed the same patterns.

"Now, Sienna, tilt your head. Show off that gorgeous ring."

Sienna tilted her head. She leaned into Noah's chest like she'd been trained to do since they were announced as a suitable match at the Midsummer Charity Gala.

But as the camera clicked, a strange thought hit her. What would it feel like to laugh in a picture? Not smile on command. Just laugh because something was funny.

The thought scared her. She pushed it down deep where all her other dangerous thoughts lived.

Margaret finished an hour later. The photos captured exactly what they were. Two people from the right families doing what was expected.

After she left, Noah poured himself wine. "We should get ready. The engagement party starts in two hours."

Two hours. Two hours until the night that would lock her cage forever.

I could still run.

The thought appeared from nowhere. Loud and desperate.

"I need to go home and change," she said.

"Of course. I'll see you there." He kissed her forehead. "You'll be radiant at the party."

She nodded and left, stepping into the private elevator.

The Blake family car slid through Manhattan traffic. She stared out the tinted windows, watching the city blur past. People living their lives. Making their own choices. Free in ways she would never be.

At home, her mother was waiting. "Darling, we need to go over the seating chart one more time. Eleanor called and..."

Sienna let the words wash over her. Nodded at the right moments. Said yes when expected. Played her part.

Two hours later, she stood in front of her bedroom mirror in a green silk dress. The woman staring back was flawless. Hollow. A doll in an expensive dress.

Her phone buzzed. A text from Noah. "Can't wait to see you tonight. You're everything to me."

Everything. She was everything to him except herself.

I'm marrying a man I barely feel.

The truth hit her like a punch. But there was no time to think about it. The car was waiting.

The Blake family car pulled up to the Callahan estate just as night fell. The house blazed with light. Cars lined the driveway. Bentleys, Maseratis, Rolls Royces.

Sienna stepped out, her green dress sweeping the ground. Her stomach twisted. Something felt wrong tonight, though she couldn't name it. Like standing at the edge of a cliff in the dark.

"You look incredible, darling." Her mother stepped beside her, diamonds catching the light. "The Callahans have outdone themselves."

They had. The entire front of the house was covered in white roses. A string quartet played near the entrance. Waiters moved between guests carrying champagne.

"Remember to smile," her mother whispered. "Everyone is watching."

Everyone was always watching. That was the price of being a Blake.

Eleanor Callahan met them at the door, cream silk and pearls, her silver hair styled the same way it had been for twenty years.

"Sienna, you look radiant." She kissed both cheeks, her perfume heavy and expensive. "Everyone is dying to congratulate you."

She led them through the marble entry into the main ballroom. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. White and gold fabric covered the walls. It was expensive and hollow.

"Noah is over by the bar," Eleanor said. "He's been asking for you."

Sienna moved through the sea of faces. Business partners of her father. Society wives. Politicians. They all congratulated her as she passed, their voices blending together into meaningless noise.

"There she is." Noah appeared at her side, handsome in his black tuxedo. He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. The move was smooth, practiced, ready for photos. "You're breathtaking."

The crowd around them sighed. Someone took a picture. She tilted her head just right.

"The party is amazing," she told him.

"Mother insisted on having the best of everything for you," Noah said, his arm sliding around her waist. "Nothing is too good for my bride."

My bride. The words should have made her happy. Instead, they wrapped around her chest like chains.

Because somewhere in the dark corners of her memory, she remembered what it meant to be wanted for real. Not claimed. Not arranged. Just... desired.

The thought hit her so hard she almost stumbled.

Where did that come from?

"I want to introduce you to some people," Noah said. "Business friends of Father's."

He led her through the crowd, stopping every few steps to shake hands and talk business. She nodded and said all the right things.

The evening dragged on forever. Dinner was served. Seven courses that tasted like sawdust.

Speeches were made. Her father talked about joining two great families. Noah's father talked about legacy and tradition. Everyone raised their glasses and toasted their future.

But as the evening went on, something inside her started to crack.

Maybe it was the way Noah kept calling her "his bride" instead of her name. Maybe it was the way everyone gazed at her like she was a prize instead of a person.

Or maybe it was the growing sense that she was watching someone else's life from the outside. That the real her was buried so deep she might never claw her way back to the surface.

The party continued. Dancing started. Laughter filled the air. Business deals were whispered over cocktails.

She moved through it all like a ghost.

"You're quiet tonight," Noah said when they had a moment alone. "Everything alright?"

"Just taking it all in. It's incredible."

"It is, isn't it?" He looked around with satisfaction. "Mother worked for months on every detail."

So why did it all seem so hollow?

"Noah." Eleanor Callahan appeared at their table, her face glowing with excitement. "I have wonderful news."

Noah straightened in his chair. Sienna felt his body tense.

"What is it, Mother?"

"Your brother called this afternoon. He's coming tonight."

The words hit Noah like a punch. His face went pale, then red, then pale again. His hand tightened on his champagne glass.

"Landon is coming here? Tonight?"

Landon. The name hit something buried deep inside her. A spark she didn't understand. A sound that felt familiar and wrong and dangerous all at once. For a moment, she swore she could taste whiskey and sin on her tongue, feel hands that knew exactly how to touch her.

She shook her head. Where did that come from?

"He's here, darling. Arrived about an hour ago. He's been getting ready upstairs." Her face glowed with joy. "Isn't it wonderful? The whole family together."

Noah didn't look like he thought it was wonderful. He looked like he'd seen a ghost. And something inside Sienna was screaming danger.

The air in the ballroom seemed to shift. Conversations grew quieter. People kept glancing toward the entrance like they were waiting for something to happen.

"Does Father know?" Noah asked.

"Of course. He's the one who convinced Landon to come. Said it was time to put the past behind us." She squeezed Noah's shoulder. "This is a new beginning."

Sienna watched with growing confusion. Who was Landon? And why did his name make her heart race for reasons she couldn't name?

"I should go find him," Noah said, starting to stand.

"No need." Her eyes shone with tears. "Here he comes now."

She pointed toward the ballroom doors, and every head in the room turned to look.

The doors opened.

A man walked in, and everything changed.

He was tall, broader than Noah, with dark hair that was too long for a family gathering like this.

Even from across the room, she could see the ink that covered his arms beneath his tuxedo sleeves, dark lines that snaked up from his wrists and disappeared under the expensive fabric.

A silver earring caught the light when he turned his head. His tuxedo fit well, but he wore it like a costume.

There was something dangerous about him. Something that made every eye turn and every conversation stop.

He moved through the crowd with confidence, but not the practiced confidence of old money. This was something rawer. Wilder.

Like a wolf that had learned to walk among sheep but never forgot what it really was.

Sienna's chest tightened. Her hands started to shake. Because there was something about the way he moved that felt like remembering something terrible and wonderful at the same time.

Whispers started around the room. "Is that really him?" "He looks so different." "Five years..." "The black sheep is back."

The crowd parted as he walked toward their table. Noah stood slowly, his face a mask that didn't hide his tension.

"Landon."

"Noah."

The two men hugged briefly. It was awkward. Forced. Like strangers pretending to be family.

"I wasn't sure you'd come," Noah said.

"Neither was I." The voice hit her like lightning. Low. Rough around the edges. A voice that whispered through her dreams and made her wake up gasping.

No.

No, no, no.

This couldn't be happening.

There was history between them. Something complicated and painful that hung in the air like smoke. Eleanor watched them both with desperate hope.

"How long has it been?" Noah asked.

"Five years. Give or take."

Five years. Landon had been gone for five years. But that wasn't what made her blood turn to ice. It was the realization creeping up her spine like cold fingers.

"Well," Noah said, clearing his throat. "I'm glad you're here. There's someone I want you to meet."

He turned to her, his hand reaching out. She took it automatically, rising from her chair with the grace drilled into her since childhood. But inside, she was falling apart.

Because she knew who this was.

She knew before he turned. Before their eyes met. And she knew it would destroy everything.

"Landon, I'd like you to meet my fiancée."

The stranger turned to face her.

Dark brown eyes. The color of whiskey. The color of sin. The color that haunted her dreams and made her remember things she'd tried so hard to forget.

It was him.

The man from that night. The stranger who had touched her like she was something precious and dangerous. Who had made her feel alive for the first time in her life. Who had disappeared before dawn and left her with nothing but the memory of his hands and his mouth and the way he said her name like a prayer.

He wasn't a stranger.

He was Noah's brother.

"Sienna Blake," Noah continued, his voice sounding like it was coming from underwater. "Sienna, this is my brother Landon."

Landon's eyes locked onto hers. She saw the exact moment he recognized her. Saw the shock hit him like lightning. His face went blank, carefully controlled, but his eyes... his eyes burned with the same fire that had consumed them both that night.

Neither of them spoke.

Neither of them moved.

The silence stretched between them, heavy and dangerous and full of secrets that could destroy everything.

"Sienna?" Noah's voice sounded far away. "Are you alright?"

She couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't think past the rushing sound in her ears and the way her heart was trying to beat its way out of her chest.

Landon extended his hand. "It's nice to meet you."

His voice was steady. Polite. Like they had never met before in their lives.

Like that night never happened.

She stared at his outstretched hand. At the fingers that had traced patterns on her skin. At the palm that had curved around her face when he kissed her like the world was ending.

If he says my name, I'll shatter.

"Sienna?" Noah's voice was concerned now. His hand tightened on her arm. "Sweetheart? You look pale."

She had to move. Had to speak. Had to do something other than stand there while her carefully built life crumbled around her.

But she couldn't.

Because one look at him, and she knew. The secret she had buried was about to ruin them all.

Chapter 2

*Last summer*

The beach house in the Miami was supposed to be Sienna's escape. Two weeks away from the city, from the constant pressure, from the endless talks about her future. Her mother thought she needed time to "find herself" before the family started making serious marriage plans.

If only she knew how right she was.

The house sat on a cliff overlooking the ocean, all glass and white stone. Beautiful in the cold way that expensive things were beautiful. But tonight, she didn't want beautiful. She wanted real.

That was how she ended up at the bonfire on the public beach.

She could see it from her bedroom window. The orange glow against the dark sky, the shapes of people dancing around the flames. People her age who were just living.

She slipped out after midnight, trading silk pajamas for jeans and a t-shirt. If the security guard her father insisted on woke and found her gone, her parents would know by dawn. But she was too restless to care.

The sand was cool beneath her bare feet as she walked toward the light and laughter.

The fire crackled and sparked, sending embers into the night sky. Someone had a guitar. Someone else had a cooler full of beer. Everyone was golden in the firelight, alive and free.

She stood at the edge of the group, suddenly shy. She didn't know how to do this. How to be normal.

"You look lost."

The voice came from behind her. She turned and her breath caught.

He sat on a piece of driftwood, camera in his hands. The firelight played across his face, highlighting the strong line of his jaw, the ink that covered his arms. A silver earring caught the light when he moved. His camera lens caught the flame, and for a second she thought it wasn't just fire that burned in his eyes.

"I'm not lost," she said, though it wasn't entirely true. "Just watching."

He lowered the camera and really looked at her. His eyes were dark brown. The color of coffee. Of sin.

"You're not from around here," he said.

"What gave it away?"

"The way you're standing. Like you're waiting for permission to breathe." He stood up, tall and broad beneath his black t-shirt. "I'm Landon."

"Sienna."

"Well, Sienna, you want to sit? Fire's warmer up close."

She should go back. Blakes didn't sit around bonfires with tattooed strangers who saw too much.

But she sat.

He offered her a beer from the cooler. She had never had beer from a bottle before.

It tasted like freedom.

"What do you do?" she asked, nodding toward his camera.

"I take pictures. Try to capture truth." He took a drink. "What about you?"

"I..." The question caught her off guard. What did she do? She went to charity lunches. She attended board meetings for organizations she didn't care about. She smiled and nodded and waited for someone else to decide her future.

"I don't really do anything."

"Everyone does something."

"Not me. I just exist."

He studied her for a long moment. "That sounds lonely."

It was. God, it was so lonely. But she had never said it out loud before.

"Sometimes," she whispered.

Her phone buzzed. A text from Noah. *Hope you're having a good time at the beach house. Thinking of you.*

Her stomach twisted. She turned the phone off without answering.

"You want to get out of here?" Landon asked suddenly.

"Where would we go?"

"Does it matter?"

For the first time in her life, the destination didn't matter.

"What if someone sees me?"

"Who's going to see you out here?"

He leaned closer, his voice dropping low. "You scared of getting caught being real?"

Yes. Terrified. Because getting caught meant facing consequences, and she had never been brave enough to face consequences before.

"Maybe," she whispered.

"Good," he said, standing and offering his hand. "You should be scared. Means it matters."

She stared at his outstretched hand. This was her choice. Take it and step into something dangerous. Or go back and pretend this night never happened.

She took his hand.

He led her away from the fire, down the beach where the sand was soft and the waves crashed against the shore. They walked in silence, the ocean stretching endlessly beside them.

"Tell me something real," he said when they stopped walking.

"What do you mean?"

"Something true. Something that matters."

She thought about all the proper answers she had been trained to give. But standing here with him, she wanted to tell the truth.

"I'm supposed to get engaged soon. My parents and his parents have it all planned out. The merger, the wedding, the life we're supposed to have together."

"And you don't want it?"

"I don't know what I want. I've never been allowed to figure it out."

He stopped walking and turned to face her. "What if you could have anything? Right now. What would you choose?"

"I'd choose to feel something real. Just once."

The words hung in the air between them. Dangerous. Honest. True.

"I can show you real," he said, his voice rough. "But you're going to remember this night long after you wish you could forget it."

The warning should have scared her.

Instead, it made her want him more.

"Show me."

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.

The world stopped.

This was nothing like the polite kisses she'd had before. This was fire and hunger and desperation. His hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer. She could feel the ocean breeze against her skin, the soft sand beneath her feet. Could taste the beer on his tongue and something else, something that was purely him.

When he pulled back, she was gasping.

"Your place or mine?" he asked, his voice rough with want.

She thought about the beach house. The pristine white rooms. The place where she was supposed to be perfect, even when alone.

"Yours," she breathed.

He took her hand and led her to a small cottage set back from the beach. Weathered wood and windows that looked out onto the ocean.

She paused at the threshold, heart pounding. The point of no return.

"You sure about this?" he asked, reading her hesitation.

When he looked at her like that, like she was something precious and dangerous, she forgot everything.

"Yes."

He kissed her again, slower this time. Deeper. Like he was trying to memorize the taste of her. His hands found the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it over her head.

The cotton fell to the floor.

"You're beautiful," he said, his voice raw with honesty.

And for the first time in her life, she believed it.

He lifted her easily, carrying her to his bed. The sheets were soft and smelled like ocean air and him.

When he touched her, there was nothing gentle about it.

His hands mapped every inch of her skin. His mouth followed, leaving her gasping and shaking and begging for more.

"Please," she whispered against his ear.

"Please what?"

"Don't stop."

He laughed against her throat. "I'm just getting started."

When he finally moved over her, when he looked into her eyes and asked if she was sure, she had never been more certain.

"Yes."

He made love to her like the world was ending. Like this was the only moment that mattered.

She lost herself in him. In the way he said her name like a prayer. In the way he held her like she was something he was afraid to lose.

When it was over, they lay tangled together in his sheets. His fingers traced patterns on her bare shoulder. She could feel his heartbeat against her cheek, still racing.

"I should go," she whispered, even though it was the last thing she wanted.

"Should you?"

She lifted her head to look at him. His hair was messy from her fingers. His eyes were dark and satisfied and something else she couldn't name.

"I don't even know your last name," she said.

"Does it matter?"

Lying here in his arms, nothing else seemed important.

"No," she admitted. "It doesn't."

He pulled her closer, and she let herself pretend this was real. That she was the kind of woman who followed her heart instead of her obligations.

They made love again as the sun started to rise. Slower this time. Sweeter. Like they were trying to make it last forever.

But forever had to end.

When she woke up, he was gone.

There was a note on the pillow beside her, written in dark ink on paper torn from a notebook.

*You're going to be okay. Don't let them make you forget who you really are.*

She held the note to her chest and cried. For him. For her. For the night that changed everything and the morning that took it all away.

She got dressed and walked back to the beach house as the sun rose over the ocean. She couldn't stop herself from looking back at the cottage, hoping to catch one last glimpse of him.

It was already empty. Like he had never been there at all.

Back at the house, she took a shower that washed away the physical evidence but couldn't touch the memories. She folded the note carefully and hid it in the bottom of her jewelry box, beneath the pearls her grandmother had given her.

Her one rebellion. Her one secret.

Two weeks later, she was back in the city. Back to charity lunches and board meetings.

Three days after that, her father told her supposed boyfriend Noah Callahan wanted to marry her.

She said yes.

Because that was what Blake women did. They took what they were given and didn't ask for more.

But when she remembered strange arms around her, she wanted to say no.

Sometimes, in the dark of night, she would touch the note hidden in her jewelry box and remember what it felt like to want something just for herself.

She remembered him.

And she knew she always would.

Chapter 3

Time stopped.

Sienna stared at the hand Landon held out to her. Those fingers. She knew those fingers. Had felt them trace patterns on her skin, cup her face, tangle in her hair while he whispered her name in the dark.

Now they waited for a polite handshake.

Her chest felt tight. Like someone had wrapped chains around her ribs and was pulling. The ballroom was full of people but all she could see was him.

"Sienna?" Noah's voice came from somewhere far away. "You okay? You look..."

Pale. She knew she looked pale. She could feel the color draining from her face.

She forced her hand to move. Reached out. Let her fingers touch his.

Lightning shot up her arm.

The same spark. The same fire. He felt it too. His jaw tightened, something flashed in his dark eyes before his face went blank.

"Nice to meet you," he said. His voice was steady. Controlled. Like they were strangers at a business meeting.

Like he had never kissed her until she could not breathe.

Like that night meant nothing.

"You too," she managed to whisper. The words felt like glass in her throat.

Their hands dropped. The moment broke. But her whole body was shaking now. Tiny tremors that started in her fingertips and spread outward.

"Landon's a photographer," Noah said, his arm sliding around her waist. "Travels all over the world. Must be exciting."

"It has its moments," Landon replied. He was looking at Noah now. Not at her. Like she had already been dismissed.

The words hit her like a slap.

"What kind of photography?" she heard herself ask. Her voice sounded strange. High and thin.

"Street photography mostly. Real people living real lives." He shrugged. "Nothing fancy. Nothing that would interest someone like you."

Someone like you. The words were polite but they cut deep. Someone rich. Someone privileged. Someone living in a world of appearances.

Someone not worth his time.

She wanted to scream. Wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he admitted he remembered. Until he admitted that night had mattered.

Instead she smiled. The same empty smile she'd been wearing her whole life.

"That sounds fascinating," she lied.

More people came over to welcome Landon home. He handled them all with the same polite coldness he'd shown her.

She watched him slip through the crowd like a shark forced into a tux. Every handshake a calculated strike. He knew exactly what to say. Knew exactly how to play the game.

But she could see the anger underneath. The way his hands clenched when he thought no one was looking.

He hated this. All of it.

He hated her too. That much was clear.

The band started playing again. Couples moved onto the dance floor. Noah took her hand.

"Shall we?" he asked.

She let him lead her onto the floor. Let him spin her around while cameras flashed and people applauded. The perfect couple celebrating their perfect engagement.

But over Noah's shoulder, Landon watched them dance. His face was a mask but his eyes burned with something dark and dangerous.

Hatred. It had to be hatred.

What else could it be?

The song ended. Noah dipped her low and the crowd cheered. More pictures. More congratulations.

Eleanor Callahan appeared beside them, her face glowing. "That was beautiful, you two. Just beautiful." She clasped her hands together. "Noah, darling, don't you think now would be the perfect time?"

Noah's face lit up. "You're right, Mother. Absolutely right."

Sienna felt her stomach drop. "Perfect time for what?"

"Ladies and gentlemen," Noah called out, his voice carrying across the ballroom. The band stopped playing. Conversations died. Every head turned.

"If I could have your attention for just a moment," Noah continued, reaching into his jacket pocket.

No. No, no, no.

But he was already dropping to one knee. Already pulling out a velvet box. Already opening it to reveal the biggest diamond she'd ever seen.

Eight carats. Maybe more. It caught the light and threw rainbows across the walls. The crowd gasped. Champagne corks popped somewhere behind her. The sound was like small explosions.

This was not the same ring. The first time Noah had proposed, three months ago in the privacy of his penthouse, he'd given her a three carat diamond. Beautiful. Expensive.

This was different. This was a statement. A declaration. A piece meant for public consumption.

"Sienna Blake," Noah said, his voice strong and clear. "You have made me the happiest man alive. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

The diamond sparkled in his outstretched hand. Pure, flawless perfection. Stunning. Worth more than most people would see in a lifetime.

It was also a shackle.

She could feel three hundred pairs of eyes watching her. Waiting. The cameras kept flashing. Someone's perfume was too strong, making her stomach turn.

Her mother stood at the edge of the crowd, tears streaming down her face. Her father nodded approvingly. Eleanor Callahan had her hands pressed to her heart.

And there, in the back of the room, stood Landon. His face was stone. His eyes were ice.

But for just a second, she caught it. A tiny crack in the mask. His jaw twitched. His hands clenched at his sides. Something raw flashed across his face before he buried it.

He did remember.

And it was killing him too.

She thought about the three carat stone she'd worn for months. The one Noah had given her during his first proposal. The one she'd slipped off her finger in the park just days ago.

This one was bigger. More expensive. More beautiful.

It would be an even tighter prison.

"Sienna?" Noah's voice was soft but urgent. He was still on one knee. Still waiting.

The crowd was getting restless. The silence stretched. Someone coughed. Someone shifted their feet.

Say no. The thought came from somewhere deep inside her. Wild and dangerous and desperate. Say no and run. Say no and choose yourself for once.

But then she looked at her mother's face. The pride and hope shining in her eyes. Her father nodding. Eleanor Callahan with her hands pressed to her heart.

The Blake family name. The business merger. The expectations of three hundred people.

And somewhere in the back of the room, Landon. Watching. Waiting to see what she'd do.

Part of her wanted to say yes just to hurt him back. To show him she didn't care either. That she could move on just as easily as he'd walked away from her. The pettiness of it shocked her but it was there, real and ugly. And maybe, just maybe, if she said yes loud enough, clear enough, she could convince herself it was true. That she'd moved on. That what happened between them meant nothing now.

Maybe saying yes was the only way to prove she was over him.

Even if it was a lie.

She swallowed the word no. Buried it deep where all her other rebellions went to die.

"I..." she started, her voice barely a whisper.

The silence stretched longer. People were starting to murmur.

"Yes," she finally choked out. The word felt like swallowing glass.

"I'm sorry?" Noah said, leaning closer. "I couldn't hear you."

"Yes," she said louder. Strong enough for the cameras to catch. Strong enough for Landon to hear. "Yes, I'll marry you."

The room erupted. Applause thundered. More champagne corks popped like gunfire. The band started playing.

Noah slipped the band onto her finger. It anchored her hand. So heavy she could barely lift it. He stood and kissed her while the crowd cheered.

Over his shoulder, Landon turned and walked away.

He didn't look back.

The rest of the night passed in a blur. More congratulations. More pictures. More speeches about the joining of two great families.

Sienna smiled through all of it. Showed off her new diamond. Let people gush over its size. Played the part of the happy bride to be.

But inside, she felt hollowed out.

Nothing except the weight dragging her hand down.

The party finally ended around two in the morning. The last guests headed to their cars. The staff began cleaning up.

"That was perfect," Eleanor said, hugging Sienna tight. "Absolutely perfect. It looks beautiful on you, dear. And now we're truly family." She squeezed Sienna's hands, her eyes bright with satisfaction. "Blood and marriage. Nothing stronger than that."

The words felt like a warning. Like chains being locked into place.

"Thank you," Sienna replied automatically.

"We should start planning the wedding right away," Eleanor continued. "June would be lovely. Or maybe May. We'll need to book the cathedral soon."

Planning the wedding. Of course. Because now that she'd said yes, everything else would follow. The dress. The flowers. The music. The rest of her life mapped out in careful detail.

"That sounds wonderful," she said because it was what was expected.

Noah drove her home to the Blake estate. When they reached her house, he walked her to the door.

"Thank you for tonight," he said, taking her hands. "For saying yes. For making me the luckiest man in the world."

"Thank you for this," she said, looking down at the massive stone. "It's beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you." He kissed her forehead. His cologne was expensive. Subtle. Nothing like the scent of salt and sand she remembered from that night. "Sweet dreams, my love. I'll call you tomorrow and we can start making plans."

She watched him drive away, then let herself into the dark house. Her parents had stayed at the party later, probably discussing wedding details with the Callahans.

She climbed the stairs to her room and sat down at her vanity. The diamond threw a cold rainbow across her skin.

She opened her jewelry box and found the note hidden beneath her grandmother's pearls. The paper was soft and worn from being folded and unfolded so many times.

*You're going to be okay. Don't let them make you forget who you really are.*

Her hands shook as she held it. The note felt like it was burning her fingers. Like it was mocking her.

She had forgotten. She had let them make her forget. And now it was too late.

"Landon," she whispered into the dark room. The name tasted like regret. Like everything she'd lost and would never get back.

She hated herself for saying it. Hated herself for still caring about a man who had looked right through her tonight.

The stone caught the lamplight. Beautiful and heavy and cold.

Like a shackle around her finger.

Tightening with every breath.