His Knees, His Pleas, But Our Son's in Peace
His Knees 80

Chapter 80

This revelation was a weapon, and I had to use it wisely. I couldn't let Sienna get away with this. The plan began to form in my mind, each step more dangerous than the last. The thought of exposing her made my pulse race. She had underestimated me, and I would

make sure she faced the consequences of her actions. The game was on, and I was ready to play.

I felt a mix of anger and disbelief wash over me. How could Sienna manipulate Nathan like this? The thought of it made me furious. I glanced over at Carlos, who was sitting across the table. He hadn't bothered to look at the file but wore a mocking smile, as if he found the chaos amusing.

"Can you believe this?" I snapped, feeling the frustration boil over. "Stefan has been using Nathan and Sienna like chess pieces in a game."

"People do what they have to do to survive," Carlos replied, shrugging. His indifference only fueled my anger further

I knew I had to confront Nathan about everything I had discovered. I needed to understand why he was allowing Sienna to manipulate him. When I found him at a café, he looked surprised to see me. "Doris," he said, setting his coffee down. "What's going on?"

"We need to talk about Sienna," I said, getting straight to the point.

He stiffened. "I'm not marrying her. I've told you that.

"But Asher needs a complete home!" I argued, my voice rising with urgency. "He deserves stability, and right now, Sienna is using him to manipulate you into a marriage. Can't you see that?"

Nathan's frustration was clear. "You think I'm going to let her pull the strings? I

Put Our Son's in Peace

Chapter 80

won't be a pawn in her game."

"Then don't be! Marry her and create a stable environment for Asher," I insisted, desperate to make him understand. "I know you care about him."

Nathan shook his head, clearly torn. "I care about him, yes, but that doesn't mean I'll marry Sienna."

As we continued to argue, I could see the conflict in Nathan's eyes. "Cyrus looks so much like Oliver," he said quietly. "How can I not feel connected to him?"

"Cyrus has nothing to do with you," I replied firmly. "You have to focus on your own life, on Asher."

"Doris, how can I ignore the resemblance?" Nathan pressed, his voice softening. "It's impossible to separate myself from that."

We stood there, tension hanging in the air. I took a deep breath and said, "Then agree to the marriage, Nathan. It's the best thing you can do for Asher. Make Sienna the Luna of the Johnson Pack. And invite the media." "Invite the media?" he echoed in disbelief. "You want me to turn this into a

spectacle?"

"Yes," I affirmed, standing my ground. "This needs to look real. If Sienna is going to be part of your life, it has to be legitimate."

Finally, after a long silence, Nathan nodded slowly, the weight of his decision evident in his furrowed brow. "Fine. I'll marry Sienna. I'll make her the Luna. I'll invite the media to ensure everyone knows it's official".

I had convinced Nathan to go through with the wedding, believing it was the right thing to do. It seemed like the good choice; I thought I was being the good person in all of this.

But as I stood on the brink of my next decision, I felt a heaviness settle in my

Chapter 80

chest. My next move felt sinister, like I was becoming a villain in some dramatic film. I wasn't actively trying to be the bad guy, but I struggled with the internal

conflict that followed.

Every time I thought about the wedding, I felt a growing pressure in my stomach. It worried me, and I found myself questioning if I had made the right choice. What kind of person convinces someone to commit to a future they're unsure about? It wasn't about Nathan; it was about me feeling trapped.

I had convinced him to have this wedding to play the role of the "good person," but now I wanted something more destructive. The thought of turning this wedding into chaos thrilled me.

The more I thought about it, the more I longed to see the tables turned. But I had to face the truth: was I ready to cross a line I could never return from, or was I already in too deep?

I needed to talk to Carlos; he was my usual sounding board, the one I leaned on when I needed clarity. But as I reached for my phone, doubt crept in.

What if I had already caused him enough distress with my indecision? I didn't want to add to his burden, so I hesitated. In the end, I chose to switch off my phone, knowing that if I spoke to him, I might only complicate things further.

I stood there, staring at my phone as a wave of guilt washed over me. The thought of burdening Carlos with my turmoil felt unbearable, yet the silence between us was deafening.

I had always relied on him to help me make sense of my thoughts, but now, faced with the weight of my choices, I feared I would only add to his worries.

The swirling chaos in my mind clouded my judgment, leaving me caught between the desire to confide in him and the fear of pushing him away.