Alexander didn't expect her to be up so early.
It was barely six when he walked into the kitchen, expecting silence and maybe a coffee machine humming in the background. But Sienna was already there, barefoot, her hair pulled into a loose bun, sipping from a mug that wasn't one of the fancy ones the staff always arranged.
She looked up when he entered, expression unreadable.
"I didn't hear you come in last night," she said.
"I stayed back. Meetings ran late."
Sienna nodded and looked away.
Alexander hesitated, unsure whether to walk further in or back out and pretend he didn't see the tension in the air.
But Sienna stood up first.
"We need to talk," she said. Her voice was steady, but there was weight behind it. Something deeper.
Alexander folded his arms. "About the dinner?"
"No. About the messages I've been getting. About the calls."
That got his attention.
"What messages?"
She pulled her phone from her pocket and placed it on the counter. "A text came through yesterday morning. Then a call later in the day. Same number. No ID."
He moved closer. "What did they say?"
"That I shouldn't forget why I started." She paused. "And that even a contract has its price."
Alexander's eyes narrowed. "You think it's someone trying to blackmail you?"
"I think it's someone who knows more than they should."
He was quiet for a moment. Then, "Did you respond?"
"No."
"Good." He exhaled, then looked at her seriously. "Sienna, you have to tell me these things the second they happen. This is not something you keep quiet about."
"I wasn't sure if I could trust you," she said plainly.
That stopped him.
The silence that followed was thick, almost loud.
Finally, he said, "You can."
She looked at him—looked—and said, "Then tell me why you chose me."
His brow creased. "What?"
"For this marriage," she said. "You said I wasn't your first choice. But you picked me. Why?"
Alexander didn't answer right away. He walked around the counter, picked up the coffee pot, and poured himself a cup even though it had gone cold.
He sipped it, winced slightly, then set it down.
"I needed someone smart," he said. "Someone who wouldn't crumble under pressure. Someone with a clean record, no scandal, no ties to anyone who could be a liability."
"That's not an answer. That's a job description."
He met her eyes.
"You were the only one who said no before saying yes."
She blinked.
"You challenged me," he continued. "You didn't jump at the offer. You questioned everything. You asked me why. You wanted terms. You didn't flinch."
"And that impressed you?"
"No. That made you dangerous." He paused. "But I liked that."
Sienna absorbed that in silence.
Then she asked, "And now?"
"I still don't know."
It was the closest thing to honesty she'd heard from him.
---
Later that day, Sienna met with Nadia, her friend-turned-personal-assistant. Well, officially. Unofficially, she was Sienna's only link to her past life.
They met at a small café on the edge of the city—low-profile, casual, exactly what Sienna needed.
"You look like you haven't slept," Nadia said as she slid into the booth.
"Because I haven't."
Sienna filled her in on the texts and the call.
Nadia's face tightened. "That's not just creepy. That's personal."
"Exactly," Sienna agreed. "And I think it's someone from before. Someone who knew me before the contract."
"You think it's linked to the reason you agreed to this marriage?"
Sienna nodded slowly. "I think someone wants me to remember it."
Nadia hesitated. "Do you want to remember it?"
Sienna stirred her coffee. "I never forgot. I just stopped talking about it."
There was a long pause before Nadia asked, "And Alexander?"
"He knows the surface reason," she said. "The one I wrote in the contract."
"But not the real one?"
"No."
Nadia leaned forward. "Then maybe it's time you told him."
Sienna looked out the window. "Or maybe it's time I remembered who I was before all of this."
---
That evening, Alexander returned home earlier than usual.
He found Sienna sitting in the living room, dressed in soft blue and curled into the corner of the couch, a book open but unread.
He didn't speak right away. Instead, he stood quietly by the door, watching her for a second.
"I ran a trace on the number," he said finally.
She looked up. "And?"
"Unregistered burner phone. Bought in cash. No cameras near the shop. No luck."
Sienna closed the book and set it down. "So it's someone careful."
"Very." He walked over and sat across from her. "But that doesn't mean they're invisible. We'll find out who it is."
"I want to know why they're doing it more than who."
Alexander studied her. "You think this has something to do with the contract?"
"I know it does."
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Then tell me."
She didn't speak for a long moment.
Then she said, "My brother."
Alexander sat up straighter.
"He was sick," Sienna said quietly. "Years ago. Needed a surgery we couldn't afford. I was working two jobs, barely managing my bills. Then one night, someone made me an offer."
Alexander's expression shifted.
She continued. "An investor. From one of your father's companies. He said I could either take a loan with impossible interest—or I could agree to a 'future consideration.' He never explained what that meant."
"And you agreed."
"I didn't have a choice." Her voice cracked, just barely. "I signed the paper. My brother got the surgery. He survived. But I owed them something. I just didn't know what."
Alexander ran a hand over his face. "And then the marriage proposal came."
"From you. Months later. With my name already at the top of your shortlist."
Alexander looked like he'd been punched. "That wasn't supposed to happen like that."
"Exactly. But it did." She stared at him. "So you see, Alexander. I didn't just marry you because of money. I married you because I was trapped."
He stood up. Walked to the window. Ran both hands through his hair.
"I didn't know."
"I believe you."
He turned. "But I should have."
She nodded. "Yes. You should have."
They stood there, the space between them thicker than silence.
Then he said something that surprised her.
"I'm sorry."
Real. Quiet. Honest.
She nodded again, slower this time.
And for the first time, something shifted between them.
Not trust. Not yet.
But maybe the beginning of it.