He Buried Me But I Painted My Own Resurrection novel Chapter 5

It was the deepest sleep Sienna had had in eight years.

No nightmares, no jolting awake in the middle of the night, and no forcing herself out of bed at the crack of dawn to make breakfast for a man who was never satisfied.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a bright patch on the floor.

The countdown in her mind kept ticking, cold and precise, like the Sword of Damocles hanging over her head.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Urgent, heavy pounding rattled the entire door.

She opened her eyes, the crystal chandelier swaying slightly in her vision. She had slept on her injured back half the night, leaving the whole area numb, and the slightest movement sent sharp pains shooting through her nerves.

"Sienna! What time is it, and you're still sleeping? Mr. Gauthier is waiting for breakfast! Do you think you're some rich heiress?"

It was Susan, the housekeeper, who had never given Sienna a single shred of respect.

Sienna slowly sat up in bed, her old, oversized pajamas hanging loosely off her, making her look painfully thin.

She shuffled over in her slippers and pulled the door open.

Susan stood outside, hand raised to pound on the door again. Seeing Sienna, she put her hands on her hips and unleashed a torrent of scolding.

"You don't know how to get up unless someone calls you, huh? You really think you're here to live a life of luxury? Hurry down and cook! Mr. Gauthier has a nine o'clock meeting. If you delay him, can you bear the consequences?"

Sienna leaned against the doorframe, her face deathly pale. She looked at Susan without a word.

Susan felt unnerved by her gaze, raising her voice even louder. "What are you looking at? Hurry up! Ms. Lennox likes oatmeal in the morning, and Mr. Gauthier wants a sandwich. You..."

"If I'm doing the cooking, what are we paying you for?" Sienna cut her off, her voice slightly raspy but perfectly clear.

Susan froze, clearly not expecting the usually submissive wife to talk back.

"What kind of attitude is that? Have you lost your mind?"

Her face flushed red with anger, but Sienna just turned around, walked slowly back into her room, and shut the door right in her face.

Susan stood rooted to the spot, taking a long moment to process what just happened. Her chest heaved with fury as she stomped downstairs.

She was dressed and carrying an old canvas tote bag, looking ready to leave the house.

"Stop right there."

Grant's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable authority.

Sienna stopped and met his gaze.

He stood up. He was tall, perfectly built, and exuded an overwhelming dominance.

He approached her step by step, his eyes cutting into her like knives. "Who gave you the nerve to skip making breakfast?"

Sienna found it almost comical.

They had already signed the divorce papers, yet he still expected her to act as his free, devoted maid.

"I have a nine o'clock meeting, and I haven't even had a hot meal yet." Grant glared at her, his impatience practically boiling over. "If you make me late, can you take the blame?"