Breakfast Is a Blood Sport

Sienna pov

I didn’t sleep.

I lay in that big cold bed and stared at the ceiling and thought about the journal — who opened it, how long they had it, what they read. By 3am I’d convinced myself I was being paranoid. By 5am I’d convinced myself I wasn’t. By 6am I gave up and showered.

I went down to breakfast because I was hungry and because I refused to hide in my room like I’d done something wrong. This was my life now. I was going to live it without flinching.

That was the plan, anyway.

The kitchen was enormous. Stone floors, dark counters, a long table by the windows that caught the morning light. Harlan was at the head of it, reading something on his tablet, looking like a man who had never had a bad morning in his life. Mom sat beside him in a silk robe, both hands wrapped around a coffee mug, still glowing.

Rex was already eating. Eggs, toast, half a bowl of fruit, phone propped against the juice glass. He looked up when I walked in and pointed his fork at me.

“You look like you slept great,” he said.

“I look like what I am,” I said. “Coffee.”

A mug appeared at my elbow. I turned. One of the household staff — a woman named Petra who I’d met for thirty seconds the night before — set it down and moved on.

Black. No sugar.

The way I drink it. The way I hadn’t told anyone.

Cole came in. Book tucked under his arm. He sat at the far end of the table, opened to his page, and started reading without speaking to anyone. This, apparently, was normal. Nobody reacted.

And then Kade walked in.

Suit already on. Not a casual morning suit — a full, dark, fitted suit like he was walking into a board meeting at 7am, which maybe he was. He went to the coffee machine himself, didn’t wait for Petra. Poured it black, no sugar. Sat down directly across from me.

Didn’t look at me.

Picked up his phone and started reading something.

I looked at my coffee. Looked at his. Looked at the fact that someone in this house knew I took mine black before I’d ordered it.

I looked up. He was still on his phone.

“Did you order this?” I asked.

No response.

“Kade.”

He turned a page.

Rex leaned over. “Don’t take it personally. He’s like this before nine.”

Cole, without looking up from his book: “He’s like this always.”

Kade said, “Some of us have actual work today.” Not to me. Not to anyone specifically. Just said it, the way people make announcements to a room.

Harlan started talking — something about the estate manager, about a dinner next week, about plans Mom was going to love. Mom leaned into him, and the ease between them was real enough that it did something uncomfortable to my chest. She was happy. Actually happy.

I focused on my eggs.

✶

Kade stood to leave at seven forty-five.

He stopped at the doorway.

Didn’t turn around. Just said it to the room, or to the wall, or maybe to me — I couldn’t tell:

“Monday. My floor. Nine o’clock. Don’t be late.”

“Excuse me?” I said.

Nothing. He walked out.

I looked at my mother. “What was that?”

She smiled into her coffee. “Harlan mentioned you might want some work while you settle in, and Kade offered—”

“He offered?”

“It’s a wonderful opportunity, baby. Blackwood Industries is—”

“I didn’t agree to this.”

“You’ll love it.” She patted my hand like I was eight. “Give it a chance.”

Rex was watching me with something between amusement and sympathy. Cole had turned a page.

I pushed back from the table. “I need to talk to him.”

His office was on the ground floor. The door was open a few inches — not much, just enough.

I raised my hand to knock. Stopped.

His voice, low and precise, through the gap:

“I don’t care what it costs. I want everything. Her school records, her work history, the apartment she lived in before, the people she spent time with. Everything.” A pause. “She doesn’t find out. That’s not negotiable.” I stood there with my hand an inch from the door. He was having me investigated. Before the wedding. Maybe before I even arrived. And the coffee, the unpacked bags, the open journal — that wasn’t a mistake or a coincidence. He’d been studying me. And I had no idea for how long.