All Chapters of Goodbye, Mr. Ex, I’ve Married Your Uncle : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Scarlett’s POV.The auction ended. People clapped politely, then stood up, gathered their things, and slipped back into the crowd, faces fixed into poised smiles.Except for Leon.He remained seated beside me—his attention unwavering, steadied onto me.I shifted in my seat, trying my best not to show any signs that I might be hiding something, or that I was uncomfortable. I had a distinct feeling that I was failing miserably.When he finally spoke, his tone was quiet and even. “Have you decided how to respond to what I asked you?”I stiffened.I was hoping when the crowd was finally dismissed, he’d get distracted and not press the question. But it seemed Leon was not about to let this go.My instincts kicked in fast, trying to come up with something creative that would explain everything. Or, I could tell him something vague. Push the topic aside. Keep my story intact. But what if that wasn’t enough, and he keeps pushing?There was only so much lying I could do in this situation.Stil

Scarlett’s POV.I was taken aback for a moment—at the way Leon had called out my name. I didn’t need to glance at him to know he was less-than-pleased about something.Despite it, my deliberate smile didn’t falter as I kept my attention zeroed in on Caden, not once breaking eye contact, as I let the pause stretch just long enough to watch him squirm.Then I leaned forward and declared under my breath, “You’re done.”Before he could react, I shoved him.He wasn’t expecting it. His body slammed into the edge of the drink table with a thud. The legs of the table screeched against the polished floor, and then the whole thing collapsed under the impact.Glass shattered everywhere—champagne flutes, wine goblets, crystal tumblers. A waterfall of noise filled the room as bottles tipped, liquid splashed, and Caden dropped like dead weight into the wreckage.He hit the floor with a grunt. The tablecloth tangled around his legs, and an empty bucket rolled across the marble beside him.The room f

Scarlett’s POV.I stood from the couch slowly, my hands tightening at my sides. “I know now. You don’t trust me at all.”Leon didn’t speak right away. He didn’t move. Just stood there still—magnetic, infuriatingly so—as agitation burned through me. His arms were crossed, his posture too composed, too distant. That expression he wore—the one that demanded respect with an unexplainable intensity—was now directed at me.I waited for something. An apology. A softened tone. A single step toward me.But he didn’t so much as move.And the silence between us made everything clearer.I took a breath, forcing myself to keep my voice steady as I ground out, “Since I’m not worth believing, there’s no point in staying.”His jaw shifted slightly. Still, he said nothing.This only made me angrier. I circled around the coffee table, each step feeling heavier than the last. “After the baby’s born, you can come have the DNA tested for yourself. I won’t stop you.”He finally spoke. “Scarlett.”He didn’t

Caden’s POV.The room still smelled like sex and sweat. The sheets were a mess beneath us, sticking to my back where her body had pressed against mine. The fan above creaked faintly, but the air remained heavy—thick with heat.I lit a cigarette.Dahila’s hand grazed my wrist in weak protest, but she didn’t push. She never did.The match flared and hissed out, the orange tip glowing in the dark as I inhaled, the smoke filling my lungs.Her arms slid around me again, slow and lazy, her chest pressed against my side. Her skin was soft. Warm. Familiar. But nothing about it settled me.“You’ve been quiet,” she whispered. “What’s wrong?”I didn’t answer right away. My eyes were fixed on the ceiling, following the cracks in the plaster. My thoughts were somewhere else entirely.Scarlett.She’d been taking over inside my head.There’d always been something… unfinished about her. I thought I had her figured out. Thought I’d broken her down to parts and rearranged her into something convenient.

Scarlett’s POV.I lay curled on Olivia’s small couch, the scratchy blanket pulled over my legs, my phone screen lighting up the shadows of the living room.My bank balance hadn’t changed.I had refreshed the app four times in the last ten minutes, as if the numbers would magically shift while I stared.But the truth didn’t change: I didn’t have enough to move out. Not for a place of my own. Not for rent and groceries. Definitely not enough for a child.I closed the app and dropped the phone onto my chest.It was quiet in the apartment. Too quiet.Olivia’s boyfriend had started spending more time here, which was fair—it was her home, not mine. I was just the temporary guest she didn’t have the heart to push out.But I couldn’t keep living like this. I had to find a way to stand on my own again. Not just for me, but for the child growing inside me.I had to find a job.My hand drifted to my stomach.It still didn’t feel real. There was no bump, no movement, no physical change. But I kne