The Billionaire's Heir I Never Knew Was Mine

Sienna pushed herself up into a sitting position, wincing as her muscles complained again. She looked around her apartment cautiously, as if expecting to find signs of chaos.

But no.

Everything looked... normal.

The table was intact.

The standing lamp stood proudly.

Nothing appeared broken or out of place.

A wave of relief washed over her.

"Okay... good... nothing thrown from their places and nothing exploded," she murmured, nodding slowly as if she had just passed an important life test.

But then—

Her gaze dropped.

And froze.

There, lying on the rug near her feet like evidence at a crime scene, was the wine bottle.

It’s completely empty, not even a drop left.

Completely empty.

Sienna stared at it in silence for a few seconds, her expression slowly shifting from confusion... to disbelief... to mild horror.

"What the heck! I finished a whole bottle to the last drop?" she asked hoarsely, her voice barely audible.

Her hand lifted to her temple, gently massaging it as if that could somehow rewind time.

"Did I drink that much? Why can’t I remember anything?" she continued, her brows knitting together. "Why did I sleep here? I didn’t even shower... I didn’t even change..."

She paused.

Her eyes widened slightly.

"...Did I at least brush my teeth?" she whispered, suddenly very concerned about her own life choices.

A deep sigh escaped her as she attempted to stand, only to freeze midway when something caught her attention.

Her phone.

It sat quietly on the table, lifeless.

Sienna frowned, reaching for it and pressing the power button.

Nothing.

"Wait... my battery died?" she murmured, tilting her head slightly.

A slow, creeping sense of unease began to rise within her.

Her fingers tightened slightly around the phone.

"...Did I mad-scrolling last night? No? Did I call anyone last night?" she whispered to herself, her voice softer now, almost cautious.

And for some reason, a certain name began to surface in her mind.

Sienna’s expression slowly stiffened as fragments of the previous night began to crawl back into her mind like unwelcome guests.

She remembers laughing while chatting with someone.

A man’s voice.

Her eyes widened.

"Oh my God... don’t tell me... I called him?" she gasped, clutching her lifeless phone tightly in her hand.

Panic hit her all at once.

Without thinking, she rushed toward her bedroom, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process.

Her mind was no longer cooperating, replaying bits and pieces that refused to form a complete memory.

Countless questions are now dancing in her mind.

’Did I talk nonsense?’

’Did I embarrass myself?’

’Did I say something I shouldn’t have?’

She let out a deep sigh, feeling her face turn warm.

"No, no, no... absolutely not, Zach. It’s impossible. How could I call him? It might be Riley..." she muttered, shaking her head as if denial could fix everything.

She needed answers.

Immediately!

Sienna fumbled with the charger, plugging her phone in with slightly trembling hands. The screen lit up after a few seconds, but it wasn’t fast enough for her.

"Come on... come on..." she whispered impatiently, tapping her foot against the floor.

But reality refused to wait for her panic.

She still had work.

With a frustrated groan, she forced herself to step away from the phone and head toward the bathroom.

Every movement felt rushed, chaotic, as if her mind were split between responsibility and regret.

A few minutes later, she was back in her room, already halfway dressed: A white blouse. A simple dark brown knee-length skirt.

Her hair was barely styled, just enough to look presentable.

She didn’t even bother with makeup today. Just sunscreen and a quick swipe of lip gloss.

"That’s good enough... I think..." she mumbled, staring briefly at her reflection. "Hmm, you looked... alive. Barely. But still acceptable."

There was no time to aim for perfection when her dignity might already be ruined.

Once she was done, she grabbed her phone again and rushed out of the bedroom, her steps quick and uneven.

As she passed the kitchen, her eyes instinctively landed on the coffee maker. Her beloved latte. Her morning peace.

She stopped for exactly half a second.

"...I miss you," she whispered, before forcing herself to walk away.

This was not about a coffee morning. This was a crisis morning.

After slipping into her sneakers, she stepped out of her apartment, fully turning on her phone as she walked toward the elevator. Her heart started pounding faster again.

She needed to check the call log.

Her thumb hovered over the screen, hesitant.

’Maybe... maybe I didn’t call him,’ she thought, trying to comfort herself. ’Maybe I just dreamed it.’

Yes. That sounded nice. That sounded safe.

Just as she was about to open it, her cell phone vibrated, and a notification popped up.

A message came in.

Sienna’s steps slowed.

Then stopped completely right in front of the elevator. Her brows furrowed as she read the sender’s name.

"Zach...? Why did he text me?" she whispered, confusion mixing with sudden nervousness.

Her fingers moved quickly, opening the message.

"Good morning, Sienna... how are you feeling now? Are you feeling better? Do you need a ride to work this morning?"

Her heart skipped a beat. Then, seconds later, it started racing.

"Wait..." she breathed out softly, her eyes widening.

Sienna’s mind didn’t need long to connect the dots. She slowly lowered the message and opened her call log.

And then she froze when she saw his name there, as clear as daylight. The call was long enough to ruin her life.

"Oh my god..." she whispered, her face draining of color. "I called him..."

A deep, silent scream echoed inside her mind, ’What did I say? What did I do? Did I confess something ridiculous?’

Did she—

"Ding."

The elevator doors slid open in front of her, snapping her out of her spiraling thoughts.

But Sienna didn’t move.

She just stood there, staring at her phone, completely frozen between stepping forward... Or running away from reality entirely.

Before she could step into the elevator, her cell phone rang again.

This time, it’s not a text message but a call from him, "Zach.... Why did he call?"