The car ride home was silent.
Not the comfortable kind—the heavy, charged kind.
Sienna sat with her arms crossed, staring out the window, pretending she wasn't aware of Damien's presence beside her.
But she was.
She was painfully aware of him—the way he sat so still, his jaw tight, his fingers drumming once against his knee before stopping.
He was annoyed.
Good.
Because so was she.
The moment at the event had been humiliating. One second, they'd been standing together, playing their roles perfectly. Then his phone had buzzed, and he'd dropped everything to take the call—leaving her standing there alone, looking like a fool.
She wasn't stupid. She knew business was important to him. But for once, she'd thought—hoped—he'd prioritize her, or at least the image of them as a couple.
Apparently, she'd been wrong.
The car slowed as they pulled up to the penthouse. Sienna exhaled, pushing the door open before the driver could come around. She didn't wait for Damien, stepping inside and heading straight for the bedroom.
She'd barely kicked off her heels when his voice cut through the air.
"Sienna."
She paused, back still turned. "What?"
His footsteps were measured, controlled, as he moved closer. "You've been fuming since we left. Might as well say what's on your mind."
She let out a sharp laugh, turning to face him. "Oh, you want to talk now? That's funny, because back there, you didn't even care if I was still in the room."
Damien sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "It was an important call."
"It's always an important call." Her voice rose, frustration bubbling over. "I get it, Damien. You're a busy man. But if you're going to leave me standing there alone, at least have the decency to warn me."
His brows pulled together. "You think I did it on purpose?"
Sienna folded her arms. "I think you don't care how this affects me."
Damien was silent for a moment. Then he stepped closer, voice lower. "That's not true."
Something in his tone made her stomach flip.
But she was still angry.
"Really?" she challenged. "Because from where I'm standing, it sure feels like I'm just another PR move to you."
Damien's jaw ticked. His eyes flickered with something dark, something unreadable.
Then, before she could react, he closed the distance between them.
Sienna sucked in a breath as he reached out, fingers brushing her wrist.
His touch was light, hesitant—almost as if he was waiting for her to pull away.
But she didn't.
And that was the problem.
She should step back. She should tell him she was still mad, that an apology wouldn't fix everything.
But her heart was pounding, and all she could think about was how close he was.
Damien studied her, his voice quieter now. "You're not just a PR move to me, Sienna."
Her breath caught.
For a moment, she thought he might kiss her.
For a moment, she wanted him to.
But then—he pulled away.
Just like that, the spell was broken.
Damien exhaled, stepping back. "It's late. You should get some rest."
Sienna swallowed, nodding stiffly. "Yeah. I should."
She turned away quickly, heading for the bed—her side of the bed.
Damien didn't say another word as he unbuttoned his cuffs and sat on the edge of the mattress.
Silence stretched between them, thick with everything unsaid.
Eventually, the lights clicked off, plunging the room into darkness.
Sienna lay still, staring at the ceiling, aware of every movement he made beside her.
She should be relieved that nothing happened.
So why did it feel like something had?