Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Scarlett
I watch myself on the screen sitting in a chair in front of the desk, staring into space as if I've lost my mind.
I had at the time.
My past self's eyes are vacant, dark circles beneath them like bruises.
From the look of me, I can tell that was one of my earlier sessions when I'd just arrived and was going through all sorts of withdrawal symptoms. The memory of those days hits me like a physical blow, making me nauseous.
Those sessions were with Dr. Polinsky. She was one of the nicest people I'd ever met in my life, but during those sessions, she felt like my greatest enemy. Every kind word from her had felt like sandpaper on raw nerves.
It was like that for a long time until her team got me under control and back to normal. She was the reason I was able to leave the hospital with my mind intact and a chance for the future. The thought offers no comfort now as my past self writhes on screen.
" What do you think will help you, Scarlett ?" asks Dr. Polinsky's soothing voice on the recording. It echoes through the silent room, each word a blow to my dignity.
The version of myself on the screen screams, " I need more drugs. Just give me more drugs. Give me anything !" The desperate plea rips through the elegant space like a knife.
My hands instinctively clutch my heart as I stare at myself ripping a chunk of my hair out, then the screams continue. Shrill, loud, humiliating.
Each cry feels like it's being torn from my own throat now.
My past self’s screams ripple around the room until I descend into a bout of sobs. I watch myself lower to the floor, where I hug myself and cry. The sounds of my past pain fill the room, bouncing off the marble and crystal until they seem to come from everywhere at once.
How strange. We were all silent before but now a different sort of silence has drifted over us as everyone watches the broken version of me. It's the silence of vultures circling, waiting to feed on the remains of my dignity.
Embarrassment floods me like nothing I've ever felt in my life and I stand, my gaze snapping to Eloise, who is loving this. Her smile cuts like a blade, triumph gleaming in her eyes.
She did this.
This woman has insulted me because I'm married to the man she wants.
What an absolute bitch. I'm all for keeping the peace but I can't let this slide. Rage burns through me, hot enough to scorch away the shame.
Lucy and Genevieve are calling to me but I ignore them and march up to Eloise, right onto the stage, each step echoing with purpose.
I stop in front of her and glare at her, ready for a fight. My hands shake with fury, nails biting into my palms. "Turn it off now."
She gives me that stupid look, as if she doesn't know what's going on. Her false innocence makes bile rise in my throat. "I've been trying to. I have no idea how it got there."
"You expect me to believe that? You have no right to do this to me." My voice trembles with barely-contained rage.
"What makes you think I did anything?"
"Save the shit, Eloise. You did this. Who else would do it?"
She laughs a little and flicks her wrist. "Okay, so maybe my files got mixed up and yours accidentally ended up in my presentation." Her voice drips with false innocence, each word carefully chosen to cut.
"What the hell are you talking about? What files?" The words scrape past my tight throat.
"Files from my private investigator. I wanted to see what type of trash Micah was marrying. And my, did I get the shock of my life. You really are trash ." Her lips curl in a sneer that makes my skin crawl.
"You bitch. You have no right to investigate me." My hands shake with rage, blood pounding in my ears.
"Maybe not, but you, my dear... something's not right with you. I didn't find everything, but I thought we all deserved to know who you are." She raises her voice so everyone can hear, the words echoing off the ornate ceiling. "You and Micah never seemed legit to me. You claim to have dated for over six months, yet during that time, you cleaned hotels and worked in a gritty little diner in Denver. That was until weeks before your wedding."
"That has nothing to do with you," I snap, but my body feels like stone is running through my veins.
"The Micah I know would never allow any girlfriend of his to work in places like that. Not for so long. So, do tell me, Mrs. Delarosa, did he pay you to marry him? How much did he pay you?" Her words slice through the air like poisoned daggers.
"Stop it." I hate how my voice trembles, betraying my weakness.
"I'm sure if I dug deep enough, I'd find out how much. Maybe from your bank statements."
"Stop it."
"Stop what? Are you begging me not to look." She gives me a vicious smile that makes her cold eyes look more evil. "You know what? I don't think I need to do anything more. The truth is written all over you. You're a gold-digging nobody from a small town with nothing. You're only here because of Micah Delarosa. You got that part in your movie deal because of him. This"—she points to the screen—"is the real you. You don't belong here. What you need to do is go back to where you came from." Each word is a nail in my coffin of humiliation.
"That is enough." Genevieve is right beside me, but I feel like I'm slipping away into a black hole, the edges of my vision growing dark.
"Oh, please, Genevieve. Since when did the Delarosa family start bringing trash into their home? Normally, people take it out."
The moment Eloise spits out that last word, Genevieve lands a slap across her face so hard it leaves a mark, the crack echoing through the stunned silence.
Eloise is so shocked she touches her cheek and winces, her fingers coming away with blood. Her perfect makeup is smeared, revealing the ugliness beneath.
" My mother didn't love me ," whispers the battered version of me on the screen. The words float through the air like ghosts. Dr. Polinsky is now beside me, trying to comfort me. " She left me when I was nine. That means she didn't love me, right? "
My voice trails off. How fitting, because I have no voice now, either. The silence in the room is deafening, pressing against my eardrums like a physical force.
I always knew the answer to that question. No, my mother didn't love me, and now everyone in my newfound life knows it, too. The knowledge sits like ice in my stomach.
I'm so embarrassed I can barely breathe. The air feels too thick, too heavy. Seeing myself so broken breaks me all over again and I realize I can't fight. I don't want to. I shouldn't have to.
My legs tremble beneath me, threatening to give way.
Tears blind me before I even turn to flee. When I do, I rush off the stage, but only to crash into a pair of strong arms that hold me in place. The impact stuns me, but the familiar scent of sandalwood and safety grounds me, anchoring my heart.
Through my tears, I look up to see Micah.
He releases my arm to touch my cheek, drying my tears with a gentleness that makes my heart stutter. The calluses on his fingertips catch slightly against my skin, grounding me in the present. Then he looks away from me and stares up at Eloise, anger replacing the tenderness. The change in his expression is like watching storm clouds roll in over a peaceful sea.
Someone steps up beside us. It's Giovanni, Micah's father. Brahm is here, too, and Lorenzo, Micah's other cousin.
They all saw the video. The knowledge settles like frost in my veins, but when I realize they look just as disgusted at Eloise as Genevieve, their collective presence feels like a wall of protection around me, the air charging with their quiet fury.
Micah takes my hand and I’m surprised when he walks me right back onto the stage, where Eloise still stands, gaping.
Her eyes are round with terror, amplified by the bruise on her cheek from Genevieve’s slap. “Micah?—”
“Apologize to my wife now.” His voice holds a dark tone I’ve never heard before.
“But, Micah?—”
“Apologize to my wife right the fuck now .” His voice is so loud it carries across the room like thunder.
I look from Eloise to Micah, taking in both their reactions. She looks smaller and not nearly as powerful as she did before Micah arrived.
Micah looks like a heartless man who has no regard for bullshit. Eloise can see it, too. That’s why she looks at me, her lips parting to apologize.
“I’m sorry.” The apology is as fake as her.
“Say it louder so everyone can hear. And say her name. It’s Scarlett.”
Eloise tenses at the order, but she knows she can’t fuck with Micah, so she doesn’t try. “I’m sorry, Scarlett.”
“Now you listen to me. From this day onward, you are not welcomed anywhere near me or my family. So, don’t you ever come near my wife again or try shit like this.”
Eloise trembles. “How can you pick her?”
“I love her. It was easy.”
My heart stutters, then it races wildly against my ribs.
Those words— I love her— ring in my ears. That’s the first time he’s said anything of the sort, although I’ve felt his love several times. I just never thought he would say the words because we’re supposed to be a contract.
Now he’s said them so certain, so absolute, so easily in front of a hall full of people who may as well be the world.
I shouldn't feel triumph at Eloise's trembling form, but dark satisfaction curls through my veins, healing the deep embarrassment she’s caused me.
Micah looks away from her and back at me. Something fierce yet tender blooms in my chest and in his eyes. It makes me feel stronger.
Each heartbeat that resonates in my chest sings to me, telling me he chose me, he chose me, he chose me .
He gives my hand a gentle squeeze then leads me back off the stage.
Hand in hand, we walk out of the room, and for the first time since I’ve been with him, I feel like his.
Micah holds my hand all the way home in the back seat of the car, and he doesn't let go even when we reach home. He also remains silent, although I can see there's a lot on his mind—things to do with what happened at the event and the previous things that troubled him.
When we get out the car, he leads me into the house in the same fog of silence but walks with determination and purpose in each step.
The click of our footsteps against the floor echoes through the hallway, each sound reverberating through our joined hands.
He takes me right into the bedroom and into the walk-in closet, where he presses a button on the wall for it to slide away, revealing a safe. The mechanical whir breaks the thick silence, and my pulse quickens with each number he dials.
I look from his stern face to the safe, curiosity gripping my insides. The air feels electric, charged with unspoken possibilities.
He opens the safe and takes out a large envelope. Only then does he release my hand and pulls out a contract— our contract . The paper feels like it holds the weight of destiny itself.
Micah holds it up in front of me, then he tears it right down the middle. The sound of ripping paper cuts through the silence. "I'll give you the rest of the money now. Consider it a wedding present." The firmness in his expression and the intensity of his dark stare keeps me rooted to the spot, stealing my breath.
"What do you mean? You can't do that." My voice comes out barely above a whisper, trembling like a butterfly's wings.
"I can and I am because I can't keep the terms of this contract. I don't want you to stay with me for a year. I want you forever."
My breath catches, and I gaze at him, not quite believing what he's saying to me. The word forever expands in my chest like wildfire. "Micah... forever?" I search his eyes, realizing how serious he is. He looked just like that night weeks ago when he told me how he felt about me.
"Forever, Scarlett. I love you, so I will never stop being selfish with you, and I will never stop loving you."
"I love you, too." That's the first time in my life that I've ever said those words and meant them from my soul.
Micah drops the pieces of the contract and cups my face. The torn paper flutters to the ground like fallen leaves. "Then stay with me forever, bellezza. Say you'll be mine forever. We'll be a family, have kids, do whatever you want, and I can love you until the end of time and beyond that."
My heart swells and a hot tear rolls down my cheek, seeping from the depths of my soul.
In this moment, this man—my beautiful, dangerous angel—holds not just my face but my entire world in his hands.
I realize that thing I felt for him all along was true love. Micah Delarosa wasn’t just my prince. He is my salvation and like every dream come true.
I nod like my life depends on it and hold him, too. “Yes. I want forever with you.”
His expression brightens with a light that reaches his eyes, then he lowers and seals his lips to mine, pulling me flush against his hard body and the rapid beating of his heart.
Our kiss turns hungry and desperate, stealing over me in possessive waves. Micah pushes me up against the wall and I melt into him, giving myself to him all over again.
He pushes my dress up to my hips, moves my panties aside, and shoves his pants down to free his cock. The next few seconds see him buried deep inside me, tunneling into my body. But this feels different to every other time he’s taken me.
The world stills while my head spins at the same time, but our hearts beat as one. Like I was made for him and he for me.
Like I finally found the missing piece of my life and now I’m complete.
I’m not broken anymore.