A Surprising Twist of Fates (Sierra and Theo)

Chater 4 "Then forget it." Theo's voice was low, cutting through the air with an icy finality.

Adrian instantly closed his mouth. Without another word, he hurried to open the car door, his movements sharp and efficient.

By the time Benson staggered home, it was already night. He stumbled through the door, clearly drunk, and started yelling the moment he crossed the threshold.

"Where's Sierra? Didn't she come to apologize yet? Tell her to make me my special hangover remedy!"

It wasn't long before the housekeeper emerged from another part of the house.

"Young Mr. Gray, Ms. Shaw isn't here," she said politely.

Benson froze, a frown of disbelief settling on his face. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through the messages he'd sent Sierra earlier, instructing her to have his hangover remedy ready. No reply.

Well, well, well. So Sierra dared to ignore him.

His fury simmered beneath the surface, and with a sharp motion, he flung his phone onto the bed, his expression darkening.

The housekeeper, sensing the storm brewing in his mood, spoke cautiously. "Young Mr. Gray, would you like me to prepare the hangover remedy instead?"

"No! Get out!" Benson snapped, his voice sharp and cutting.

and slipped out of the

Sierra woke up early the next morning, the sharp tang of freshly sprayed disinfectant in the hospital room made her wrinkle

blinked a few times

over her, and a flicker of hope sparked in her chest. Her voice, hoarse from disuse, broke

"Benson?"

by the window froze at the sound of her voice. Slowly, he turned to face her, his expression

behind him, his features were

only amplified the natural intensity and sharpness he

his face, the faint hope in her eyes vanished in an instant.

Theo? Why is

It was Theo-Benson's uncle.

you disappointed to see me?" His voice was cool and edged with a teasing trace of

as he approached the bed. The shadow he cast felt both overwhelming

harbored a conflicted mix of respect and fear toward him. She forced herself to remain

I just mistook you for someone

second time you've mistaken me for

tone cut through the air, cold and laced with quiet

as her thoughts drifted back

years ago, at the Gray Manor. She had gone there looking for Benson and had

build was strikingly similar to Benson's, and he was even wearing the same style of white loungewear Benson often