Chapter 11: 29 Days Left

Sienna's POV

The drive to the waterfront groundbreaking ceremony was quiet. Andrea sat beside me in the back of the car, one hand resting on my thigh, thumb absently stroking the skin just under the hem of my dress. Twenty-nine days left on our agreement, and the threats were already closing in.

He hadn’t mentioned last night again. The whiskey confessions. The way he’d looked at me like I was more than a contract. Part of me wondered if he even remembered everything he’d said.

“You’re tense,” I said softly, covering his hand with mine.

His jaw flexed. “Elena knows how to make a scene. Blackwood will give her the stage. We stay united in public. No matter what she says.”

I nodded. The platinum band on my finger felt heavier today. “We face it together.”

The site was already crowded when we arrived—press, board members, city officials, and workers in hard hats. Cameras flashed the moment we stepped out of the car. Andrea kept his hand at the small of my back, guiding me through the crowd with that commanding presence.

Marcus Hale approached first, looking uneasy. “The press is asking about the marriage. And there are rumors Elena Moretti will be here.”

Andrea’s expression didn’t change. “Let them ask.”

We took our places near the podium. I stood beside him, playing the supportive wife. But my stomach twisted when I spotted her.

Elena walked in flanked by two men, looking polished and venomous in a tailored black dress. Julian Blackwood was nowhere in sight, but his presence lingered like smoke. Cameras swung toward her immediately.

She smiled when she saw us. “Mr. Voss. Mrs. Voss. Congratulations on the whirlwind marriage. How convenient.”

The crowd murmured. Microphones pushed closer.

Andrea’s voice stayed calm and cold. “This is a celebration of the waterfront project, Elena. Not a place for old grudges.”

“Oh, but it’s all connected,” she said sweetly, loud enough for the press to hear. “You acquired Vance Architecture the same way you tried to acquire me years ago. With pressure and promises. Tell them, Andrea. Tell your new wife why you really wanted her father’s company so badly.”

Whispers spread. I felt the eyes on us.

I stepped forward before Andrea could answer, lifting my chin. “My husband saved my family’s legacy when no one else would. Our marriage is our business. This project is about moving forward, not dragging up the past.”

Elena’s eyes narrowed on me. “Careful, Sienna. He collects women the way he collects companies. When he’s done with you—”

“Enough.” Andrea’s voice cut through like steel. He pulled me gently but firmly against his side. “Security, escort Miss Moretti off the premises. She’s trespassing.”

Security moved in. Elena laughed as they guided her away, but the damage was done. Cameras kept flashing. Questions flew.

We powered through the rest of the short ceremony. Andrea gave a strong speech about vision and rebuilding. I stood by him, smiling when required, but my mind kept replaying Elena’s words.

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Back in the car afterward, the tension followed us.

Andrea loosened his tie, exhaling slowly. “She was fishing. Blackwood fed her enough to cause doubt.”

I studied his profile. “Was there truth in what she said? About why you targeted my father’s company?”

He looked at me then. For a second I saw the flicker of last night’s vulnerability. “There was history with Elena. She wanted more than I was willing to give. Your father’s firm was a legitimate acquisition. Nothing more.”

I wanted to believe him. But the unknown texts kept nagging at me.

We returned to the penthouse in silence. The moment the elevator doors closed, Andrea pulled me into his arms. Not demanding. Just holding.

“Twenty-nine days,” he murmured against my hair. “I keep thinking about what happens after.”

His phone buzzed. He ignored it at first, then glanced at the screen and stiffened.

“Blackwood just sent a new offer to the board behind my back. He’s trying to buy them out one by one.”

The threats were escalating. No time for softness now.

I touched his face. “Then we fight smarter. Together.”

He kissed me—harder this time, but still careful. His hands roamed my body with purpose, but he stopped before it went further, resting his forehead against mine.

“Not tonight,” he said quietly. “Not when everything feels like it’s about to explode.”

I nodded, even as my body ached for more of the man I’d glimpsed last night.

Later, while Andrea took a call in his study, my phone vibrated with another message.

‘Unknown: The original offer to Elena wasn’t just money. It was marriage. He wanted her as the perfect wife to clean up his image. Ask him why he settled for a one-year contract with you instead. — Someone who knows the real Andrea Voss.’

My heart pounded. I deleted the text, but the words burned.

Twenty-nine days left.

And the secrets between us were growing heavier by the hour.

As I watched Andrea through the glass doors of his study, jaw tight, shoulders rigid, I wondered how much longer our fake marriage could survive the truth.

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