Chapter 2

2

Finn Sterling arrived thirty minutes later.

The front door slammed open with enough force to shake the walls. A man in a dark charcoal suit stood in the foyer. He was in his early thirties and undeniably handsome―sharp features with a hint of intellectual refinement, though marred by a habitual frown. Two assistants and a row of bodyguards trailed behind him. It seemed Mr. Sterling was afraid of an unruly wife.

“Sianna.”

He stood in the center of the living room. Shattered glass from a side table I’d knocked over earlier still littered the floor. His mother sat on the sofa, her wrist wrapped in a bandage the maids had applied. She didn't actually need it. I’d used just enough force to hurt, not to break bone.

“You hit her?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I replied.

His expression was complicated. It wasn't pure rage. It was confusion. It was as if a person he’d stepped on for three years had suddenly stood up and bit back. He didn't recognize the woman standing before him.

“You weren't like this before.”

“And what was I like before?”

He went quiet. His mouth opened and closed as he searched for the right words. He needed a description of the old Sianna, but he couldn't find one. It’s impossible to describe someone you’ve never actually bothered to look at. So, he pivoted.

“Apologize to my mother.”

“She swung first.”

I stood up from the sofa to face him. He was about a head taller than me, forcing him to look down. But when I met his eyes, he instinctively shifted his weight back. It was a subtle flinch he couldn't hide.

“Finn,” I said, testing his name. It felt like a foreign word with no emotional weight. “I have three things to tell you.”

“First, your mother isn't going to lay a finger on me again. She’s not strong enough.”

“Second, the rules in this house are changing. I’m not serving anyone. I’m not sucking up to anyone. And I’m not playing the part of a trophy wife anymore.”

“Third―”

I took a step forward, looking past him at the row of bodyguards. They were all in black suits and white gloves, looking well-trained. But I’d faced mutants that were faster and stronger than this entire group combined.

“―Third,” I said, bringing my gaze back to Finn. “We can make this work, or we don't. If we don't...”

I kicked a piece of broken glass out of my way.

“...things are going to get very ugly.”

The room fell into a heavy silence. Finn took a deep breath and unbuttoned his suit jacket. It wasn't a threat; it was a physical reaction to the tension. He needed air.

“You weren't like this before,” he repeated. But this time, his voice had changed. The confusion was replaced by a faint tremor of curiosity.

“Then tell me, who was I?” I asked.

He thought about it for a long time. His assistant tried to chime in, but Finn silenced him with a sharp gesture.

“You were... quiet. You never looked at me. You sat at the far end of the table during dinner. You just nodded at whatever I said. You nodded when my mother insulted you.” His throat moved as he swallowed. “I assumed you didn't have feelings.”

“Feelings?” I laughed. It wasn't a happy sound. I was laughing for the woman who used to inhabit this body. The woman who sat at the edge of her own life and took abuse from her husband and his mother.

“Finn, do you know why she was so miserable?”

He just stared at me.

“It wasn't because of your mother’s slaps. It wasn't because you didn't love her.”

“It was because she didn't even love herself.”

I turned and walked toward the door.

“Dinner is at six. I’m cooking.”

“You know how to cook?”

“I know how to do everything. Including how to end a life,” I said, pulling the door open. “No mushrooms, right? You hate them―just like your mother.”

He stood there, stunned. He’d never told me he hated mushrooms. It was just a small note on the back of a wedding registry list his mother had scribbled―a detail buried in the cache of this body’s memory. The original Sianna had memorized it for three years and never received a single thank you.

Today, I wasn't just memorizing it. If he didn't like what was on the plate, he could say it to my face.