Chapter 3

The next morning, Scarlet was tending quietly to her wounds, her body aching from the previous night’s assault. Her limbs felt heavy, her heart even heavier. She was trying to stay afloat in a sea of humiliation when loud, thundering footsteps and shouting pierced the calm.

“The bloody idiot! Where the hell is she? I know you’re in there, you evil witch!”

Scarlet’s blood ran cold. That voice—Rachel Watson, her mother-in-law—came crashing through the hallway like a storm of fury. Scarlet tried to reach the door, to lock it, but it was too late. The door flew open with force.

Rachel stood tall in the doorway, her face a portrait of unfiltered rage. Her eyes burned holes into Scarlet.

“You wicked, disgusting girl! What has that poor child ever done to you?”

Scarlet, weak and battered, tried to explain, her voice strained. “I didn’t do anything to her. Maria attacked me first… I found her in Lucas’ bed—”

“Lies!” Rachel spat, advancing toward her like a predator. “Maria isn’t a lowlife like you. She would never raise a hand against anyone. You’re jealous, that’s what it is. Jealous because Lucas loves her. Not a shameless rat like you!”

Scarlet’s lips trembled, but she stayed silent. No explanation would ever be enough for this family. Their minds were made up. Her pain didn’t matter. Her truth was disposable.

Just then, the door burst open again. Lucas stormed in, his eyes blazing with fury.

Scarlet’s chest heaved with desperation. She clutched his hand, searching his face for a sliver of the man she once prayed would love her.

“Lucas, please… please believe me. I didn’t lay a finger on her. I swear—”

He jerked his arm away, shoving her with so much force she stumbled backward.

Scarlet’s heart shattered again. She had hoped—hoped—that maybe this time, he’d choose her. But how foolish she was to expect even a thread of fairness where Maria was concerned.

His voice came low and laced with disgust. “Enough, Scarlet. I’m tired of your drama. Your actions in this house will no longer be tolerated. You crossed the line. Maria is hurt. And I will not let her suffer.”

Rachel chimed in like a poisonous echo, “Exactly. Fix this. Right now.”

Scarlet’s head turned toward Lucas, her eyes wide in disbelief. “You… you want me to apologize? To her?”

Lucas didn’t even blink. “Take her to my room.”

Two bodyguards appeared as if summoned by magic. Scarlet tried to resist, but she was no match. Her voice trembled as they gripped her arms.

“You’ll regret this, Lucas,” she shouted, struggling against their iron grip. “I swear to you—you’ll regret this!”

But no one listened. They dragged her to Lucas’ room and threw her to her knees in front of a smug, smirking Maria who sat comfortably on the bed like a queen receiving tribute.

Rachel stepped forward and gave Scarlet a hard kick behind her knees.

“On your knees, you little disgrace!”

Scarlet clenched her jaw, tears burning the corners of her eyes. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from crying in front of them. They didn’t deserve her tears.

Then her gaze landed on Lucas.

And something snapped.

The man she had once loved. The man she had cooked for, bled for, pleaded for—he wasn’t standing up for her. He was standing with them.

Whatever was left of her love for him… died.

Suddenly, she surged to her feet.

“You want me to apologize?” she shouted, her voice ringing off the walls. “To your mistress? That’s what you want?!”

And just like that—she turned and ran.

“After her!” Lucas barked.

The bodyguards charged after her, but Scarlet reached her room just in time. She threw the door shut behind her, breath ragged.

Her hands rummaged frantically.

The video. She had been filming something the night before—right before Maria barged in. Her hands closed around her phone.

It was still recording.

The moment Maria stormed in… the insults, the threats… the fight. Everything.

The guards burst into her room.

“Don’t you dare touch me!” Scarlet growled, fire burning in her voice.

She fixed her robe, lifted her chin high, and marched back to Lucas’ room.

Her heart thudded as she stepped inside, phone gripped tightly in hand.

“You want an apology?” she hissed. “Fine. Watch this. Then tell me who deserves the apology.”

She tossed the phone to Lucas.

Maria and Rachel went stiff.

Lucas hit play. The room fell silent except for the damning audio: Maria's condescending voice. Her threats. Her confession of sleeping with Lucas. The assault.

Lucas’ eyes slowly rose from the screen to Maria, then to Scarlet.

Maria panicked. She yanked the bedsheet over herself. “Lucas! Don’t let her near me again, she might hurt me!”

Scarlet’s patience snapped.

“Hurt you? I thought you wanted an apology!” She strode over and ripped the bedsheet away.

Lucas grabbed her arm. “Enough, Scarlet. Let it go.”

She yanked free from him and turned on him with eyes blazing. “Let it go?! After you just watched proof of everything I’ve suffered? You still choose her? Still protect her? Not even a single word of apology from you—or your saint of a mother?!”

Lucas hesitated.

Scarlet didn’t.

With burning rage, she slapped Maria across the face, dragging her off the bed and throwing her onto the floor.

Thud!

Maria’s head smacked against the bedpost. She yelped in pain, clutching it.

Lucas rushed forward, furious. But this time, he turned to Maria. “You told me you were too weak to move. You wanted me to drag her out—and now you’re fighting back like this?!”

Maria's lip quivered. She had lost control of the game.

Scarlet stood there, chest rising and falling, victorious even in heartbreak.

Lucas clenched his jaw. “Scarlet, let this go already. It’s over.”

“You amaze me,” she said bitterly. “You finally know the truth and still protect your dirty little secret. Lucas, I am your wife!”

Lucas sighed. “I’ll compensate you. What do you want? A trip? Money? Name it.”

Scarlet laughed softly. A cold, empty laugh.

She looked at the man she had once hoped would love her—and saw nothing. Just a stranger with her husband’s face.

“I don’t need your money. I don’t need anything from you.”

She stepped forward, eyes fierce. “I’ll send the divorce papers. Sign them.”

Lucas froze. “What?”

“I’m leaving.”

She turned and walked away—each step a declaration of freedom. Lucas stared after her, too stunned to speak. He had expected her to cry, beg, plead—but not this.

At the staircase, Maria, Claire, and Lucas all stood frozen as Scarlet dragged her suitcase behind her.

“You’ll crawl back!” Claire barked. “You’ll beg us to take you back!”

Scarlet didn’t flinch.

Outside, the night air slapped her skin, cool and refreshing.

She took a deep breath.

Then a luxury car pulled up in front of her.

The door opened.

“Grandpa…” she whispered, her voice breaking as she collapsed into his arms.