He set down his cup with a sigh and looked at me like I was a particularly spoiled soufflé that refused to rise. “Zacharias’s family wealth makes Winston look like a pauper. I know what this is about. You don’t want him. You want what he owns.”
“I want everything she has!” I exploded. “Her name in headlines. Her smug little smile. Her stupid calm voice like she’s always five steps ahead. I hate her. I want to be the one married to Zacharias, not… her.”
“And what about Winston?” he said coolly. “The man who bought you that auction–winning painting and jewelries. The man who let you win that race against Scarlett just to soothe your ego. The man who dragged you out when that panther nearly mauled you. That Winston.”
“I didn’t ask him to save me!” I shouted. “I didn’t ask for any of it. I only said yes to him because I thought Zacharias was a corpse! I didn’t think he was ever going to wake up, and now he’s–he’s awake and he’s married to her!”
My voice cracked, and I threw myself down onto the chaise like some tragic heroine. “You don’t get it. I can’t let her win. Not like this.”
Papa exhaled and rubbed his temples. “Alina…”
I sat up and narrowed my eyes. “If you don’t demand Scarlett divorce him, I’ll call Mum and tell her you don’t love me anymore.”
He blinked slowly. “You are a menace.”
“I’m your menace,” I said sweetly. “And I want what’s mine.”
There was a long pause. Then Papa finally gave in with a reluctant sigh. “Fine. I’ll talk to Scarlett.”
I clapped my hands like a child at a birthday party. “Yay!”
“But Alina…” he warned, standing and straightening his cufflinks. “If she says no, and she will, you’ll drop it. Understood?”
I batted my lashes. “Of course, Papa.”
Liar. I had no intention of dropping anything.
Because the girl who once had everything?
She just met the one thing she couldn’t tolerate.
Scarlett Colombo with my crown. And I was going to take it back–one way or another.
12:18 Mon, 19 May GM
***
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I wore Valentino red.
Not because I liked her. But because I wanted her to look at me and know she
could never pull it off.
Scarlett was already seated when I walked into the private salon of the Aurelio Estate, calm as ever, sipping something out of a porcelain cup like this was tea time and not a damn confrontation. She looked effortless–like a queen who
didn’t need a crown to burn cities.
Papa stood by the window, quiet, hands clasped behind his back. Which was rare. Usually, he enjoyed orchestrating the show. But today? He looked like a priest caught in a room with two devils and no holy water.
I smiled sweetly as I approached the table, smoothing my dress before sitting across from her. “Scarlett,” I said with a practiced sigh, “thank you for agreeing to meet. I know how precious your time must be now that you’re playing nursemaid to a recovering amnesiac.”
She didn’t even flinch. Just raised one brow and smiled faintly like I was a mildly amusing child who’d spilled wine on a white couch. “Alina,” she said smoothly. “Always such a charmer.”
I ignored the heat crawling up my throat and crossed one leg over the other. “Let’s skip the usual pettiness, shall we? I’m here to offer you something civil. Dignified. A peaceful exit.”
She tilted her head. “A peaceful what?”
“Exit,” I repeated, enunciating it like she was hard of hearing. “You and I both know this marriage of yours–it wasn’t supposed to happen. It was a mess, a tragic little moment of chaos. But Zacharias… he was mine. And you married him while he was unconscious. You know how it looks. But I’m willing to let it go–if you annul it quietly. Let me take over. It’ll be better for everyone. I’ll even pay off your little debts if you want.”
She chuckled. Not laughed. Chuckled. The kind of sound people make when they’re too bored to be angry. She leaned back in her chair and looked at Papa. “You said you raised her better than this.”
He opened his mouth but before he could say a word, Scarlett sliced the air with a glare. “We have a deal, Dad. You abide by yours, and I’ve secured your alliance, I suggest you don’t forget that. Oh, not to mentioned I want my money now. Wired them to my account.”
My Ex–lover Begged for My Love after He Abandoned me
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Papa shut his mouth and turned away. Traitor.
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My fingers curled slightly around the silver spoon next to my glass. “You really think he’ll stay with you?” I asked softly, voice dipped in sugar. “You’re not even his type, Scarlett. Do you know what the press will say once I give them the real story? That you took advantage of a comatose heir. That you stole my fiancé while I was grieving him. The world loved me. They still do.”
Scarlett actually laughed then. “Oh, sweet Alina. That’s the part you still don’t get. The world doesn’t care about your little tragedies anymore.”
I narrowed my eyes. “He doesn’t remember you. He only remembers a blur. A name. A voice. That’s not real. I could-‘
”
“You could what?” she cut in, her voice low, sharp, and silk–lined. “Push more photographers at us? Leak photos of yourself crying in Dior? Turn his recovery into a circus so you can play the victim again?”
I opened my mouth, but she leaned forward, eyes locked on mine like she was daring me to breathe wrong.
“You want Zacharias now? Now that he’s awake and no longer a convenient corpse for your fantasy wedding?” She smiled, slow and venomous. “Why don’t you go play dollhouse with Winston instead? You love doing that, don’t you?”
The heat in my face was wildfire. “Winston is-”
“Was mine,” she cut in, voice gleaming. “But you, being the sneaky little bitch you are, played dress–up and stole him while you were pushing Papa to marry me off to a man you thought would never wake up. And now you want to reverse it all? How convenient.”
I snapped. “Don’t call me a bitch-”
She stood, brushing invisible dust off her coat. “Oh, I will. I am. And unlike you, I don’t beg for what I want. I take it.”
My breath was shallow now. Rage clawing at my chest.
Scarlett’s voice lowered into a whisper, just for me. “Even if you fell to your knees and begged, I would never divorce him. He’s mine now. And I’m going to burn down everything you and Winston built. Slowly. While you watch. So go ahead. Cry to Papa. Call Winston. Tell the tabloids. But just remember–he woke up, and the first thing he remembered… was me.”
Then she turned, heels clicking against marble, and walked away. I sat there, shaking with fury, chest tight, throat burning.
Scarlett declared war
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12:18 Mon, 19 May GM.
Scarlett declared war.
And I don’t lose wars.
I end them.
It’s been seven days since I saw her on screen, and I haven’t slept well right
since.
I told myself I didn’t care. That Scarlett marrying Zacharias was some cruel little power play she pulled just to make me flinch. Hell, maybe it was. But when the camera zoomed in on her–wearing that goddamn black wedding dress like she was born in the ashes of a dynasty–I felt it. Something tighten in my ribs. Something ugly and familiar.
Jealousy.
I sat on the terrace of my private estate in the countryside, glass of whiskey in one hand, cigar in the other, shirt unbuttoned halfway because I’d stopped giving a damn about anything except breathing and not smashing the TV with the remote again.
The news played in the background. They showed her again–Scarlett standing beside Zacharias outside some rehab clinic. Paparazzi flashing, security guards shoving. And yet she stood there like the queen of hell, chin up, spine straight, eyes empty. Even when Zacharias looked at her like she was air in his lungs.
“Fuck,” I muttered, tipping back the drink. The burn wasn’t enough.
“Still watching your ex play house with your maybe–dead rival?” came Matteo’s voice. My old friend swaggered in through the glass doors, tan as ever, uninvited as always. He dropped into the chair across from me and helped himself to the bottle.
“Didn’t know this was a viewing party,” he added, glancing at the screen. “Damn. She really married him? Thought that was a joke.”
I didn’t answer. Just reached for the cigar cutter and flicked it open. Matteo whistled low. “She looks hot, bro. That black dress? Savage. Never seen someone walk into a marriage like it’s a funeral she planned herself.”
I glared. “Shut up.”
“Relax. I’m just saying. Didn’t she used to cry over you? Wasn’t she, like, obsessed or something?”
I stayed quiet. He kept going.
Chapter 12
12:19 Mon, 19 May GM
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“Funny how things flip, huh? She used to follow you like a dog. Now look at her. Ice cold. Walking next to a billionaire coma–prince like she owns the world.”
I downed another shot. “Alina’s still in London,” I said flatly. “She had business.”
“Sure she did,” Matteo said with a chuckle. “Or maybe she needed a break from her grumpy fiancé with a bruised ego.”
I snapped, “I’m not jealous.”
He held up both hands. “Never said you were.”
But he looked at me with that damn smirk like he knew I was lying. Maybe I
was.
Because truth was–Alina hadn’t called in days. We were both pretending to be too busy for each other, and for once, I didn’t mind. Gave me time to think.
About Scarlett.
The last time I saw her–really saw her–was when she whipped that paddle across my back. Rage in her eyes. Her voice like cracked obsidian, sharp and painful and beautiful. And I remembered every goddamn second. The scent of her skin. The way she snarled my name. The way she cried when I walked
away.
Now she didn’t even flinch when the press dragged her name through hell.
She smiled. She smiled standing next to another man.
“You still love her?” Matteo asked casually, like he was asking if I wanted another drink.
“No,” I said. Too fast.
He chuckled. “You sure?”
=
=
I stared at the screen. Zacharias reached for her hand. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t look at him either. That was the worst part. She looked ahead–like the future was hers and nothing behind her mattered anymore.
“Why the hell did she wear black to a wedding?” I muttered. “Why the hell did she wear b
Matteo shrugged. “Because she doesn’t marry for love. She marries for war.”
That stuck with me.
And for the first time in years, I wondered if I was the fool for ever thinking I could tame her.
Scarlett Royce wasn’t a woman you owned. She was a woman you survived. And watching her now–alive, lethal, loved–I wasn’t sure I ever would again.
My Ex–lover Begged for My Love after He Abandoned me
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I leaned back in the leather chair, cigar smoke curling in the air like the ghost of her perfume–jasmine and fire. That’s how she always smelled. Even when she was running barefoot through the estate gardens, even when she stormed into rooms like a hurricane in red lipstick.
I leaned back in the armchair, staring at the empty glass in my hand. The fireplace crackled. The silence clawed at me. And her laugh–God, her laugh- kept echoing in my skull like a ghost with unfinished business.
I remember everything.
More than I should.
“Apply for Alina’s security detail,” I’d said to Paul Royce when I first walked into that cold mansion. “I’ve read her profile. I can blend well, discreet. No distractions.”
He glanced up from his papers and smirked. “Alina’s leaving for London. Scarlett’s staying. You’ll protect her.”
Scarlett.
The wild daughter. The one they kept in whispered tones and long shadows. She wasn’t polished like Alina. She didn’t pretend to be. She met me that afternoon barefoot, eating mango straight from the fruit knife, and said,
“So you’re the new toy?”
“No, ma’am. I’m your new shadow.”
“Good,” she grinned, licking juice from her thumb. “I hate being alone in the dark.”
Back then, I still loved Alina. Still dreamed about her walking down London streets in oversized sunglasses and silk. But Scarlett–she wasn’t the plan. Until she became the only thing I could see.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?!” Scarlett snapped that night, clutching my bloody hand after I punched out one of the masked bastards who tried to drag her into a black van.
“I’ve had worse,” I shrugged.
“You’re bleeding,” she hissed. “You’re bleeding for me.”
“That’s my job-”
“I didn’t ask for a hero,” she snapped. “I asked for you to survive.”
And then she bandaged me up. Sat in front of me on her knees, lips trembling,
A/A
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rapping my hand like I was something precious.
You’re not disposable, Creed! I don’t care if you think you are.”
hat’s when the line between protector and obsession cracked.
