He Buried Me But I Painted My Own Resurrection novel Chapter 300

Cillian Blackwood stared at her for a few seconds before finally retracting his gaze. "Let's go. We're heading back."

By the time they returned to the mansion, it was already afternoon.

Cillian had an overseas video conference to attend, temporarily granting Sienna Sawyer some free rein.

Returning to her studio, Sienna checked the time. It was six hours until ten o'clock tonight.

She had to be ready.

Around dusk, Cillian's subordinates delivered her dinner.

Sienna ate her meal as usual, acting as though absolutely nothing was amiss.

At eight o'clock, a knock sounded on the studio door.

"Drink with me," Cillian said, holding a bottle of red wine.

Sienna paused, but eventually followed him to the living room.

The two sat across from each other as Cillian poured her a glass of wine.

"Did you know, the first time I saw you, I thought you were incredibly special?" Cillian raised his glass. "In that casino, everyone else was consumed by fear and despair. But your eyes only held cold calculation."

Sienna didn't reply, simply taking a slow sip of her wine.

"I've seen too many women. Some are greedy for money, some for power, others for lust," Cillian continued. "But you're different. You're not greedy for any of that. You just want to survive."

"And so?" Sienna lifted her gaze to meet his.

"And so, I want you," Cillian's voice dropped to a low timbre. "Not your body, not your talent, but you."

Sienna set her glass down. "Cillian, do you really think you can possess someone using these methods?"

"Whether I can or not is something I'll only know once I try." Cillian stood up, walked over to her side, and leaned in to whisper by her ear. "And me? I have all the time in the world."

His breath brushed against her skin, and Sienna instinctively leaned back.

Cillian didn't push further. He simply straightened up, looking down at her with a predatory gaze. "Get some rest. Goodnight."

With that, he turned and left.

Sienna exhaled a breath of relief, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was already nine-thirty.

Thirty minutes left.

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