Page 32 of Siren (The Enigma Affairs #1)

TWENTY-NINE

A couple of weeks later…

T he rooftop was lit like a dream—soft candlelight flickering against the city’s skin, music swelling into the quiet like it had somewhere to go and didn’t want to rush getting there.

I stood off to the side with Sienna’s fingers wrapped in mine, watching Amaya’s eyes well as the first notes of our track played.

It was stripped bare—keys, breath, and intention. A love note dressed in quiet.

We were always more than a moment…

More than time slipping through hands…

We were fate, we were written…

We were love before we knew where to land.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Amaya turn toward Amir. Her lips parted, her eyes already full.

Then he stepped forward, reached into his jacket—and dropped to one knee.

“I’ve loved you my whole life. Even when I was too young and dumb to admit it. Even when I was too scared to claim it. Even when I thought I didn’t deserve you.”

Her breath hitched. Mine did too.

“But I’m done wasting time. I’m done running from what I’ve always known. You—us—it was always supposed to be this way.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks, each one catching the candlelight.

“I want forever with you. I want mornings and nights, laughter and love, fights and making up. I want to be yours in every way that matters.”

He flipped open the box. The ring caught every shimmer in the sky—radiant-cut, platinum, timeless.

“Say yes, baby. Say yes to us. Say yes to forever.”

She whispered, her voice trembling through tears, “Yes. Yes, Amir. Forever. ”

And just like that, the rooftop exploded—cheers, claps, someone crying in the corner. Champagne corks. Laughter.

But I barely heard any of it.

Sienna’s fingers gripped mine tighter.

“That was ours,” she whispered, her gaze still fixed on the last lingering note.

“Yeah,” I said. “We gave them a love note.”

She turned her face toward me, light from the lanterns catching her cheekbone.

“And what about ours?”

I could’ve joked. Could’ve played it safe. But I didn’t want safe.

I wanted her.

I reached for her wrist, brushed the soft skin there. “We’re still writing it,” I murmured.

But even as I said the words, something inside me twisted.

She was leaving soon. The tour was set—eight weeks, coast to coast, then overseas. She’d told me one morning, just after rehearsal, when we were both sipping coffee and ignoring the clock. Said it so casually, like it wasn’t going to split the sky in half.

I never expected to care. When I got into music, all I wanted was to create something that could live beyond me. I never planned for love to sneak its way into the lyrics.

But she had.

Now she was in every beat, every bridge, every breath.

And I didn’t know how to sing the last note if it meant she wouldn’t be there to hear it.

We didn’t go straight back to the hotel.

Dre caught my eye the moment we reached the car, and I gave the nod. His voice low in the earpiece, he murmured something to the second guard, then took the wheel himself.

Sienna looked over. “Where we going? ”

“Somewhere I go when I need to feel the whole city and none of it at the same time,” I said.

She tilted her head, curious but trusting.

The city blurred by, tinted windows shielding us from the world. It was late. Quiet. But Pittsburgh still breathed—bridges lit like veins, the three rivers gleaming in the dark like they were waiting for something to be whispered across them.

Dre pulled up to an overlook that sat just high enough to feel separate from the world below. Not a tourist spot—something quieter. More private.

He stayed in the SUV, giving us space. We stepped out.

No paparazzi. No fans. Just Sienna in my hoodie again, the hem skimming her bare thighs, her eyes wide like she was trying to memorize this version of the night.

“I’m scared,” I admitted but not caring how it made me look. “Not of us. But of time. Of how fast everything moves. You’re leaving soon, and I keep thinking… what if I don’t know how to keep you when the world keeps trying to claim pieces?”

Her voice was barely a whisper. “You don’t have to keep me, Taraj. Just love me.”

I pulled her in. Right there, under the moon. My mouth claimed hers slow—like the answer I’d been searching for was hidden somewhere between her lips.

And later, when we finally made it back to my place, we didn’t speak much. She stayed wrapped around me. Her legs tangled with mine. My hands on her hips. Her cries in my ear.

And when her body trembled and she came on my dick with tears breaking down her cheeks, I felt everything.

Everything I couldn’t say. Everything I didn’t know how to fix.

The tour was real. Eight weeks. Back-to-back shows. Europe. U.S. stops. Sold-out cities and dreams she deserved.

But here—right now—was our truth.

I cradled her face, kissed the salt from her skin, and held her until her breathing slowed again. Neither of us said it out loud. But we both knew what it meant. She was slipping into the sky.

And I had no idea how to stop loving her without losing myself in the process.

We lay tangled in the dark, her breath on my chest, sweat cooling on our skin. I ran my fingers down her back, memorizing the curves of the woman who made music sound like something God created with me in mind.

And as the night held us close, I wondered how the hell I was supposed to keep her forever… when time kept knocking like it had other plans.

And in the midst of my fears, I said what we both needed to hear, “We’ve got time.”