He Buried Me But I Painted My Own Resurrection novel Chapter 296

The black sedan parked smoothly in the mansion's underground garage.

Sienna stepped out in silence, returning to her gilded cage.

The moment she walked in, she saw him sitting on the living room sofa.

Cillian had changed out of the suit he wore in the storm. He was now wearing a soft, black silk robe, the collar left slightly open to reveal his defined collarbones.

His legs were crossed in a lazy posture, as if he had been waiting for a long time.

On the ebony coffee table in front of him sat a cup of black tea, the steam still curling upward, sharply contrasting with the room's cold aesthetics.

"Handled it?"

He didn't even look up, simply tracing the edge of the bone china cup with his long fingers.

The movement was slow, like he was petting a wild animal.

He asked it as if it were a trivial matter.

Sienna didn't answer.

She walked over and stopped right in front of the sofa across from him.

With her frosty eyes, she stared at him quietly.

"Sit." Cillian finally deigned to look away from his teacup.

He tipped his chin toward the seat opposite him, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Sienna sat down. The soft leather of the sofa offered a faint chill that seeped through her clothes.

She sat across from him, separated only by a coffee table, like two rivals bracing for a final negotiation.

Her spine was perfectly straight, her aura undiminished.

Cillian picked up the teacup but didn't drink, letting the warm steam curl around his fingers.

The crystal chandelier cast a cold light, highlighting the sharp angles of his profile.

"Do you remember what you promised me three years ago?"

He finally spoke.

His dark eyes locked onto her like the deepest abyss, brimming with a violently aggressive scrutiny.

Sienna's expression didn't change.

Her fingers subconsciously pressed into her knees, then relaxed.

"I remember."

Her voice was as calm as if she were reciting a fact that had nothing to do with her.

"I said, as long as you let me go, I would grant you one request."

"No."

Cillian cut her off.

He set the cup down. The china clinked lightly against the wood.

He leaned forward aggressively. His handsome, wickedly dangerous face instantly filled Sienna's vision as the distance between them vanished.

The scent of cedar mixed with a faint hint of blood washed over her.

Sienna instinctively leaned back, her shoulders hitting the sofa. She had nowhere left to hide.

"Your exact words were..."

He pronounced every syllable heavily, as if branding the words back into her memory.

"At my disposal."

As his words fell, Sienna's breath hitched for a split second.

She had indeed screamed those desperate words.

But she assumed it was just an empty promise made in the heat of a life-or-death crisis, a bargaining chip thrown out to survive.

She never expected this man to remember it so clearly.

And she certainly didn't expect him to actually come collect.

After a brief silence, she found her voice again and tried to solve the issue the way she knew best.

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