I Stopped Loving Him When He Let Me Bleed Out novel Chapter 283

On the morning of the seminar, Sienna woke up earlier than usual.

She stood in front of her closet for a long time before finally settling on a pale blue tailored shirt dress. It cinched perfectly at the waist, and she pinned a small, inexpensive pearl brooch to the collar. It was simple, but it suited her beautifully.

The woman staring back at her in the mirror looked cool and composed, her posture impeccable, betraying absolutely zero emotion.

Silas's car was waiting downstairs. The silver-gray Rolls-Royce Ghost gleamed under the early morning sun, practically radiating quiet luxury.

Caspar stood by the rear passenger door, pulling it open for her.

Sienna slid inside. Silas was already waiting.

He wore a sharp charcoal-gray suit with a silver-blue tie that perfectly matched his cufflinks.

He looked like he was about to step onto the red carpet of a high-society gala.

His elegance never felt forced; it was woven directly into his DNA.

"Morning," Silas greeted, his gaze lingering on her pearl brooch for a fraction of a second before moving away.

"Good morning, Silas."

The car pulled into traffic, and a comfortable silence settled over the cabin.

Silas wasn't the type to fill quiet moments with pointless small talk. He just sat there, occasionally scrolling through documents on his tablet, keeping a casual eye on the road ahead.

Sienna leaned back against the plush leather seats, watching the city blur past the window as a deep sense of calm washed over her.

It was a tranquility she had never once experienced during her time with Finn.

When she was with Finn, a single word, a fleeting look, or even a delayed text message was enough to send her spiraling into a full day of overthinking.

She had loved him too fiercely, ripping her own heart out of her chest and placing it directly into his hands. When he held her close, she soared; when he pulled away, she shattered.

Back then, she genuinely believed that was what love was supposed to be—a suffocating wave of anxiety and desperate passion.

But now, Sienna was twenty-nine, standing on the edge of thirty.

She needed stability. She needed peace.

"Did you finish reading that literature review yesterday?" Silas suddenly asked.

"I did," Sienna said, turning to face him. "The piece on preventing reflux esophagitis after proximal gastrectomy that Dr. Rhodes recommended. The data is incredibly solid, but the sample size is severely lacking."

Silas nodded, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips, clearly pleased with her analysis.

"There's a young doctors' academic exchange segment at the seminar today. I had someone submit your abstract. They selected you."

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