LOGINThe sky was pale and quiet when Scarlett stepped out of the car, the morning air cool against her skin. The city hadn’t fully awakened yet -traffic was thin, the noise muted, the world still suspended between sleep and motion. It was the perfect hour for something meant to remain unseen.She turned to the back seat.Theodore sat bundled in a tiny navy coat, kicking his legs impatiently, his eyes bright with excitement. He had asked three times already if the fish would be “big-big” or just “big.”Scarlett smiled and helped him out carefully, smoothing down his curls with gentle fingers. Her heart beat faster than it should. This wasn’t a business meeting. This wasn’t revenge. This wasn’t ‘strategy’.This was something far more dangerous.This was hope.Grant stood near the aquarium entrance, hands tucked into his coat pockets, his posture relaxed yet restless. When he saw them, something in his expression shifted-tension dissolving, guarded composure melting into something softer.Som
The ballroom glittered under crystal chandeliers, the air thick with perfume, power, and ambition. Shadows danced along the marble floors as masked figures wove through the crowd. Scarlett adjusted the delicate black mask over her eyes, her lips curling slightly as she surveyed the room. The orange wig from a month ago had been discarded; tonight, she was unrecognizable to anyone who knew her - and that was exactly how she wanted it.She guessed Grant would be here even if it had only been a week since he was discharged from the hospital , she hoped she guessed right.Her gown clung to her curves, dark as the night, flowing softly with every step. Each movement was deliberate, controlled, poised. But beneath the mask, her pulse hammered. Her heart had betrayed her the moment she left the car. Grant was here, she could feel his presence even without seeing him yet. Somewhere- in this glittering crowd. Tonight , secrecy would be their only ally.She’d rather be at home in bed with her s
Scarlett learned the truth the way the world always delivered devastation now-loud, fast, and without mercy.Her phone buzzed relentlessly on the coffee table. Headlines stacked one after another, each more brutal than the last.She picked it up.ASHBOURNE HEIR HOSPITALIZED AFTER PARKING LOT ASSAULTCASSIAN BLACKWELL NAMED PERSON OF INTERESTPOWER, VIOLENCE, AND A SUPPOSED WOMAN AT THE CENTERHer breath left her in a sharp rush.“No,” she whispered."No, no, no , no”Her fingers trembled as she scrolled. Grainy photos. Flashing lights. Grant on a stretcher. Blood. Cassian being pulled back by security, his face hard, unreadable.Her stomach turned violently and her head banged from the hangover.She didn’t remember standing, only that the room spun as she did. This-this was not part of anything she had planned. This wasn’t strategy. This wasn’t control.The knock on her door came seconds later.Cassian didn’t wait for permission before he pushed the door ajar.He looked exactly like a
Cassian returned to an empty house.He loosened his tie as he stepped inside, shut the door behind him, and stood there for a moment longer than necessary, as though listening for something he already knew wouldn’t come.He hadn’t stayed long at Scarlett’s.He couldn’t believe she looked like that.The smell of alcohol still lingered in his mind, sharper than it had any right to be. Scarlett Monroe had always felt everything and still moved forward. That was what had set her apart.Now, she had felt-and stalled.Cassian crossed the living room and poured himself a drink, then stopped, studying the amber liquid before setting the glass down untouched. He leaned his hip against the counter, arms folding across his chest as his thoughts returned, uninvited, to the sight of her curled slightly inward on the sofa. Perfect posture abandoned. Control worn thin.It unsettled him more than he cared to admit.Not because he thought she was breaking but because he felt she was hesitating.Wars w
Grant noticed her absence before anyone mentioned it.Scarlett’s office door remained shut well past 8am. No movement. No assistant hovering nervously outside. No clipped heels echoing down the corridor the way they had every morning since she’d taken over her son’s seat-since she’d planted herself at the heart of the Ashbourne Empire.By ten, it was undeniable.“She won’t be coming in today,” his assistant said casually, as though the words carried no weight at all.Grant looked up sharply. “What?”The assistant hesitated. “Ms. Monroe sent word early this morning.”No explanation. No reason.Grant leaned back in his chair slowly, his chest tightening in a way he hadn’t felt since the night of her birthday. Since the bathroom. Since her voice had turned sharp enough to draw blood.For the first time, her absence scared him more than her anger ever had.She never missed work. Not even when she was sick. Not even when she was furious. Work had become her armor-her way of proving she was
“Not working today?” Roxy asked as she walked into Scarlett’s large living room.The scent hit her first.Alcohol-sharp and unmistakable.Scarlett sat curled at the far end of the couch, hair loose, makeup faintly smudged, both knees pulled to her chest. Her laptop was shut, her phone abandoned beside her. Outside, rain streaked down the glass walls in relentless lines.“I am,” Scarlett said, her voice calm-but just a little too slow. “Just not..productively.”Roxy didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes lingered on Scarlett, taking in the unfocused stillness, the glassiness beneath her lashes.Then her gaze drifted to the corner of the sofa.An empty bottle lay on its side, the label peeled halfway off, its mouth still damp.Roxy’s jaw tightened.“You’ve been drinking,” she said flatly.Scarlett didn’t deny it. She leaned her head back against the cushion, staring at the ceiling. “Yes Roxy and I have the worst headache so please don’t start.”“It’s eight in the morning,” Roxy replied flatl







