The Wrong Woman

Sienna remembered how Daniel had delicately wiped her body clean with a warm towel.

As she drifted toward sleep, she felt a warm chest against her back. An arm was wrapped around her, enveloping her in an embrace.

A soft breath brushed against her ear as Daniel murmured, "Sisi, we should go to the hospital. You seem to be injured."

Barely awake, Sienna offered no response, simply shaking her head in refusal.

A wave of concern washed over Daniel as he struggled to understand how Sienna ended up injured despite his efforts to be gentle and restrained.

Having taken a forensic pathology course at university, he had some understanding of assessing the severity of injuries based on bleeding.

It appeared that Sienna may have sustained a minor tear.

"Sisi..." Daniel whispered, his heart heavy with both tenderness and guilt. He pressed a kiss onto Sienna's shoulder, drawing her closer.

"I just want to rest," Sienna murmured, feeling a quiet strength within herself despite her emotional turmoil. Even though she was uncomfortable, she softly reassured, "I'll be fine."

The idea of going to the hospital because of a sex-related injury was not what she had in mind.

Indeed, Sienna's pride wouldn't allow her to face such embarrassment. She refused to admit that she needed medical help for such matters.

Having never been intimate with anyone else, she had no frame of reference for what was normal.

Daniel's strength was undeniably intimidating, leaving her

fell, Sienna

Daniel was nowhere

her legs feeling sore and

had subsided, a lingering

soaking in a hot bath,

bedding in her arms, she exited the bedroom and made her way

offer her assistance. "Madam,

not wanting anyone to see the bloodstains on the sheets. "Please, Madam, allow me. It's already 7:00 pm;

fine," Sienna refused, her tone

determination, Camille

the locked laundry room, Sienna began to hand wash

until they were completely gone before placing

from the laundry room to

her seat, Sienna

Camille ventured to the study and knocked on the

strolling over at a

approaching, her heart raced uncontrollably, cheeks flushing crimson. She bashfully

gaze was intense, his demeanor her. He pulled out a chair and sat gentle as he

picked up her utensils to serve herself some food. "I'm fine," she

eager to explain that even the most composed person would struggle to stop abruptly