Zion's POV
I stare down at the proposal in my hand, the paper now damp with my previous drink. The alcohol hasn’t clouded my mind enough to miss the significance of what’s written in front of me. I can’t believe it. This proposal—this plan—is… impressive.
I’ve spent years writing her off. Siena. The girl who would never amount to anything, always angry and petty, the one whose every move seemed calculated to bring her closer to Raiden. But this? This couldn’t have come from her. The same woman who just a few days ago threw a drink in my face and walked out of my bar like nothing had happened? The woman I had ridiculed for years, saying she was nothing but a political pawn in a marriage of convenience?
I squint, holding the paper closer to my face as though my eyes might deceive
