ScarlettThe steel door of the warehouse rolled shut behind me, sealing out the rain, the cold, and Aaron Wylder’s unreadable stare.The second the lock clicked into place, my shoulders loosened.The weight of being Scarlett Vance slipped off like a wet coat. Here, I wasn’t Senator Marcus Vance’s daughter. I wasn’t tonight’s runaway fiancée. I wasn’t a political pawn.I was just Scarlett.The familiar smell of motor oil, stale beer, cigarette smoke and hot metal wrapped around me like an old blanket. Bass vibrated through the concrete floor while laughter echoed from the lounge. Someone argued over a game of pool. Someone else revved an engine just because they could.Home.Most people assumed this place belonged to Bear.Technically, it belonged to me.When my grandfather died, he had left me one thing my father couldn’t touch. A trust fund with no strings attached.Marcus had expected me to waste it on designer handbags, luxury vacations or perhaps a penthouse overlooking the harbo
Last Updated : 2026-08-28
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