Chapter 3: Leaving the Snake Pit

The Pierce mansion had always felt cold. Even with the heaters running and the sun streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the air inside was thin. It was a house built on hollow prestige and my father’s greed. I pulled up to the front gates in one of Alexander King’s black sedans. I wasn't here to make amends. I was here to take what was mine and burn the bridge behind me.

I walked through the heavy mahogany doors. The lobby was quiet, except for the clinking of china. In the center of the room, Victoria, my stepmother, was sitting on a velvet sofa. She was pouring tea with the practiced grace of someone who had spent decades pretending to be royalty. My father sat opposite her, his face buried in a newspaper. Penelope sat next to them. Her eyes were red and puffy, but the moment she saw me, her expression shifted. The fake sadness vanished, replaced by a look of sheer triumph.

"Oh, look who decided to crawl back," Victoria said. she didn't even look up from her teacup. "Scarlett, don't think for a second that you can just walk in here after the stunt you pulled yesterday. You humiliated this family in front of the entire city."

My father slammed his newspaper onto the coffee table. He stood up, his face turning a dark shade of red. "Scarlett! You are a disgrace! Arthur was a perfect match for our business interests. It’s natural for a man to have a change of heart, but you? To throw yourself at a man like Alexander King like a cheap opportunist? I should have disowned you years ago."

I didn't answer them. I didn't even look at them. I turned to a man standing near the entrance—a butler I hadn't seen before. He looked young, probably a new hire Victoria had brought in to replace the staff who were loyal to my late mother.

"You," I said, pointing to him. "What is your name?"

The young man blinked, startled. "It's... it's Marcus, Miss Pierce."

"Marcus. Go upstairs to my suite. Bring down the two silver suitcases by the wardrobe. Don't touch anything else," I ordered.

"Don't you dare move, Marcus!" Victoria shrieked. She stood up, her tea spilling onto the expensive rug. "You have no authority here, Scarlett. You left this house. You're nothing now."

I walked toward the coffee table. I pulled a thin manila envelope from my bag and tossed it onto the table. It landed right in the middle of Victoria’s tea set, knocking over a plate of lemon tarts.

"What is this?" my father hissed.

"Read it," I said. "It’s a notice to vacate. You have three days to get your things and leave."

My father laughed, a harsh, dry sound. "Leave? This is my house. I’ve lived here for twenty years."

"You’ve lived here for twenty years because my mother allowed it," I countered. My voice was low and steady. "This house was purchased under my mother’s name as part of her private estate before she married you. In her will, it was left to me. I simply never bothered to enforce it because I didn't want to deal with the smell of snakes."

Victoria grabbed the document, her hands shaking. "This can't be legal. We have rights!"

"The deed is in my hand, Victoria. And as of eight o'clock this morning, I have transferred the management of this property to the King Empire’s legal division," I said. I watched the blood drain from her face. "Alexander’s lawyers will be here tomorrow morning to begin the sealing process. Anything left inside after three days will be considered abandoned property and destroyed."

"You're lying," Penelope whispered, her voice finally breaking. "Alexander King wouldn't actually marry someone like you. It was a show. A joke."

I didn't say a word. I simply lifted my left hand.

The light from the chandelier hit the ring. It was a massive pink diamond, surrounded by smaller, flawless white stones. It wasn't just a ring; it was a statement of ownership. It was a stone that cost more than Arthur Sterling’s entire net worth.

The room went silent. Penelope stared at the ring, her mouth hanging open. She had spent her whole life trying to steal my leftovers, thinking Arthur was the ultimate prize. Now, she realized she had traded a gold mine for a pile of dirt.

"Enjoy your last few nights here," I said, turning toward the door as Marcus appeared with my suitcases. "And Penelope? Tell Arthur I’m still waiting for my ten million dollars. He has until midnight."

I paused at the doorway, looking back over my shoulder. "Alexander is a very patient man, but he hates it when people owe his wife money. You wouldn't want to find out what happens when he loses his temper."