Storms of the Heart novel Chapter 16

A sharp slap stung Julian's cheek, hot and searing.

The sudden strike jolted his head sideways, sobering him in an instant.

He lifted his gaze in disbelief and saw Sienna standing there, her face as pale as paper, streaked with tears, and filled with utter despair and shock.

"Julian!" Her voice cut sharply through the night, trembling with sobs, utterly broken. "Look at me! Look carefully at who I am! I'm not Trina! I'm Sienna! I'm the Sienna, the woman you've been longing for all along!"

The last fragile illusion Julian had clung to shattered completely.

He stared at Sienna, who was trembling and crying uncontrollably, as the haze of bliss and delirious joy in his eyes ebbed like a receding tide, leaving only shame, pain, and a bone-deep exhaustion.

Sienna saw her reflection in his eyes, clear and unmistakable, yet she could no longer find even a trace of the tenderness or affection he once held for her.

She finally understood that no matter how hard she tried—no matter how perfectly she imitated Trina—she could never replace her.

Trina had already pierced his heart like a thorn, taking Sienna's place and embedding herself even deeper than Sienna ever could.

"Julian... I hate you! I hate both of you!" She screamed hysterically, shoved him away, and ran into the endless night.

Julian didn't go after her.

He just stood frozen in place, the clear marks of fingers still visible on his face.

The faint, almost imperceptible rose fragrance he had mistaken for Trina's perfume still hung in the air.

He lifted a hand and wiped his face hard, then staggered to the couch and collapsed onto it, burying his face in the cold leather. A low, muffled groan, full of pain and despair, escaped him like that of a dying animal.

He couldn't keep living like this.

He had to find her.

He couldn't live without her.

Once the thought took hold, it grew wild and uncontrollable.

Julian pulled every string he could, sparing no effort to uncover Trina's exact whereabouts and what she was doing abroad.

Several days later, the report arrived.

Trina had used the savings Kaia had left her to enroll in a renowned university of the arts.

She seemed to have adapted quickly to her new environment, excelling in her classes and showing evident talent in art.

The photos that came back showed her in a simple T-shirt and jeans, standing in front of an easel, sunlight falling over her. Her smile was still bright, though it now carried a quiet sense of strength and independence.

At the end of the report, it was noted cautiously that she had several admirers—gifted classmates and gallery owners alike who appreciated her work.

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