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The rain had stopped by the time they reached the penthouse, but the storm inside Scarlett’s mind raged on.She sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the floor as Sebastian paced across the room, his hands in his hair.“Scarlett, talk to me,” he urged, his voice strained.But she couldn’t find the words. Everything felt like a lie—the childhood memories, the moments with her mother, the identity she had clung to all her life.You were never meant to be a Hayes.Damien’s words echoed relentlessly in her head.She pressed her palms against her ears, shaking her head as if she could force them out.“I don’t know who I am,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “If I’m not Scarlett Hayes… who am I, Sebastian? Who am I?”Sebastian knelt in front of her, cupping her tear-streaked face. “You are Scarlett. You are the woman who laughs at the rain and fights for what she loves. You are the woman who made me feel alive again.”She let out a strangled sob, collapsing into his arms as he he

Damien leaned back in his leather chair, the weight of Scarlett’s voice still echoing through his mind.“We need to talk.”It wasn’t a request it was a declaration. And that, more than anything, intrigued him.He stood, slowly buttoning his suit jacket as a soft knock echoed on the door. One of his guards poked his head in.“Sir, Miss Hayes is here.”Damien’s lips curled into a calm, collected smile. “Send her in.”The moment Scarlett stepped into the room, the air thickened with tension. Her presence was no longer the vulnerable girl Damien once remembered. She moved with purpose, fire flashing behind her emerald eyes. Her hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail, her posture rigid, unshaken. Sebastian was right behind her, his expression stone-cold, protective.Damien gestured to the seats in front of his desk. “To what do I owe this... intense visit?”Scarlett didn’t sit. Neither did Sebastian.“I know you were involved with my mother,” Scarlett said, her voice steady. “Emily remember

Scarlett stood in the dimly lit room, her eyes fixed on the map pinned to the board. Red circles marked Vincent’s known warehouses, and a single blue pin marked Dr. Harlow’s last known location a private clinic in the outskirts of the city.Damien adjusted his watch, his face expressionless but his eyes sharp. “Tonight, we bring him in. Quietly.”Sebastian leaned against the table, arms folded, his gaze flickering to Scarlett every few seconds as if reassuring himself she was truly here, truly alive.Lena tapped on her tablet. “The clinic is guarded, but not like Vincent’s main base. Harlow feels untouchable. We’ll use that.”Scarlett’s jaw tightened. “He watched my mother die and lied to me about it for years. I want him alive, Damien. I want to look him in the eye when he confesses.”Damien glanced at her, nodding once. “Alive. But don’t hesitate if things go wrong.”She met his gaze, her green eyes hard. “I won’t.”The black SUVs rolled to a silent stop. The night air was cold, win

Sebastian stood at the tall windows of the penthouse, the city lights glittering below, mocking the storm brewing inside him.Scarlett sat silently on the couch, arms wrapped around herself as she tried to process the weight of what Dr. Harlow had confessed. Every breath felt heavy, every memory of her mother’s laughter tinged with the realization that it was stolen because of greed and the Carlyle name was tied to it.“Sebastian.” Her voice broke the silence, soft but unyielding.He turned, his jaw tense, eyes red-rimmed. “Scarlett, I didn’t know. I need you to believe that.”“I do,” she whispered. “But you need to understand what this means.”His hands clenched at his sides. “It means that everything I thought I knew about my father was a lie.”She rose, walking toward him until she was close enough to feel the warmth of him. “And it means that taking Vincent down will tear apart what’s left of your family’s empire.”His eyes met hers, dark and determined. “Then let it burn.”A knoc

The darkness over Pier 47 was thick, the smell of salt, gasoline, and rain-soaked iron hanging heavy in the air. Shadows moved beneath the towering cranes, and the hum of engines idling in the distance was a quiet threat.Sebastian adjusted the earpiece in his ear, eyes scanning the docks from the rooftop vantage point, his black tactical gear blending into the night. Scarlett’s voice crackled softly through his comm:“You have four men near Container 12B. Another patrol heading east.”Her calm voice steadied him in the chaos, reminding him what he was fighting for.Below, Damien led the small infiltration team, his movements efficient, his eyes sharp as he signaled to his men. The plan was clear: secure the shipment, extract the evidence, and intercept Vincent’s men before they could move it or set it ablaze to destroy proof.In the surveillance van nearby, Scarlett sat with screens flickering before her, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she tapped into the port’s camera feeds