เข้าสู่ระบบThree years ago, Roman Reed was the boy I would have died for. Then he broke my heart and disappeared, leaving me to piece my life back together while I climbed to Hollywood stardom. Now I am the nation's rising star, and my mother has finally found her happy ending with a tech billionaire. But when I walk into our new Malibu estate, the man standing there is not a stranger. It is Roman. My ex-lover. My new stepbrother. At Northcrest, he is the Blacklisted King. Cold, ruthless, and feared. He hates my fame, he hates my face, and he tells me to stay out of his sight. But under the same roof, the air between us changes. He watches me from the shadows. He judges my red-carpet gowns with a dark possessiveness that feels like a threat. He warns me, "Do not start something you cannot finish, Scarlett." The paparazzi wait for me to slip. My parents watch our every move. As the hate begins to melt back into the fire that once burned us, the biggest scandal is not my past. It is the man I am living with.
ดูเพิ่มเติมMy legs were shaking so badly I could barely find the steps as I walked down from the stand. The room felt like it was spinning, the faces of the reporters blurring into a wash of pale skin and flashing lenses. But then a hand caught my elbow—thick, warm, and solid. Roman didn't wait for the bailiff to clear the path. He stepped right into the well of the court, pulling my arm over his shoulder and guiding me through the heavy wooden gate before the press could even stand up.We didn't go to the public hallway. We pushed straight through the side exit Miller had left unlatched, into the concrete maintenance tunnel that ran behind the utility rooms. The moment the heavy steel door slammed shut behind us, cutting off the sudden roar of the courtroom crowd, my knees completely gave out.Roman caught me before I hit the floor, his back hitting the concrete wall as he slid down with me, pu
"Just breathe, Scar. Just remember to take a breath after every sentence."Roman was kneeling in front of me in the tiny, windowless side room, his hands firmly gripping my bare knees. The morning sun was trying to bleed through the frosted glass of the transom window, but it just looked like gray static. My chest was so tight it felt like someone had wrapped a steel band around my ribs, and every time I tried to swallow, my throat clicked. The court bailiff had already knocked once. The fifteen-minute recess was over. It was time for the real thing."I feel like if I open my mouth, the wrong voice is going to come out," I whispered, my fingers knotting into the rough wool of his jacket. "I keep hearing the scripts he wrote for me. The ones from the charity galas. 'Reed Global stands for integrity, family, and future.' I can still recite them by heart, Roman. What if my brain just defaults to the lie because it’s safer?""The lie isn't safer anymore," Roman said, his voice dropping in
The room was completely silent, waiting for me to falter, waiting for the "Angel" to break down and cry about how hard it was to be rich. I took a deep breath, feeling the air in my lungs, feeling the warmth of the diner we’d just left, the reality of the small cabin in the mountains where nobody cared what I wore."The dress didn't belong to me," I said, my voice sounding flat and steady in the large room. "Marcus bought the dress because he was presenting me as a billboard for his company. If I didn't wear the dress, he told the security team at the gate that my car wasn't allowed to leave the property. If I didn't use the credit cards he gave me at the specific stores he chose, he turned off the electricity in my mother's cottage in upstate New York. The money wasn't an allowance. It was a leash. Every dollar he spent on me was a receipt he kept to remind me exactly what it would cost if I ever tr
"They aren't calling it a family feud anymore, Roman. Look at the screen," I said, my thumb hovering over the glass of my phone as we sat in the dim, cramped corner of a diner three blocks from the courthouse.The television mounted above the grease-stained counter was flickering with the midday news feed. Usually, the anchors had that bright, gossipy bounce in their voices when they talked about the Reed family—the kind of tone people used when they were talking about a reality television show or a messy divorce among the wealthy. But today, the woman on the screen wasn't smiling. The background graphic behind her head didn't show a picture of me in a gala dress next to Marcus. It showed a giant, stark block diagram of the offshore network Roman had exposed yesterday, with a thick, red banner across the bottom that read: THE SYSTEM OF REED GLOBAL.
The garden was quiet after the reporters left, but the house felt loud with secrets. I walked back toward the kitchen, my feet dragging in the grass. Harris was standing by the basement door. He looked sweaty. His black suit was covered in dirt and burrs from the woods."Did you get him?" I asked.
Marcus didn't let go of my arm. He pulled me out of the office and down the hallway while the guards were still yelling outside. My gold dress was heavy, and a piece of the lace caught on a chair, making a loud rip sound. I didn't care. I just wanted to see if Roman was okay."Let me go!" I shouted
I didn't listen to Detective Miller. I didn't care about the party or the music. I ran back into the house, my gold heels clicking like hammers on the floor. I didn't go to the ballroom. I headed for the stairs that led to Marcus’s private study.I didn't stay in the hallway. I pushed the heavy oak
The gold dress felt like a heavy suit of armor. I stood in front of the full-length mirror while Chloe pinned a lace mask over my eyes. It was stiff and scratchy. Downstairs, I could hear the music starting. It was loud and fast, like a heartbeat."You look perfect, Scarlett," Chloe said. She was s






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