Chapter 6

The next morning, at 8:55 AM.

Scarlett arrived precisely on time at the entrance of the Getty Manor.

She wore a camel-colored cashmere coat that made her already pale face look even more bloodless.

Yet her spine remained perfectly straight, chin slightly raised, without a trace of defeat.

Thaddeus was already waiting in the foyer, maintaining his cold, distant demeanor.

When he saw her, he merely lifted his eyelids slightly, said nothing, and turned toward the garage.

Scarlett followed behind him, maintaining three steps between them, like two parallel lines that would never intersect.

The journey passed in silence.

The atmosphere in the car was suffocating.

At the hospital, Owen was already waiting in the VIP lounge with Eli accompanying him.

Upon seeing Scarlett, Owen's previously gloomy face finally showed a hint of a smile.

"Scarlett's here."

"Grandpa."

Scarlett stepped forward, naturally taking the medical chart from Eli's hands, expertly discussing Owen's recent health condition with his attending physician, Dr. Flynn Murphy, and arranging the upcoming examinations.

Her voice was steady and gentle, her thoughts organized, without a trace of emotional fluctuation.

Thaddeus stood to the side, watching as she handled everything with methodical efficiency.

He observed her professional and detached smile as she spoke with doctors and nurses.

He suddenly realized that Scarlett was far more resilient than he had imagined.

After enduring such unbearable humiliation and accusations, she could still remain so calm.

It was as if the malice that could crush a person had never left any trace on her.

Throughout the morning's examinations, Scarlett barely rested, staying constantly by Owen's side.

That familiar sensation of nausea surged up again, but she forcefully suppressed it.

She couldn't lose composure here.

The test results were normal, which pleased Owen and improved his spirits considerably.

On the way back, he looked at his two grandchildren beside him and spoke with heartfelt sincerity.

"Thaddeus, Scarlett is a good girl. Don't always treat her with such a cold face."

Thaddeus's hands tightened on the steering wheel, but he remained silent.

"Between husband and wife, no conflict lasts forever. Whatever issues you have, just talk them through."

"As a man, you should be more accommodating to your wife."

Each of Owen's words of reconciliation felt like tiny needles piercing Scarlett's heart.

She turned her head to look at the rapidly receding streetscape outside the window, her eyes burning with unshed tears.

Unfortunately, it was too late.

Some things, once broken, could never be pieced back together.

After dropping Owen off, Scarlett didn't return to that suffocating house.

She had the driver take her to her studio.

Yvaine was startled when she saw her.

"Why are you here? You look terrible—shouldn't you be resting at home for a few more days?"

"It's nothing," Scarlett shook her head. "Sitting idle only makes me feel more stifled."

She walked into her private recording booth, that small space her only sanctuary.

Only here could she temporarily forget she was Mrs. Getty, forget those unbearable memories, and return to being the radiant "Hymn."

Yvaine watched her fragile silhouette with both concern and helplessness, which eventually transformed into a sigh.

"Very well."

She handed over a new project file.

"This is for 'Guardian of the Dawn,' a film Galaxy Animation Studio has been developing for three years. The director specifically requested you for the voice of the female protagonist, 'Tatum.'"

Scarlett took the script and began to review it.

It was a story about growth and redemption, where the protagonist "Tatum" evolved from a naive young girl into a divine woman who protected her homeland after enduring numerous hardships.

This character's journey bore some resemblance to her own.

"I'll take it."

Thaddeus could take everything else from Scarlett, but he couldn't take away her professionalism and passion ingrained in her bones.

That was her last armor.

In the days that followed, Scarlett practically lived in the recording studio.

She read the script repeatedly, immersing herself in the character's inner world, channeling all her emotions into her voice acting.

She used her voice to shape Tatum's joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness, while also using the character to release her own uncontainable pain.

Work temporarily numbed her, but her physical discomfort became increasingly frequent.

Dry heaving, dizziness, drowsiness.

Yvaine saw it all and worried, repeatedly urging Scarlett to get a medical checkup, but she always deflected with the excuse of being busy with work.

She was afraid to go.

She feared hearing that result, she couldn't face it.

That afternoon, just as she finished a voice recording session, exhausted and about to take a break, Yvaine pushed open the door with a troubled expression.

"Lavinia is here."

Scarlett froze.

"She says she has something to give you."

Scarlett put down her water glass, stood up, and walked out expressionlessly.

In the café outside the studio, Lavinia had chosen a window seat.

She had been discharged from the hospital, wearing an elegant dress with subtle makeup. The bandage on her arm had been removed, leaving only a faint pink mark.

Seeing Scarlett, she smiled brightly, her smile radiant and innocent, like an unworldly angel.

"Scarlett, you're here."

Lavinia gestured to the seat across from her. "Please, sit."

Scarlett didn't sit, just looked down at her, her voice betraying no emotion.

"What is it?"

Unfazed, Lavinia took out a document from her Hermès bag and gently pushed it to the center of the table.

"Thaddeus asked me to give this to you."

It was a divorce agreement.

The words "Divorce Agreement" at the top seared Scarlett's heart.

She lowered her eyes to the signature at the bottom of the document.

The name "Thaddeus" was written with sharp strokes, just like the man himself.

He had already signed it.

"Thaddeus said he doesn't want to see you again or waste another word on you, so he asked me to do this instead."

Lavinia lifted her coffee cup and took a deliberate sip, her posture graceful.

Her voice remained sweet and gentle, yet every word cut deep.

"He also said that the villa and the five million dollars in your bank account are yours to keep, as compensation for taking care of him and his son these past three years."

She paused, raised her eyes to look at the pale-faced Scarlett, with a smile that held a barely perceptible trace of pity.

"Scarlett, thank you."

"For taking care of him all these years. For me."

Taking care of him for her?

So in these three years of marriage that Scarlett had struggled to maintain, she was just a laughable substitute.

Now that the real one had returned, she, the substitute, should gracefully exit the stage.

The immense humiliation and pain threatened to consume her entirely.

Scarlett stared at the agreement on the table that had already pronounced her sentence, for a very long time.

So long that even Lavinia began to grow impatient.

Finally, Scarlett raised her head, looking at Lavinia with an icy voice.

"This is between Thaddeus and me."

"It's not your place to interfere."

"Tell him to come talk to me himself."