Scarlett Caraval Novels & Stories

Scarlett let out a low hum of amusement, sliding her hands into the pockets of her custom Valentino coat, before finally turning to Genevieve. "That was certainly fun and unexpected." Genevieve smirked. "I hate people who pretend to be something they’re not." Scarlett lifted a brow. "And what am I?" Genevieve looked at her for a long moment. Then, she smiled. "Something dangerous." Scarlett’s lips curled. "I feel honoured." Genevieve chuckled and stepped closer. "Since you're already here, how about a drink?" she offered, voice smooth. "A little celebration for the new queen of Élan Luxe? I’m really glad you took it off my shoulders at the right time."

A civilized evening of wine, music, and polite conversation beneath silver chandeliers while the pack quietly measured which woman looked more suitable beside Maddox Stormhaven. Scarlett arrived early. She wore pale silver again, though this time the gown was softer, more delicate, shaped to make her look less like a candidate and more like a blessing already accepted. Her hair was pinned beneath moon-white combs, her throat adorned with old Holloway pearls, and her hands folded with perfect grace at her waist. Beside her stood Lady Maerwynn Holloway. Rhea was not close enough to hear everything, but she saw enough.

POV: Scarlett Wedding planning was chaos. The beautiful, irreducible, completely ungovernable kind, the kind that filled rooms with noise and contradictory opinions and too many swatches of fabric for anyone to make a rational decision about. Scarlett had expected to find it stressful. She found, instead, that it was the funniest thing that had happened to her in years. "Absolutely not." Camille had her arms folded with the posture of someone who has made a decision and will not be moved from it by argument or sentiment or the passage of time.

The Rosetti and Ferrari families were sworn enemies—years ago, the Ferraris had used dirty tactics to drive Rosetti's parents to their deaths, forcing the family to flee overseas to rebuild. Rosetti took me in despite our families' blood feud. He needed a wife to inherit his parents' estate and fight off his greedy uncles who were circling like vultures. But his scar and cold demeanor kept scaring off potential brides. I needed powerful backing against Stephen and the rest of the Ferrari family, who could toss me aside whenever it suited them. Turns out my paranoia was justified. Two scarred outcasts—that's how we ended up together. After my scars were fixed, I started accepting invitations

He smiled faintly as the window slowly rose. Harper watched the sleek car disappear, dumbfounded. “Harper, you heartless girl! You promised to spend Valentine with me, putting romance over friends! Hurry up and come upstairs!” Up on the balcony, Carissa was pouting, arms crossed, clearly not letting her off easily. ***

"Watch your mouth." "Oh, so you're still protecting her even now?" Scarlett's voice rose slightly before she caught herself. "Even though she's moved on with another man? Even though she doesn't want you anymore?" Something flickered across Kieran's face - pain so raw that even Scarlett seemed startled by it. But instead of backing down, she pressed her advantage. "You know what? Fine. If that's how you want to play this game." She grabbed two glasses of elderberry wine from a passing server's tray. The liquid was a deep purple color, rich and potent.

“You can have a lot of fun taming her. We'll start at fifty thousand for her price.” I casually looked at the slave in question, studying her. My mind jolted as I caught sight of her face. Her dark hair, her soft features. Her beautiful but strained body, the pain and exhaustion on her face. Spice? Her name was not Spice. It was Marlowe. Marlowe Sage Kunetsov. I could never forget. What the fuck was she doing here? I inhaled slowly to call my racing heart. I was not supposed to be reacting this way. She was not supposed to be drawing this kind of reaction from me. At least, not anymore.

​"Matteo will begin the preparations. Alessia will manage the guests. You will manage the execution of the visual narrative. We will host the celebration one week from today. The world will not just hear the news; it will witness the unassailable truth of the Valenti succession." ​He paused, then added a final, chilling command. "And Amara, since the entire world will be focused on your undeniable reality, you will need a symbol to mark the final, successful conclusion of the contract." ​He walked to the large, built-in vault behind a rotating bookshelf. He punched in a complex code, and the vault door swung open, revealing rows of dazzling, meticulously organized jewels. He reached inside a

“I think you’ve earned a reward.” He signals to someone in the crowd, and a woman steps forward. She’s statuesque, with curves that make my mouth water. “This is Mistress Scarlett,” Callum introduces. “She’s going to help me make you feel good. Is that okay?” I nod eagerly, beyond words as Mistress Scarlett’s hands join Callum’s on my body. They work in tandem, four hands caressing and teasing, bringing me to the edge over and over again. The room fades away until there’s nothing but sensation, pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak.