Chapter 5 - Sienna’s Revenge
Two weeks after the catastrophic wedding, Sienna Vale found herself locked out of her luxury Tribeca penthouse—a penthouse that Grant had rented under his company’s name, which was now frozen by Moretti’s corporate asset-freezing injunctions.
Sienna was desperate, humiliated, and furious.
She had given up her career, her reputation, and her dignity to be Grant Kingsley’s trophy wife, only to be dumped on the church steps when his dirty secrets exploded into the open. And now, Grant wasn't answering her calls. He was locked inside his father’s Hamptons estate, drowning his sorrows in scotch and self-pity.
Sienna knew she needed leverage. And she knew exactly where to find it.
It was a rainy Tuesday afternoon when my phone pinged with an unknown text message while I was nursing Chloe in the sunlit nursery of my newly upgraded Upper East Side townhouse—a townhouse Dominic had secretly purchased and furnished for us while we were still at the hospital.
The text contained a single photo and an address:
If you want to know what Grant is planning to do with the offshore accounts he hid from the divorce settlement, meet me at the Loeb Boathouse in Central Park in one hour. Come alone.
— Sienna.
I stared at the screen, my heart tightening. Grant hiding offshore assets meant he was preparing to wage a scorched-earth legal war to take away whatever he could, or worse, to try to contest Chloe’s birth certificate out of sheer spite.
I didn't tell Dominic. I knew if I told him, he would surround me with a dozen bodyguards and lock me inside a fortress. I needed to handle this myself.
An hour later, I stepped out of a cab into the misty, gray expanse of Central Park. The Boathouse was mostly deserted due to the drizzle. Sitting at a corner table under the dripping canvas awning was Sienna.
She looked a far cry from the immaculate, haughty executive assistant who used to hand me tea during my fertility appointments. Her makeup was smudged, her hair pulled back into a messy bun, and her designer trench coat looked damp and wrinkled.
I walked up slowly, my heels clicking against the wet pavement. “Sienna.”
She looked up, her eyes red-rimmed and venomous. She didn't stand up. She just stared at me with pure, unadulterated hatred.
“You destroyed my life,” Sienna hissed, her voice shaking. “You sat there quietly, playing the sweet, innocent victim, while you let Moretti tear down everything Grant and I built.”
“You built nothing, Sienna,” I said, pulling out a chair and sitting across from her without invitation. “You stole a married man, mocked my infertility behind my back, and helped him lie to the world. Don’t talk to me about victimhood.”
Sienna laughed—a harsh, jagged sound. “You think you won, Claire? You think because you have a billionaire wrapped around your finger and a cute little baby that it’s happily ever after?” She leaned forward, lowering her voice to a dangerous whisper. “Grant isn't just sitting in the Hamptons feeling sorry for himself. He hired private investigators. He knows everything about Dominic Moretti’s past—including the offshore tech startup in the Cayman Islands that Dominic sold before he made his first billion. Grant is planning to leak classified corporate espionage documents to the federal authorities to bring Moretti down.”
I froze. The air left my lungs.
Dominic’s past was spotless now, but his rise to power in the ruthless tech world a decade ago had been aggressive. If Grant had manufactured evidence of corporate espionage...
“Why are you telling me this?” I demanded, leaning across the table. “If Grant goes down, you go down with him as an accessory.”
Sienna’s smile turned feral. “Because I’m leaving the country tonight. And before I go, I want to watch both of you burn.”
May you like
Before I could process her words, heavy footsteps crunched on the gravel behind me.
Two men in dark suits stepped out from the shadows of the stone pillar, blocking the exit. And right behind them, holding an umbrella with a cold, mocking smirk on his face, stepped Grant Kingsley.
