Reconsider it

Alessandro,

“Master,” Butler Carl’s voice rang out, calm yet unusually firm as he stepped into the room.

I paused mid-motion, adjusting the cufflinks on my sleeve, and turned to face him. My gaze narrowed instinctively. For the first time in over two decades, Carl avoided my eyes.

“What is it?” I asked, reaching for the cologne and spraying it across my shirt.

He hesitated, then finally looked up, regret flickering in his usually composed gaze.

“It’s about Ms. Scarlet’s punishment... I’m here to ask—no, to request—that you reconsider.”

My fingers froze. I set the bottle down. Carl never asked me or requested me for anything. He was fine with everything I had given him. But today, he was ready to ask for Scarlet?

“Reconsider?” I repeated slowly, each syllable clipped and cold.

" Yes. She has been trying her best to play the role of someone else! She doesn't deserve-"

“ And She was paid for her role, Carl. She agreed to live like someone else. That wasn’t a favor—it was a contract.”

“I understand,” he nodded, his voice still calm but edged with something I rarely heard from him. Emotion. “But she didn’t deserve this. She’s followed every rule, sacrificed things she loved, and worked tirelessly just to become a shadow of someone else.”

“And I compensated her for that shadow,” I said sharply, turning to face him fully. “She knew what she signed up for.”

“Still—”

“Still?” I cut in, my tone sharper now. “You’ve never questioned my decisions, Carl. Not in twenty years.”

“Because I never had to,” he replied, the firmness in his tone catching me off guard. “But this time, I believe she’s innocent.”

I blinked, slowly. My trusted butler, my most loyal aide, was defending the very woman who stood accused of insulting Evelyn—publicly. I couldn’t process it. Carl never stepped beyond his duties. He never uttered a word of personal concern when Evelyn left or when the marriage to Scarlet was arranged. But now, now of all times, he was choosing sides.

“You believe her? Even with the evidence? You saw the messages. Her phone wasn’t hacked. The proof was right there, Carl.”

“And that’s precisely what makes it suspicious,” he said. “Ms. Scarlet has been diligently paying off her debts, skipping meals to maintain Evelyn’s weight, following every rule you set. Why would she jeopardize all that with a stunt that gains her nothing? It doesn’t add up.”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I walked slowly to the window, watching the light spill in across the floor. His words struck something inside me—not guilt, no, but a sense of logic unraveling. Scarlet had her flaws, sure—she broke rules from time to time. But she always cleaned up her messes, always worked to make things right. She was stubborn and quiet, focused on freedom, and fiercely committed to repaying her father’s disgrace.

This accusation didn’t match her pattern.

“Then explain how those messages ended up on her phone?” I asked, my voice more restrained now. “Maybe she grew resentful. Evelyn never had to pretend to be anyone. Maybe Scarlet was tired of pretending.”

“She never envied Evelyn,” Carl said plainly. “And Evelyn wasn’t here to take her place. You weren’t going to give her that place back—were you?”

My silence gave him the answer. He didn’t flinch.

“She never once complained about pretending to be someone else, even though it was dehumanizing,” he continued. “If anything, she did it so well, it blurred the lines of identity. And yet, she stayed loyal. You owe her that acknowledgment.”

He was toeing the line now. But he didn’t seem to care.

“You’ve changed, Carl,” I said, watching him closely. “You never talked this much. And you certainly never questioned anything when Evelyn was involved.”

At that, something shifted in his expression. A flicker of something I hadn’t seen in years—disapproval, perhaps. Or worse, disappointment. But it passed quickly, buried beneath his usual restraint. Still, he met my gaze head-on, something he never did before.

“There’s a difference,” he said quietly, “between someone who heals... and someone who wounds.”

The room fell still.

It wasn’t about Scarlet anymore. Not just. It was about principle. About loyalty. About the image I projected to the people who served me—and those who watched from afar.

I said nothing. I didn’t need to. He had said what he came to say. But he wasn’t done.

“I have nothing more to say,” Carl bowed his head. “If I’ve crossed a line, please punish me.”

I stepped toward him, caught between disbelief and a quiet admiration I would never voice aloud.

“Carl, why are you—”

“Because I see where this is heading,” he interrupted, still bowing. “If Ms. Scarlet kneels to Evelyn today, she won’t argue. She won’t protest. She’ll bow, she’ll take it all silently like always, and when the pain becomes too much, she’ll walk away. Quietly. The marriage is already over. But as her husband and someone who is responsible, you should make sure her dignity doesn't face humiliation.”

He straightened again, this time meeting my eyes without hesitation.

“But Evelyn will see something else. She’ll see that you were willing to humiliate your wife for the sake of an ex-lover. And she’ll understand that your loyalty can be swayed. That you’ll forsake your own for someone who doesn’t belong to this Pack anymore. And Master... that will cost you far more than you think.”

I let out a slow breath.

Carl wasn’t wrong. Scarlet was under contract, yes—but she carried my name. She stood beside me in public, represented this household, this Pack. To humiliate her for Evelyn’s pleasure would not go unnoticed. Not by the other Packs. Not by the people who mattered.

Evelyn... she wasn’t mine. Not anymore. She had returned with another man’s mark on her. She didn’t belong here, not truly. And yet, somehow, her presence lingered—like a scent I hadn’t yet erased. But I couldn’t let the past govern my actions now.

My reputation wasn’t built on sentiment. It was built on consistency. Strength. Discipline.

“Please reconsider it,” Carl said one last time. “Let’s think that Ms. Scarlet sent those messages out of spite. Even if that’s true—humiliating her by making her kneel in front of Evelyn, who clearly isn’t your people anymore, will bring shame to our family. It’s not worth it.”

Silence.

I turned back to the window, letting his words settle around me like falling ash. I didn’t love Scarlet. I didn’t hate her. She was like an employee with her own duty—nothing more. But she was still mine. My people who represented my households.

And I don’t allow what’s mine to be degraded for the entertainment of others.

Without turning, I gave my answer.

“Have the car ready,” I said. “We’re heading to the party. I’ll speak to Scarlet privately.”

Carl’s bow was deeper this time. “Yes, Master.”