Chapter 10
Scarlett’s fingers trembled as she dialed Charles’s number.
He picked up after a few rings, voice cold. “Didn’t we agree not to contact each other anymore? The severance agreement was sent to you. The month’s almost up-you need to get to Westbridge today or tomorrow. No excuses.”
“I just have one question.” Her voice was hoarse. “Did you give me to Sebastian Reed for ‘discipline’? Or did he ask for
me?”
A pause. “What’s the point of digging that up now?”
“Just tell me.”
2
Charles was silent for a beat. “It was him. Traded for that Lakeside development deal. I was sick of dealing with you
anyway. Solved two problems at once.”
The phone hit the floor with a loud crack. The screen shattered.
Scarlett burst into laughter.
Wild, broken laughter that echoed through the empty villa-guttural and raw, spilling out like years of swallowed pain.
“Sebastian Reed… You really outdid yourself.”
After a long while, she wiped her face clean, stood, and pulled her packed suitcase from the closet.
She walked toward the front door, slow but steady. Every step felt like walking barefoot across blades-painful, but
unshakable.
At the door, she stopped.
Her fingers brushed something in her coat pocket-a lighter.
The one Sebastian had given her for her birthday. “To Scarlett,” it read, in his neat, slanted handwriting.
She let out a soft laugh.
Then, without hesitation, she struck the flame-
And tossed it into the curtains.
With a loud whoosh, fire erupted across the living room.
Scarlett stepped outside and sat on her suitcase, calmly watching the flames consume everything:
The couch where they’d tangled together.
The table where he once kissed her.
And the bed where she once naively thought he might’ve loved her-just a little.
Sebastian arrived an hour later.
His black sedan screeched to a halt in front of the burning villa.
He threw the car door open.
The fire was roaring, lighting up the sky.
And there she was-sitting quietly on her suitcase, face pale, eyes hollow, watching it all burn. Tears had dried on her cheeks, but the red around her eyes remained.
Sebastian’s chest clenched.
He’d come armed with a thousand accusations, but the moment he saw her, all his words caught in his throat.
“You burned the house down,” he said finally, voice low. “Do you feel better now, Princess?”
Scarlett lifted her gaze.
Those once bright eyes, filled with love and laughter, were now flat. Distant. Dead.
She stared at him like he was a stranger., said nothing.
“Mr. Reed,” his assistant rushed over, “your private jet is ready. The Zurich summit can’t be delayed again.”
Sebastian rubbed his brow. “Have someone deal with the house.”
He paused, then glanced at Scarlett. “Send her to the Lakeside property.”
“No need,” Scarlett finally spoke. Her voice was rough but firm. “I’m going home.”
He misread her words, thinking she meant Shaw Manor. His expression eased slightly. “Glad you’ve come to your senses.”
He turned, his long coat catching the night wind as he walked away. “I can’t always clean up your messes,” he said.
Scarlett didn’t move. She just stood there, watching him go, a faint, bitter smile tugging at her lips.
“Sebastian Reed…” she whispered, so softly the wind nearly stole her words, “may we never meet again.”
“What?” He glanced back.
But Scarlett had already opened the cab door and stepped inside.
He assumed she was sulking. Didn’t ask further. Got into his own car without a second glance.
Unnoticed by him, two cars pulled into the airport, one after the other.
On the tarmac, Sebastian boarded his private jet without looking back, documents in hand.
Meanwhile, inside the terminal, Scarlett transferred two weeks’ worth of rent and hospital bills to his account. Then she dropped her phone in a trash bin-
And walked straight toward the gate for a commercial flight to Westbridge.
Two planes took off that night.
Flying in opposite directions.
Never to cross paths again.
