Chapter 3
"You have half an hour to put on makeup and clean yourself up. We're meeting Mr. Campbell this afternoon!" With that, Brianna slammed the attic door shut.
Scarlett let out a cold laugh. They certainly were eager.
Half an hour later, Brianna kicked open the attic door and scrutinized Scarlett's faded cotton dress with a deep frown. "You're wearing that? Didn't I tell you to put on something decent?"
Scarlett looked up, her eyes empty. "This is all I have."
"Nonsense!" Brianna reached to grab her dress. "I know Edith threw away several unworn dresses last year. Couldn't you have picked up a couple? Don't embarrass me!"
Scarlett stepped aside, avoiding her hand. "What's wrong with this dress?" She glanced at Brianna's brand-new Chanel suit. "It's clean and tidy. Better than wearing expensive clothes while harboring filthy thoughts."
"You're asking for it!" Brianna raised her hand to strike.
Scarlett's eyes hardened as she walked past her and out of the attic. "Are we going or not?"
She didn't spare a glance at Brianna's rage-filled face as she headed downstairs.
Fine, she'd go. She wanted to see what Brianna was plotting. Besides, if she married, wouldn't she finally escape Sebastian's entanglement?
The black sedan drove along the main road while Brianna continued her endless instructions.
"When you meet Mr. Campbell, be sweet. Smile more, talk less. Understand?" She glared at Scarlett warningly.
"Stop reaching for things beyond your station. Marry properly, take the Campbell family's bride price, and repay the Seymour family for raising you all these years."
Raising her? Scarlett's lips curved into a cold smile. Yes, eighteen years of "care"—endless confinement in that dark room, Edith's relentless bullying, Brianna's escalating torment, David's indifferent neglect.
She hadn't stayed with the Seymour family because of any ridiculous "gratitude." She stayed because she knew their true faces—they wouldn't let her go until they'd extracted every last bit of value from her.
And she still had questions about what happened years ago. Everyone said her mother had forced the Seymour family to take her in through suicide, but something felt wrong.
That woman in the old photographs, with gentle features but resilient eyes—how could she have chosen such an extreme method? And why would she have been interested in that David?
"Why so quiet? Cat got your tongue?" Brianna shoved her.
Scarlett snapped back to the present. "I understand."
Satisfied with her response, Brianna huffed approvingly and resumed boasting about how excellent and promising Lucas Campbell was, as if marrying him would be Scarlett's salvation.
Scarlett stopped listening and closed her eyes, pretending to doze.
The car eventually stopped at an upscale club. "Let's go." Brianna forced a fawning smile and led Scarlett inside.
A man was already seated in the private room, around twenty-seven or twenty-eight, wearing a loud floral shirt.
"Mr. Campbell, sorry we're late." Brianna's smile created wrinkles all over her face. "This is my Scarlett I told you about."
Lucas's gaze instantly landed on Scarlett, scanning her from head to toe, pausing briefly at her strikingly beautiful face.
"Ms. Seymour, I've been waiting." He patted the empty space beside him with a grin. "Please sit."
Scarlett didn't move, just stood there, looking at him calmly.
"A real ice queen, huh?" Lucas wasn't bothered. "Didn't Mrs. Seymour tell you? With me, you'll have everything you want—the best of everything."
His tone dripped with condescension, as if Scarlett were a beggar awaiting his charity.
Brianna nudged Scarlett forward. "Thank Mr. Campbell, quickly!"
Scarlett finally moved to the sofa but deliberately maintained distance from Lucas.
"Mr. Campbell, you must be joking," she said, lifting the teacup and taking a small sip, her tone neither submissive nor arrogant. "I'm just here to meet you, not to 'be with' you."
Lucas raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised by her response. He studied her—despite the ordinary dress, her breathtaking beauty was undeniable.
"You're quite direct, Ms. Seymour." Lucas smiled, offering her a glass of wine. "Drink?"
Scarlett shook her head. "Sorry, I don't drink."
"You don't drink?" Lucas laughed as if hearing a joke. "You've lived with the Seymour family all these years and don't know how to drink?"
He leaned closer, lowering his voice suggestively, "Ms. Seymour, I know your life with the Seymour family hasn't been good. If you behave, I promise no one will ever mistreat you again."
His breath fell on her neck, heavy with alcohol and cheap cologne, making her stomach churn.
Fighting her disgust, Scarlett forced a smile and reached for the glass. "Since you insist, who am I to refuse?"
Seeing this, Lucas smiled triumphantly, believing she'd finally recognized her place.
The moment he relaxed his guard, Scarlett flicked her wrist, splashing the entire glass of wine in his face.
Lucas howled in pain, wine dripping down his face and clothes, looking utterly pathetic.
Brianna stood frozen in shock. "You... have you lost your mind?"
"Sorry, my hand slipped," Scarlett replied without a hint of remorse. "I just remembered I have something to do. Excuse me."
With that, she stood and walked out, her movements swift and decisive, giving no one time to react.
"Scarlett! Are you insane?" Brianna screamed, chasing her into the club's hallway and grabbing her arm, ready to slap her.
Scarlett caught her wrist, her eyes cold as steel. "What? You approve of that scum? How much did he pay you to push me into that hellhole?"
"You little slut!" Brianna trembled with rage, her other hand reaching to pull Scarlett's hair. "I'm doing this for your own good! How dare you speak to me like that? I'll tear your mouth apart!"
Just then, a clear male voice cut in, "Stop!"
Scarlett looked up to see Chris Wright. She'd met him at a racing event—a typical rich kid, but unpretentious, with a lively personality. One of the few people she could actually talk to.
He had been driving by and immediately jumped out of his car, striding over angrily and pulling Scarlett behind him protectively.
"Mr. Wright?" Brianna recognized him and instantly deflated, awkwardly withdrawing her hand. "What are you doing here?"
"Is this how you treat your daughter, Mrs. Seymour? Hitting her in public? Aren't you worried about embarrassing the Seymour family?"
Brianna squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze, unable to respond. The Wright family held considerable influence—she couldn't afford to offend Chris.
"Get lost," Chris snapped, making no effort to hide his impatience.
Brianna seized the opportunity to escape, shooting Scarlett a venomous glare before hurrying away.
The hallway finally fell quiet. Chris looked at Scarlett's pale face and sighed, pulling her toward his car. "What happened this time? The Seymour family giving you trouble again?"
"They're trying to sell me off," Scarlett said lightly, staring out the window. "That Mr. Campbell—he's the buyer they found."