BREAKFAST GAMES

SCARLETT 

Zayden’s eyes locked onto mine, his gaze sharp with suspicion.

"What?" he asked, his deep voice cutting through the thick air between us.

I tilted my head slightly, letting a smirk play on my lips. "Get ready, Father inlaw. We’re going out. There’s a pool party tonight, and you’re coming with us."

His jaw tightened. "We?"

I casually picked up my coffee cup, taking a slow sip before setting it back down. "Vincent and I. And some of our friends. We couldn't have our honeymoon so we want to have fun now. It’s going to be fun. You should learn to have fun, Zayden or do you prefer father-in-law?." I leaned forward slightly, lowering my voice.

And I saw the anger in his face.

 "We're gonna have fun, or is that something you’ve forgotten how to do?"

He exhaled sharply through his nose, gripping his fork a little too tightly. "I have more important things to do."

I shrugged. "Are you sure about it? You should be having fun. But Vincent will be disappointed."

Mentioning Vincent was always the right move. It hit exactly where I wanted it to. Zayden might have been cold and distant, but he had a weakness—his guilt. And I knew how to use it.

Vincent was still chatting about the party, completely oblivious to the tension thickening between me and his father. I smiled sweetly, reaching for Vincent’s plate. "Here, let me feed you. You’re always so busy talking that you forget to eat."

Zayden’s eyes darkened as I lifted a piece of toast to Vincent’s lips. Vincent laughed, chewing happily. "You’re the best, Scarlett."

"I try," I murmured, giving Zayden a quick glance to see his reaction.

His grip on the fork tightened. His shoulders tensed. Perfect.

I picked up my coffee again and leaned back, feeling the weight of Zayden’s glare. The morning sun streaming through the windows did nothing to warm the icy stare he was sending my way.

Time for the next move.

I tilted my cup just a little too much. The dark liquid tumbled over the edge, splashing against Zayden’s crisp white shirt.

"Oh no!" I gasped, standing quickly. "I’m so sorry, Zayden. Let me help you."

His lips pressed into a thin line, his muscles clenching beneath the wet fabric. He didn’t believe for a second that it was an accident.

"I’ll handle it," he said, his voice tight.

I shook my head, already grabbing a napkin. "No, no. It’s my fault. Let me make it right."

Without waiting for permission, I dabbed at his chest, pressing the fabric against his skin. I could feel the solid muscles beneath, the heat of his body even through the damp shirt. My fingers lingered a little too long, just enough to make him uncomfortable.

Zayden’s jaw flexed. His breathing was controlled, but I could tell I was getting to him. Good.

"Scarlett." His voice was low, warning.

I blinked up at him innocently. "Hmm?"

"Enough."

I held his stare for a moment longer, then sighed dramatically. "Fine. At least let me grab you a clean shirt. Come on, let’s go to your room."

Before he could refuse, I turned and walked ahead, knowing he would follow. He didn’t like a scene, not in front of Vincent.

The moment we stepped into his bedroom, he shut the door behind us with more force than necessary.

"What the hell are you doing?" he growled.

I turned to face him, tilting my head. "Helping you. You don’t want to walk around soaked, do you?"

I grabbed a towel from the dresser and stepped toward him, pressing it against his chest. Slowly, I dabbed at the wet fabric, feeling the tension in his body rise.

Zayden’s breath hitched slightly, his jaw locking in place. He didn’t move, but I could see the battle raging inside him. He hated me touching him. But he also didn’t want to step away.

"Stop," he ordered.

I didn’t. Instead, I moved closer, my fingers grazing his skin as I wiped away the moisture. "Relax, Zayden. It’s just a towel."

He grabbed my wrist, stopping me mid-motion. His grip was firm but not painful. "I don’t need your help."

I met his eyes, and for a split second, something passed between us. Something dangerous. Something we both wanted to ignore.

"Scarlett—"

"Oh! There you are!"

Vincent’s voice cut through the moment, shattering whatever was about to happen.

I pulled back instantly, my expression shifting into one of perfect innocence as I turned to face him.

Vincent walked in, smiling as usual. "Dad, she’s really something, isn’t she? Always taking care of everyone."

Zayden’s hands curled into fists at his sides.

Vincent walked over and placed a kiss on my forehead. "Thanks for helping him. I know he’s stubborn sometimes."

I smiled sweetly. "It’s no trouble at all. You know I just want to make sure your dad is comfortable."

Zayden’s fists clenched tighter. His jaw ticked.

Perfect.

I stepped away, smoothing my dress. "I should go prepare dinner now. We have a big night ahead."

Vincent grinned. "Great! I can’t wait for the party."

I glanced back at Zayden as I reached the doorway, my expression shifting just slightly. Just enough for him to catch it.

A slow, knowing smile curled on my lips.

I knew exactly what I was doing to him.

And I loved every second of it.

I would surely make him regret his actions. He'd regret not choosing me, this is only the beginning and he's getting pissed.

I just need to hear one word from him. And that is. I'm interested in you. And all will be fine.

Then my mind shifted to my Dad. He's in Jail for something I know he didn't do. But I have no power. I need to do something. I need to make Vincent help my father. My dad has to be out.

And I also need to dive into the details. Did my dad really embezzle money or someone framed him?