Begging for a Second Chance (Sienna Sloan and Jarred Sterling) novel Chapter 162

At six-thirty on a Friday evening, the street outside the hospital was bustling with traffic.

Sienna took off her white coat. The moment she stepped through the revolving glass doors, her attention was caught by the black Bentley parked beneath the sycamore trees.

The car window slowly rolled down. Jarred had one hand casually resting on the steering wheel, his side profile looking especially sharp in the twilight.

He wore a dark gray, lightweight sweater, the sleeves casually rolled up to his forearms, revealing lean, powerful wrists.

He leaned back against the seat with an effortless grace, looking like a model straight off a magazine cover.

Sienna's mind vividly replayed what had happened at the manor a few days ago.

She didn't even pause her stride, turning to blend into the passing crowd.

"Dr. Sloan," the man's voice drifted over, slow and deliberate, carrying an unquestionable sense of authority. "Today is Friday."

Sienna's footsteps halted.

Friday. The mandatory family gathering day decreed by Grandpa.

It was a rule established long before he fell into a coma—every Friday, the entire family had to return to Sterling Manor for the weekend, no matter where they were or how busy they might be.

When Grandpa was young, his word was absolute law in the business world. Now, even confined to a hospital bed, his authority remained unchallenged. No one dared defy him.

Sienna clenched her jaw and continued walking forward.

She didn't want to get into his car.

Not even for a single second.

The sound of a car door closing echoed behind her, followed by the steady, unhurried click of dress shoes against the damp pavement, catching up to her.

Before Sienna could speed up, a warm hand clamped down firmly on her arm.

"Honey." Jarred's voice fell from above her head, softer and lower than before.

Sienna kept walking.

Jarred's grip tightened slightly, his thumb unconsciously brushing against the inside of her wrist.

Sienna didn't want to be anywhere near him and started to shift closer to her door.

But the man beside her suddenly reached out, his long fingers intertwining with hers, locking their hands together.

"Jarred, what are you doing?"

Sienna reacted instantly, trying to pull her hand back, but it was completely useless.

She turned her head away, her cool, elegant features laced with deep impatience. "Grandpa isn't here, so you don't need to put on an act. Besides, everyone knows we're getting a divorce. Doing this... is incredibly weird!"

Jarred acted as if he hadn't heard a word. Instead, he leaned in closer. His warm breath brushed against the shell of her ear, carrying his signature crisp, cool scent.

He gently stroked her wrist with his fingertips, his tone carrying a hint of teasing flirtation.

It was a delicate balance—not quite crossing the line, yet laced with a fatal, magnetic tension.

"Dr. Sloan, the more convincing it looks, the more Grandpa will believe it. If you keep up this icy facade, the old man is going to see right through us, and wouldn't all this effort be for nothing?"