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It was a choice.

Her body curled into mine afterward. Legs tangled. Her breath at my chest and her not ready to leave. So she stayed.

SEVENTEEN

Weeks had passed, and more pictures surfaced, and while this had been part of the plan, which I never liked, it still felt wrong. Especially since we were actually a thing, falling in deeper and deeper.

But…They were calling me his girl now.

NotSienna Ray.Not the woman with three platinum albums, two sold-out tours, and a voice they swore healed them. Not the artist who’d kept her name clean, her head down, and her soul in the music.

Just…his.

I didn’t blame Taraj. Not really. He wasn’t the one posting the photos, making the reels, stitching old interviews with new clips of us walking into a restaurant. But still—every frame told a story I hadn’t signed off on. And every story made me smaller.

One picture in particular hit different. I was mid-laugh, hand on his chest, while he looked down at me like I was his everything. The comments were relentless.

“Y’all see how he looking at her? That’s HIS woman.”

“That’s the kinda muse I need. She glowing for him.”

“She BEEN with industry dudes. At least Raj real.”

That last one sliced clean through me. I knew exactly who they meant. One man. One regret. One moment I couldn’t undo. And though they didn’t know the details, they always smelled blood.

Even now. Even after I’d spent years making damn sure I never let another man write my narrative.

I set my phone face-down on the hotel table and walked to the window, arms crossed tight over my chest. The Pittsburgh skyline blurred through the glass, steel and gray and quiet.

I had made love to that man two nights ago. I’d let him hold me like I was fragile and sacred. Let him kiss my thighs like they carried secrets he was honored to keep. I wanted that moment to stay untouched.

But the world was twisting it and maybe that’s what scaredme most—how easily I could lose myself inside something so beautiful. How much I wanted to.

My phone buzzed again. I let it ring twice before lifting it.

Jas: You okay?

Me: You see the post?

Jas: Yeah.

Jas: Also saw you looking like a damn trophy.

Me: That’s the problem.

Jas: …talk to me.

Me: They don’t care who I am, Jas. Just that I’m his. Like I’ve never had a name before.

Jas: You do have a name. You are the name. You are Sienna Raymond. Sienna Ray to them.

Jas: They can’t shrink you unless you let them.

Jas: Now take a breath and go do something with that ache.

I stared at her message for a long time. Then I tapped out one more.

Me: I’m calling Amir.