Chapter 3

Scarlett swallowed hard. "Yeah... I'm fine. It's just hot out today. I'm... not feeling comfortable."

It was impossible for anyone in the courtyard to ignore Darius. Tall, striking, and effortlessly intense, he pulled every eye in the place without even trying. Dressed in a sleek black suit, he defined quiet luxury. Flawless, sharp, and distant.

When Scarlett caught a full sight of his face, she froze. He was overwhelming, far too composed and sharp. For a brief second, their eyes locked, and her heart skipped a beat. She ducked her head, shrinking into the passenger seat. His gaze didn't linger anyway. He tossed his keys to the guard and walked straight through the gates.

Was Darius really the man from that night? What if she was wrong? What if other men had a rose tattoo on their arm? Her mind spun. She needed to know for sure.

Tobias gave up his stubborn act and fell into line with the rest of the guests. The main lot was packed, forcing him to park near the dumpster out back.

"Ready to go inside?" he asked, offering a hand.

Scarlett stepped back, keeping her distance. "I'll be fine on my own."

He hesitated, then let it slide. Making a scene wasn't worth the trouble.

"Whatever," he muttered.

**

The banquet dragged on without any sign of Darius. Scarlett felt a small weight lift off her chest. He was likely in his private quarters since rumor had it he hated socializing at family events.

If he were in the dining hall, she would be a mess.

She couldn't explain the panic. She wasn't even sure he was the guy, yet her chest was tight. Or maybe deep down, she knew the truth and refused to accept it.

When the conversation turned to business, Scarlett excused herself to use the restroom. She didn't go inside, though. She slipped into the gardens for fresh air, letting the family roast Tobias without getting caught in the middle.

Even in the garden, laughter and chatter drifted from the main hall. The estate bled wealth, from the marble paths to the fountains. No wonder Tobias fought so hard to stay in their good graces.

Scarlett wandered until she realized she had lost her way. The maze of stone paths had left her stranded in a quiet corner of the grounds.

A heated commotion near a secluded pond stopped her cold. Harsh, furious voices echoed through the trees.

Curious, she crept closer and gasped.

Two bodyguards were dragging a man by his collar, shoving his head into the water. They were drowning him.

The man thrashed, screaming in sheer terror, swearing he knew nothing. His voice cracked with panic. A dozen guards in dark uniforms stood in a circle around them.

Scarlett ducked behind a bush, hands over her mouth. Her heart slammed against her ribs.

The guards hauled the man up seconds before he went under for good, dumping him onto the stone like trash.

"M-Mr. Aldama, please!" the man wept, choking on water. "I'm telling the truth! I don't know the woman who came into your room! I never saw her face!"

A guard landed a heavy punch across the man's jaw. "Stop lying to Mr. Aldama! Tell us who she is before he kills you!"

"I don't know who she was! I swear!" the man sobbed.

A loud, sickening crack echoed off the stone, followed by a scream. A guard snapped one of his fingers back, ready to break the rest until Darius got his answer.

Scarlett went rigid, cold sweat running down her back.

It was Darius. He was hunting for answers, which meant he didn't know she was the woman from that night. He had been too drunk to remember her face.

Fear mixed with relief. She had to leave now. Darius could never find out it was her.

She turned to slip away, but two guards stepped into her path, blocking her exit.

"Sir, someone's here," one called out, grabbing her arm.

Scarlett froze, forcing a smile. "I... I was just passing by. I didn't see anything. Just looking for the restroom."

"Who is she?" Darius's icy voice cut through the dark.

"Tobias's wife, sir," the guard holding her said.

Silence fell over the courtyard. Every eye turned to her.

"Bring her over," Darius ordered.

Before she could react, the guards dragged her forward so fast she stumbled. Her throat tightened as she kept her head down, afraid to make eye contact.

"I'm sorry..." she stammered, her mind blanking.

Darius leaned back on a low outdoor chaise, wearing a black V-neck shirt and dark trousers. Shadows hid part of his face, but what the light caught looked sculpted.

His eyes locked onto her. She looked small and fragile, her lashes trembling in fear. Something about her helpless state stirred a quiet reaction deep inside him.

"Look at me," he said softly.

Scarlett gripped her dress and bit her lip before raising her gaze.

His face was an unreadable mask. "Why are you out here? Your husband isn't anywhere near this place."

"I got lost," she whispered. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I was looking for the restroom."

"Lost?" His tone turned cold. "Or did Tobias send you to spy? Did he tell you to track my movements?"

"No! He didn't send me. I'd never do that. I swear." Scarlett raised a hand, but his glare didn't soften.

With a subtle flick of his wrist, he signaled the guards to let her go.

Relief swept through her. She took a couple of shaky steps back, but her stomach flipped. A surge of nausea hit her out of nowhere, a sudden symptom of her pregnancy. Spotting a heavy stone trash basin near his chair, she bolted toward it.

Her foot caught on a paver. She lost her balance and collapsed straight into his lap, retching against his chest.

Scarlett's eyes went wide. The guards moved in to pull her off, but Darius raised a hand to stop them.

His face darkened. Scarlett dry-heaved a few times until the wave passed. Nothing came up.

"Tell me," Darius growled, his jaw tight. "Did your husband send you over here to throw yourself at me?"

He shoved her back onto the stone floor. She looked up at him, disoriented.

"I would never do that," she stammered. "I just felt sick. I'm sorry. You wouldn't blame me for an accident, right? We're family."

She regretted the word the second it left her mouth.

Darius narrowed his eyes, letting out a dry, humorless chuckle. "You're a sharp one, aren't you?"

The lights shifted, showing her pale face clearly.

"I'll be going," she whispered, scrambling to her feet. "Goodbye, Uncle Darius."

She took two steps before his hand shot out, wrapping tight around her wrist. His eyes locked onto hers, sharp and unblinking.

Her chest tightened.

"Does he recognize me?"