Half-Hearted: Mr. Sinclair, Stop the Act!-Chapter 174: Caught in the Act

Sienna Monroe glanced at the painting in his hand, momentarily lost in thought. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

This painting was conceived when she was sixteen, discussing Monet’s famous work "The Walk" with her mother, Leah Hughes.

However, after her mother’s death, Caleb Sinclair put it away, fearing that seeing it would provoke more grief.

When she moved the day before yesterday, she forgot to check the warehouse for it.

She pressed her lips together as she took the painting, examining it carefully.

The painting seemed to have been wiped clean. She turned her head to look at him, meeting those deep, affection-filled eyes of his.

She frowned slightly and said in a calm voice, "Thanks for the painting. You can go back now, don’t come again."

With that, she prepared to close the door.

"Sienna..."

Caleb Sinclair hurriedly blocked the door, looking pitiful and wounded, pleading, "I spent over an hour in line for these two desserts. Will you give them a try?"

Sienna’s expression remained cold.

She glanced at the desserts in his hand, pursing her lips, pretending to hesitate.

But without saying a word, she took the painting straight to the living room, leaving him at the door, yet she didn’t close it.

Seeing this, Caleb felt a surge of happiness, his eyes lighting up with joy.

The fact that she let him inside wasn’t too bad. A glint passed through his eyes.

As he entered, he instinctively looked around the house for any signs of another man’s presence.

He’s been to The Left Bank Pavilion twice before, and had some impression of the layout. As he approached the living room sofa, he noticed the azaleas on the low table by the window.

He paused for a moment and then slowly shifted his gaze, scanning the sofa again.

There didn’t seem to be anything unusual.

When Sienna looked back at him, he regained his usual gentle and refined demeanor as if nothing had happened.

"Have you had breakfast?"

Sienna didn’t answer, instead issuing a command to leave, "Put down the items, and you can leave."

Her words seemed to pierce his heart harshly.

Yet he didn’t lose heart, "These butterfly pastries leave your mouth dry. I’ll get you a glass of water or a drink. What do you want for lunch? I’ll buy ingredients and cook for you, okay?"

He acted as if nothing had happened, talking as he walked towards the kitchen.

Sienna’s eyes narrowed.

She didn’t know if his plan was to put something in the purchased desserts or the drink he was about to serve her.

Regardless of which, she wasn’t going to drink or eat anything.

She was gambling while seizing this opportunity.

Ignoring his words, she pretended she was putting away the painting, casually opened the study door, only to be caught off guard by Sebastian Prescott leaning against the wall.

With a coat draped over his arm, a black briefcase in one hand, and a coffee cup in the other.

She hesitated for a moment, then quickly regained her composure, giving him an apologetic smile.

To indicate that he should wait a bit longer.

Sebastian seemed to understand her meaning, said nothing, just nodded slightly.

Sienna set the painting against the wall, closed the door, took a deep breath, and walked towards the living room.

The living room and dining area were connected, and during the renovation, the kitchen was designed to be semi-open, with no door, allowing a full view of the spacious kitchen from the dining room.

The timing was just right.

Standing in the dining area, she immediately saw Caleb Sinclair standing by the edge of the kitchen counter, pouring something from a pack into a glass of juice.

His jawline was tense, and his movements with the powder were not smooth, his hands shaking.

The side of his face appeared anxious.

Her gaze fixed, her heart clutched tightly.

Knowing he was drugging and witnessing it were different experiences.

The latter hit like a flood, overwhelming her in an instant.

Helplessness, breathlessness, then suffocation, made her shiver uncontrollably, her once rosy cheeks turning pale.

That look of horror and shock might have been partly genuine, partly feigned.

She spoke, her voice trembling, "You... what are you doing?"

Her voice was not loud, but it reverberated through the spacious room, falling accurately upon Caleb’s ears.

He was startled, his body shivering, the transparent bag of white powder dropping sharply into the juice.

He looked at Sienna in disbelief, his heart pounding like a drum.

When he came into the kitchen, he saw Sienna putting up the painting.

He had sped up but didn’t expect her to return so quickly.

In panic, he fumbled and knocked over the glass of juice.

The yellow liquid quickly flowed from the counter to the floor, splattering on his suit pants.

He stepped forward two steps, trying to explain, "Sienna, it’s not what you saw..."

But Sienna didn’t give him the chance and walked straight over, pushing him aside, taking the spot he’d been standing.

She picked up the plastic transparent bag soaked in juice from the counter.

There was still some white powder left inside.

Her chest heaved, her eyes reddening instantly, she looked at him in disbelief and terror.

"What... what is this? Were you... drugging me?"

The words "drugging" seemed heavy and unspeakable. She spoke them softly.

Immediately, her throat choked, and it seemed nothing else could come out.

Caleb’s pupils contracted intensely, breathing rapidly, listening to her accusation shattered his heart.

He shook his head in denial, footsteps in disarray as he hurried to Sienna, grabbing her arm nervously and guiltily.

He tried to deceive her with heartfelt words, "It’s not... it’s not like that! Sienna, I didn’t! Believe me, it was... just a tonic for blood and energy.

I love you so much, how could I, how could I ever hurt you, Sienna..."

Sienna shook off his hand with disgust.

Emotionally cutting him off, "A tonic for blood and energy? What kind of tonic comes in a powder form? What kind of tonic do you have to sneakily give me without me knowing?!"

The tears that brimmed in her eyes seemed to accuse her of wasting over six years of youth in absurdity and foolishness.

She let out a bitter laugh, sorrowfully choking, "I... I just wanted a divorce, and you... hate me this much? To use such despicable means?!

You’re the one who cheated, you’re the one who wronged me, you’re the one who got Vivian Nash pregnant! The moment she came back, you scrambled to see her too! Caleb Sinclair, are you even human?"

Each word was like it was soaked in blood, infiltrating his bones and blood.

Causing every cell in his body to fiercely reject it.

By the end, she angrily hurled the transparent bag at his face.

Caleb didn’t care about the sticky feeling of the remaining juice on his face.

He once again grabbed her hand, almost begging, "It’s not like that. Sienna, I know, I was wrong in the past, I let you down, I’m sorry for you.

I also know you resent me, hate me, but it’s all okay, it’s all what I deserve. Now, all I want is to appease your anger, to apologize, to admit my faults.

How could I drug you to upset you again? Believe me, it really is just a tonic..."

Perhaps out of guilt, when he said "tonic" again, his voice softened significantly.

When he met her gaze, his speech halted naturally.