Begging for a Second Chance (Sienna Sloan and Jarred Sterling) novel Chapter 282

The entire back garden and the small study were complete blind spots for the security cameras.

The manor had been designed around Grandpa Sterling's preferences. He despised feeling surveilled in his private spaces, meaning there were zero cameras in his personal quarters, the study, or the garden.

That eccentric demand now meant it was completely impossible to pull any footage for proof.

Every single clue pointed in one specific direction, yet each thread inexplicably snapped right at the most crucial juncture.

It was as if someone had deliberately laid out a trail of puzzle pieces, only to maliciously snatch away the center piece.

Unable to find a single trace of evidence, Sienna had no choice but to turn back.

Just as she rounded a thick cluster of shrubs, a panicked figure abruptly came into view.

It was Greta, Celeste's personal maid.

She was clutching a sealed trash bag, her face pale with anxiety as she practically sprinted toward the manor's back gate.

It looked like she was desperate to dispose of whatever was in her hand.

Suddenly, Greta's phone began to ring.

The shrill sound made her jump out of her skin. She spun around, scanning her surroundings with wide, paranoid eyes.

Sienna reacted instantly, sliding behind the thick trunk of a sweetbriar tree, holding her breath until she was completely camouflaged in the shadows.

Oblivious to the eyes watching her, the maid crouched low and answered the phone. Her voice was trembling but intensely respectful.

"Ms. Carlyle."

Sienna couldn't hear what was being said on the other end of the line.

But she watched the maid's face drain of all color as the girl frantically checked her surroundings once more.

Greta rushed over to a dense patch of overgrown bushes, shoved the black trash bag deep inside, and carefully pulled the branches over it to hide the evidence.

After making sure she hadn't been spotted, she smoothed out her uniform, forced her expression into neutrality, and hurried back toward the main house.

Sienna didn't move a muscle, staying pinned against the tree until the maid was long gone and the garden was dead silent.

Only then did she step out from the shadows.

She walked briskly to the bushes, pushed the branches aside, and pulled out the black trash bag.

The moment Sienna untied the knot, a deeply familiar scent hit her.

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