Semua Bab Goodbye, Mr. Ex, I’ve Married Your Uncle : Bab 1 - Bab 10

“Say yes! Say yes!”The chant crawled through the crowd, loud and relentless, each voice a hammer striking the same lie I once clung to—willfully blind, hopelessly in love.Caden remained on one knee, his back unnaturally straight, posture strained under the weight of his image. The facade was cracking. The charming grin he rehearsed for this moment faltered at the corners. Sweat beaded at his temple. I could feel his desperation seeping into the air—anxious, crawling, suffocating.His ego screamed louder than the crowd.He leaned in closer. “Come on,” he whispered, each syllable coated in false tenderness. “Say yes already.”My heart hammered once against my ribs, sharp and sudden. I’d heard that voice before—on the night he ended my life. On the night the truth bled out of me along with everything else I had left.Caden raised his eyebrows at me, impatience flashing in his eyes that only I could see. “Hurry up,” he said through gritted teeth, like he was daring me to choose wrong. My

“You used me.”Leon’s voice was low, tightly controlled, but there was a dangerous edge beneath it. The words didn’t ask; they accused, declared, demanded acknowledgment. In the dim hallway tucked behind the ballroom, shielded from the buzz of celebration and the false laughter of socialites drunk on gossip, we stood like two opposing forces locked in a stillness too heavy to last.I didn’t deny it.There was no point pretending with a man like Leon.I met his gaze, the glacial blue of it pinned to mine with such intensity it felt like drowning beneath the surface of something bottomless. My back was pressed against the cool, polished marble, and yet my skin burned with the awareness of him—his nearness, his presence, the palpable weight of his scrutiny. I crossed my arms, forcing stillness into limbs that itched to tremble.“I used you,” I admitted, my voice calm, steady, almost careless—like the truth didn’t taste like acid on my tongue. “To get rid of Caden.”I let a breath pass bet

Scarlett’s POV.They said Leon Rosenthal was untouchable.That he was married to his ambition, faithful only to power. That he didn’t sleep with anyone—man or woman. Some whispered he was secretly gay. But none of them really knew him.And until tonight, neither did I.I thought messing with him would be harmless—just another act in a place where everyone’s pretending anyway. I’d leaned in close, pressed my thigh to his—make fun of him. I thought he’d ignore me. Maybe sneer. Maybe get flustered and shove me away. But I’d seen the heat in his eyes after drinking the drugged wine, the fire he didn’t seem to expect. I thought I could flirt with danger and come away unburned.I was so, so wrong.Because the moment I called him “Uncle,” with just enough heat to get under his skin, he looked at me like a man who’d just remembered how to feel—and what it meant to want.And then he took off his shirt.There was no hesitation or shame in the action.The crisp fabric fell from his shoulders, and

Scarlett’s POV.The sky outside the café was painted in low gold, clouds curling like steam above the glass skyline as if the universe itself was holding its breath. I should’ve known peace didn’t last.Olivia and I had just finished splitting a lemon tart, the kind dusted in powdered sugar, and we’d wandered into the boutique across the street—a glossy space filled with overpriced shoes, bored salesgirls, and fancy perfume.I was smiling. Actually smiling.And then I saw her.Dahlia.She swept in with the kind of practiced grace that only a narcissist or a trained ballerina could pull off—heels too high, skirt too short, hair cascading in perfect gold curls that bounced like her lies. Beside her was my stepmother, polished in designer gold, her expression tight with false concern and barely-concealed malice.“Well, well,” Dahlia purred, her voice sweetened with venom as she spotted me across the shop floor. “If it isn’t the runaway bride.”I didn’t respond.I had learned that the best

Scarlett’s POV.I cut straight through the crowd, heels biting against the marble with intent. My eyes locked on Leon at the head of the long ceremonial table, where the will sat, opened and ready, waiting for the stroke of a pen that would seal his fate.I couldn’t let it happen. Not again. Not this time.My fingers reached for the document, just barely grazing the edge of the paper—when Caden’s hand seized my wrist with a painful force.“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he growled, yanking my arm so hard I stumbled.He snatched the will from under my hand and held it up like it’s a prize. His voice dropped low, loud enough for just me to hear. “You don’t belong here. Who let you in?”Then, turning with fake politeness, he offered the will to Leon. “She’s had too much champagne. Just sign it. Let’s get this done.”Leon didn’t take the pen. His gaze stayed locked on mine.I shoved Caden aside, shattering the thin boundary of civility. He stumbled backward into a waiter, sloshi