“What do you mean by this?” I asked Ethan, my voice steady despite the anger building inside
- me.
Before Ethan could answer, Scarlett appeared from behind the moving truck. Her face was pale and drawn, her eyes wide with what looked like genuine fear.
She rushed toward us, immediately positioning herself slightly behind Ethan as if seeking protection.
“Emma, please don’t blame my brother,” she said, her voice trembling with carefully crafted vulnerability. “I know you’re angry with me, but this isn’t his fault.”
Her hands twisted together nervously as she continued her performance.
“Ever since what happened in the Maldives, when you asked the Royal Beta to throw me into the water, I’ve been having nightmares every single night.”
Tears welled up in her eyes, making them shine with manufactured distress.
“I wake up screaming, choking on imaginary seawater. I can’t sleep alone anymore. When my brother saw how terrified and broken I was, he felt so sorry for me that he offered to let me move
in here.”
She pressed closer to Ethan’s side, her entire body language screaming helpless victim.
Ethan’s expression immediately darkened as he looked at me with obvious disapproval. “Emma, even if you were angry last time, you shouldn’t have treated Scarlett like that,” he said, his voice carrying that familiar tone of moral superiority. “Look at what you’ve done to her. We have to compensate Scarlett for the trauma you caused.”
I stared at him in complete disbelief. The audacity was staggering.
“So what?” I asked, my voice dangerously calm. “How exactly do you want me to compensate
her?”
Ethan shifted uncomfortably, clearly sensing the trap in my question. But his guilt over Scarlett’s supposed suffering quickly overrode his caution.
He cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders, trying to project confidence.
“Let’s allow her to live in the master bedroom for a while,” he said, as if he were making a perfectly reasonable request. “Just until she stops having nightmares and feels safe again.”
The sheer nerve of his suggestion made my blood boil.
“You and I paid for this house together,” I said, each word sharp and deliberate. “I own half of it. No one can move into my house without my explicit consent.”
Seeing that I wasn’t backing down, Scarlett immediately shifted tactics. Her face crumpled with exaggerated fear as she shrank against Ethan’s chest.
“If Emma doesn’t agree, maybe I should just leave,” she whispered, her voice barely audible but perfectly pitched to carry. “I don’t want to cause problems between you two.”
Her performance was masterful–the perfect blend of martyrdom and manipulation.
Ethan’s arms tightened around her protectively, his face softening with genuine concern for her
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supposed distress.
“Don’t treat Scarlett like this all the time,” he said to me, his voice gentle but firm. “She’s my family, Emma. She’s been through enough.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. The sound was sharp and bitter.
“She’s your family, not mine,” I said clearly. “And let me remind you of something important–we are no longer mates.”
Ethan’s face changed instantly, his confident expression flickering with uncertainty and something that might have been panic.
His tone softened again, becoming pleading rather than demanding.
“Don’t be angry anymore,” he said, reaching toward me with one hand while keeping the other around Scarlett. “What do you want me to do to make this work? What will it take for you to let Scarlett move in?”
I studied his face, seeing the desperation he was trying to hide. He still thought this was all some elaborate game, that I was holding out for better terms.
“It’s simple,” I said with complete calm. “Transfer half of the money we spent buying this house to my account. Then you can let her live anywhere you like.”
Ethan’s face flushed red with sudden anger. His mask of patience finally slipped completely.
“Don’t you just want money?” he snapped, his voice rising with indignation. “Fine. I’ll give you your money.”
off me.
He pulled out his phone and speed–dialed his Beta without taking his eyes
“Transfer one million dollars to Emma Thompson’s account immediately,” he barked into the phone. “Yes, right now. I don’t care what time it is.”
He hung up and glared at me with a mixture of anger and smugness.
“There. Are you satisfied now?” he demanded, as if he had just solved all our problems with his generosity.
My phone chimed with a bank notification. I glanced at the screen and saw the transfer confirmation–one million dollars deposited to my account.
I looked at the numbers with complete satisfaction. This was perfect.
“Thank you,” I said with genuine pleasure, then turned to face Scarlett directly.
Her expression had shifted from fake vulnerability to barely concealed triumph. She thought she
had won.
“It’s okay now,” I said to her, my voice sweet as honey but sharp as a blade. “I hope you and Ethan will enjoy the bed in the master bedroom together.”
Scarlett’s eyes widened slightly at my direct acknowledgment of their relationship, but she recovered quickly.
‘I don’t know what you mean,” she said with false innocence. “I just need a safe place to recover from my trauma.”
I smiled at her obvious lie. “Of course. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
Then I looked back at Ethan, who was watching our exchange with growing confusion.
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“I came back today to get my things, I announced matter–of–factly. “Now that the house is officially yours, I’ll be moving out permanently”
