LOGINScarlett's POVArthur walked in and closed the door behind him.He didn't ask permission, didn't wait for me to invite him to sit. He walked to the chair in front of my desk and sat down, crossed his legs, and set a black folder on the table.I was still standing, my hand on the back of the chair, my heart racing.And that was when I felt it. The cologne. That scent of wood and spice that I knew by heart, that I felt on my skin when I woke up beside him, that stayed on the sheets, on my clothes, on me. I felt my stomach tighten, my hands tremble, but I kept my face steady.He looked up at me and waited. "You may sit down, Mrs. Moore," he said, his voice calm and deep, "this will take a while."I sat down slowly, without taking my eyes off him. "Coffee?""No," he answered, opening the folder, pulling out a stack of papers and setting them in front of me, "let's get straight to the point.""What's that?""A proposal," he said, pushing the papers toward me with two fingers, "to buy Helen
Scarlett's POVI woke up with the light hitting my face and my head pounding as if I'd been hit by a truck. My mouth was dry, my body was heavy, and when I looked around, I realized I was alone.The sofa. The blanket over my legs. The bouquet of roses on the table. The open suitcase in the corner.And no one.Marcus wasn't there.I sat up suddenly. My head spun. I had to hold onto the arm of the sofa to keep from falling.Shit. Shit, shit, shit.I looked at the floor, beside the sofa, where he had been sitting. The cushion was still there. The mark of his body. But he wasn't there.Where was he? How long had I slept? What had he seen?I ran my hand over my waist. Over the pocket of the robe. Where's the phone? I jumped up and my head spun again. I staggered to the nightstand. Nothing. I went to the suitcase. Opened it. Rummaged through it. The phone. The passport. The documents. All there. Nothing missing.But wait. Did he touch anything? Did he see anything?I closed my eyes and trie
Scarlett's POVHis hand was still on my neck.It wasn't squeezing. It wasn't hurting. But it was there. Present. Reminding me who was in charge in that moment. His fingers resting on my skin, his thumb on the vein where my pulse beat. My heart racing. My breath caught.His eyes were fixed on mine. Dark. Intense. Waiting.I thought fast.I couldn't push him away. A woman with nothing to hide wouldn't react with violence to a gesture like that. She would react with surprise. With confusion. With something else.I took a deep breath. The air entered my lungs. It hurt. But it kept me alive.I raised my hand. Slowly. I grabbed his tie. I pulled him toward me. He came. Without resisting. His eyes widened slightly. But he didn't pull back.We were inches apart. His breath on my face. Mine on his. His scent. The same damn scent."You're squeezing my neck, Marcus." My voice came out low. Almost a whisper. "Is that supposed to scare me?"He didn't answer. His hand on my neck trembled. His finge
Scarlett's POVThe bouquet lowered.Marcus.My heart raced. I felt the blood rise to my cheeks. But I kept my calm. The mask. Scarlett Moore. Not Emily Parker.He smiled. That smile I knew all too well. That smile that made women fall at his feet. But I wasn't just any woman."Good evening, Mr. Sterling." My voice came out polite. Firm. "To what do I owe the honor?"He tilted his head. His eyes roamed over me. Slowly. From my face. To my neck. To the robe. To my bare legs. Then back to my face."You worried me." His voice was low. Deep. "After that disaster at the studio and, then, that meeting at the company, I wanted to talk to you face to face. See if you're all right.""I'm fine." My voice came out firmer now. "As you can see. You didn't need to bother, Mr. Sterling."I stopped. Corrected myself. A slow smile, almost imperceptible, on my lips."Marcus."He didn't smile back. But his eyes changed. They grew darker. More fixed. As if that slip of mine had said more than a thousand w
Scarlett's POV "That means that little socialite just dug her own grave." I looked at the screen again. "And the best part? I didn't even have to try very hard. She did it all by herself. The cow." Helena laughed. "Scarlett, you're wicked. That's exactly what a niece of mine would be like." "I want it to get worse." I looked at her. "I want that woman to lose everything. The money. The fame. Everything. I want her to know what it's like to lose everything she loves. Like I lost." "And she will lose." Helena put her phone away. "The sponsors will keep falling. The most important magazines are canceling everything. Her career is finished. And Marcus? Marcus will be left with his image destroyed." "Good." I felt a smile form on my lips. A cold smile. Vengeful. "Very good." "What comes next?" "What do you think comes next, my daughter?" She raised an eyebrow. "Claire will try to clean up her image. She'll make statements. She'll blame the journalists. She'll blame you. She'll do wh
Scarlett's POV The car stopped in front of the hotel. Helena turned off the engine and turned to me. Her smile was wide, her eyes shining. There was a satisfaction in her I hadn't seen in a long time. "You were magnificent." Her voice was warm. "Seriously, it couldn't have gone better." I let out the breath I didn't even know I was holding. My back sank into the seat. "I don't know how I managed it." I looked at my hands. They were still trembling slightly. "When I walked into that room... when I saw all of them there... I swear I felt like I was going to fall apart." "But you didn't." Helena touched my arm. "You stayed firm. Cold. Exactly as we had planned." "It was hard." I confessed. "Seeing Vivienne's face. Seeing Peterson with that little smile of his, as if nothing were happening. Seeing Marcus..." I stopped. I swallowed hard. "And seeing Arthur." Helena was silent for a moment. Then she squeezed my arm. "They don't suspect a thing. Not for a second." "I don't know if
Emily's POV The open suitcase on the bed seemed like a reflection of the state of my mind. Crumpled clothes, shoes thrown in haphazardly, the camera case tossed in a corner.I shoved everything in without looking, without folding, without thinking. I just needed to leave that country. That place.
Emily’s POV "Simple. For one night, we're nobody. I don't know your name. You don't know mine. And tomorrow, if we run into each other on the street, we don't know each other.""You're crazy." I said."Maybe." He set his glass on the table. "But at least I'm an honest crazy person. Unlike the trai
Emily's POVHis hand remained firm on my waist, preventing me from sinking completely into the mud.The rain streamed down my face, my hair, the dress that now felt as heavy as lead on my body. But I couldn't look away from his eyes. Dark. Intense. As if he could read inside me just by staring.Ano
Emily's POV"What does this mean, Marcus?"My voice came out strange. Too calm. As if I were watching the scene from the outside, from some distant place where the pain couldn't reach.He turned around so fast he almost knocked the redhead off the table."Emily." His eyes widened. Only for a second







