Chapter 7
Edith trembled with rage.
This dress was custom-made specifically for the party—a limited global edition!
But seeing the curious glances from the guests around her, she had no choice but to swallow her fury.
She took a deep breath and forced out a smile. "It's fine. I know you didn't mean it."
Yet her smile looked more painful than tears, with venom practically seeping from her gaze.
Scarlett watched Edith's attempt to maintain composure and felt a rush of satisfaction.
'Show off all you want, act smug all you want—how does it feel now?'
But this satisfaction was quickly replaced by an inexplicable twinge of bitterness as she looked toward Sebastian. He stood with his back to her, speaking to Edith. His profile was sharp and angular, but his tone gentle.
This was a tenderness and understanding he'd never shown her.
Was this the difference between a fiancée and a mistress? Moments ago, when he'd instinctively steadied her, he'd immediately let go, as if terrified of being associated with her in any way.
Scarlett shook her head and smiled self-mockingly, forcing the thought from her mind.
The party continued, though the atmosphere had clearly turned awkward. Edith returned wearing a different dress, but her enthusiasm was gone, her smile permanently stiff.
Midway through, Sebastian excused himself to use the restroom, leaving the party. Not long after, Scarlett's phone vibrated with a text from Sebastian: [Had enough fun?]
Scarlett stared at those words, her finger hovering over the screen as a wave of resentment washed over her. It was laughable, really.
She turned off her phone without replying and left the party. She had no desire to stay and watch Sebastian and Edith play the loving couple.
The day after the party, Edith locked herself in her room and smashed three vases.
"That bitch did it on purpose!" Edith sat at her vanity, staring at her swollen eyes in the mirror. "And Seb—he actually defended her! Is he sleeping with that slut behind my back?"
Brianna sat beside her, alternately soothing her and fueling her rage. "I knew that tramp was up to no good!"
This only intensified Edith's anger. "We need to get rid of Scarlett!" She clenched her fists, a flash of cruelty in her eyes.
"She'll ruin my marriage if we don't! Mom, you have to help me. Find someone who can put her in her place—someone who'll make sure she never causes trouble again!"
Brianna narrowed her eyes, her fingers tapping lightly on the armrest as she considered who could control Scarlett and keep her in line for good.
"Don't worry." Brianna patted Edith's hand, her tone confident. "I know exactly what to do. I promise she'll never dare show her face around you again."
That afternoon, Brianna pushed open the attic door.
"What do you want?" Scarlett asked coldly.
"Mr. Campbell has reconsidered," Brianna said with a fake smile. "He's willing to overlook what happened last time and wants to see you again."
Scarlett frowned. "I'm not going."
"You will go!" Brianna's expression immediately darkened as she stepped forward. "I've already arranged everything with Mr. Campbell. He's waiting in a suite at The Gilded Hour Club. You're coming with me now. This is your last chance—don't make me get nasty."
Scarlett saw the calculation in her eyes and grew suspicious. Brianna's attitude was unusually forceful, unlike her typical approach to setting up dates.
Fine. She'd like to see whatever game Brianna was playing.
"Fine, I'll go," she said, grabbing her purse. "But I'm just meeting him. Whether anything comes of it depends entirely on my mood."
"That's all I ask." Brianna's smile was stiff as she turned to head downstairs, her steps unusually hurried.
In the car, Brianna handed her a bottle of chilled juice. "It's hot. Have something to cool down."
Scarlett took it, her suspicion growing. When had Brianna ever shown this kind of "concern" for her?
She casually twisted off the cap and pretended to take a sip, noticing from the corner of her eye how Brianna watched her reaction. Definitely suspicious.
The car stopped at The Gilded Hour Club, and Brianna personally escorted her to the suite on the top floor. "Mr. Campbell is waiting inside. Go on in—I'll wait for you downstairs."
Scarlett nodded and pushed open the door. The suite was dimly lit, with a sickly-sweet fragrance permeating the air that made her feel uneasy.
Just as she reached for the light switch, a wave of dizziness hit her, and her limbs began to weaken.
Damn! The fragrance was drug! She hadn't drunk the juice, but they'd drugged the air instead.
Scarlett stumbled toward the door, hoping to escape, only to find it locked from the outside. "Damn it!"
She leaned against the door, fighting to stay conscious as her mind grew foggy. She could feel an unnatural heat rising within her body, her rationality slipping away with each breath.
No, she couldn't just collapse here. Scarlett staggered to the bedroom and locked the door behind her.
She pulled out her phone, her fingers trembling so badly she kept hitting the wrong buttons. With her last bit of clarity, she turned on her location and sent it to Chris, then used all her remaining strength to hide the phone under the pillow.
Having done this, she slid to the floor beside the bed, no longer able to stay upright.
Soon after, Scarlett vaguely heard violent kicking at the door, as if someone was trying to break it down completely. Chris couldn't be this quick; was it that Lucas?
She struggled to her feet and grabbed the ashtray from the nightstand. Even this small action drained her remaining energy, and she collapsed to her knees.
With a tremendous crash, the door was kicked open. Scarlett forced her eyes open. Through her blurred vision, she saw a tall figure rush in.
Thinking it was Lucas, she swung the ashtray at his head as he approached. In an instant, her wrist was caught in a firm grip. Then she smelled a familiar, faint scent of cedar—Sebastian?
"Sebastian," she whispered, her dry lips barely moving.
Just then, Lucas's voice came from outside, sleazy and playful, "Where are you hiding, pretty girl? Come out and play with me."
He was about to enter the bedroom. Scarlett's heart tightened with fear. She clutched Sebastian's sleeve, almost begging, "Take me away."
Only when she felt Sebastian's warm embrace did she finally relax, passing out from exhaustion.
When she regained consciousness, it was the harsh sunlight that woke her. She sat up abruptly, taking in the familiar ceiling—minimalist, cool-toned, with an aloof sense of luxury.
She was at Sebastian's private villa.
She finally allowed herself to breathe. Until now, she hadn't been certain Sebastian would actually take her away.
At least he had some humanity after all.