13. Scarlett/ Christian
13
SCARLETT/ CHRISTIAN
SCARLETT
I hated this.
Hated the doubt clawing at my chest. Hated the exhaustion weighing me down.
Hated that, no matter how hard I fought, it felt like I was always one step behind.
And most of all?
I hated that I was about to do the one thing I swore I wouldn’t.
Push Christian away.
But I had to.
The text message—the threat—still lingered in my mind, a sharp, insidious whisper reminding me that I wasn’t just fighting for my restaurant anymore.
Whoever was behind this wanted to destroy me. And if I wasn’t careful, they’d take Christian down with me.
I couldn’t let that happen.
I straightened my spine and walked into Amélie’s kitchen, pushing past the nervous glances from my staff.
They all felt it—the uncertainty, the weight of the sabotage, the lingering doubt over whether we’d still be standing a month from now.
I needed to be strong for them.
For myself.
For the restaurant I built with my own two hands.
And if that meant making sacrifices?
So be it.
When Christian showed up that evening, I was ready.
He strode into my office, looking like a storm brewing just beneath the surface—controlled, but barely.
His jaw was tight, his dark eyes scanning me like he already knew something was wrong.
He always knew.
"Talk to me," he said, his voice steady but firm.
I exhaled, gripping the edge of my desk. "I need to focus on Amélie."
His expression didn’t change, but I saw the way his shoulders tensed. "You are focused on Amélie. That doesn’t mean you have to do this alone."
I shook my head. "Christian, this isn’t just about me anymore. Whoever’s behind this is serious. They’re threatening me now. And if I don’t stop this, I’ll lose everything."
His eyes darkened. "Then let me help you."
"You have helped," I said, my voice quieter. "More than I ever expected. But I need to stand on my own two feet. I need to fix this myself."
Silence stretched between us.
Christian didn’t speak right away. He studied me, his gaze sharp and assessing, as if searching for the cracks beneath my words.
Finally, he exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "So that’s it? You just want me to step back?"
My chest ached, but I nodded. "For now."
His jaw flexed. "Scarlett?—"
"Please," I whispered.
His entire body tensed.
Then, after what felt like an eternity, he nodded. Just once.
"Okay," he said, his voice low, almost unreadable. "If space is what you need, I’ll give it to you."
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Thank you."
He didn’t move right away.
Instead, he reached out, gently tracing his thumb along my cheek, his touch achingly tender.
"Just don’t expect me to stop caring about you," he murmured. "No matter how far you push me away."
Then he was gone.
And the moment the door clicked shut, I let out a shaky breath, wrapping my arms around myself to keep from breaking.
I had to do this.
Even if it hurt.
The next morning, I walked into Amélie to find a stranger waiting in my office.
He was tall, well-dressed, exuding the kind of confidence that came with money. The kind of man who had never heard no a day in his life.
"Scarlett Lane,” he said, standing when I entered. "A pleasure to finally meet you."
I hesitated. "And you are?"
He smiled. "Nathaniel Cole. I represent The Kingsley Group."
The name sent a prickle of unease down my spine.
Kingsley was a powerhouse in the hospitality world. They owned luxury hotels, fine-dining establishments, and high-end brands.
If they were here, it wasn’t out of the goodness of their hearts.
"What do you want?" I asked, crossing my arms.
Nathaniel’s smile didn’t waver. "We want you."
I frowned. "Excuse me?"
He gestured for me to sit, and after a moment, I did—mostly because I wanted to hear him out.
"We’ve been following the rise of Amélie for quite some time," Nathaniel continued. "You have something special here, Scarlett. A brand. A name. Something that can be bigger than just one restaurant."
I inhaled slowly. "Go on."
He leaned forward slightly. "Kingsley is offering you a partnership. We’ll invest in Amélie, expand its reach, and ensure that no one—no rival, no competitor—can ever bring it down again."
I stiffened. "And what’s the catch?"
Nathaniel’s smile turned knowing. "You’d have to separate your personal and professional life. Kingsley has strict policies about public entanglements, especially with powerful corporate figures."
My stomach twisted.
I knew exactly what he meant.
Christian.
He didn’t say his name, but he didn’t have to.
Nathaniel sat back. "Think about it. With Kingsley behind you, no one—not even your most persistent enemy—can touch you."
I felt lightheaded.
This was everything I wanted. Security. A future. A win.
But at what cost?
Christian had been my anchor through this storm, the one person who stood by me no matter how hard things got.
And I had already pushed him away once.
Could I do it again?
Nathaniel stood, sliding a business card across my desk.
"When you’re ready," he said, "call me."
Then he walked out, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
And for the first time since this nightmare started, I had no idea what to do.
Much later, when I finally returned home, exhaustion weighed heavy on my shoulders.
The day had been long, filled with too many emotions, too many decisions pressing in from all sides.
And yet, despite the late hour, despite the quiet stillness of my apartment, my mind refused to settle.
I didn’t even know why I did it.
Maybe it was denial. Maybe it was the irrational hope that, somehow, the result would change, as if taking another test would rewrite the truth.
I stood in the dimly lit bathroom, the soft hum of the city beyond my window barely audible over the pounding of my heart. I had already done this before.
The first test had been clear—there had been no faint lines, no uncertainty. And yet, I found myself staring at another one now, watching as the unmistakable confirmation appeared once again.
Pregnant.
Of course, it was the same.
I let out a slow breath, gripping the edge of the sink as I tried to process it again. As if it would somehow feel different the second time.
But it didn’t.
It still terrified me.
And yet, beneath the fear, there was something else—something quieter, something warmer.
I ran a hand over my stomach, still flat, still unchanged, but undeniably harboring a life. Christian’s child. Our child.
I thought of my meeting with Nathaniel earlier that day. His offer had been generous, strategic—an opportunity that could have given me security, stability, and a powerful partnership.
And for a brief moment, I had considered it.
Not because I didn’t believe in myself. Not because I didn’t think I could rebuild everything I’d nearly lost.
But because for the first time, my choices weren’t just about me anymore.
But I wasn’t going to take it.
I already had a partner.
Christian.
We had fought together, struggled together, survived together. He had been there for me through every crisis, every setback, refusing to let me fall alone.
And despite everything—the chaos, the sabotage, the uncertainty—he was the one person I trusted completely.
And now, there was this baby. Our baby.
I hadn’t even told him yet.
A pang of guilt twisted in my chest. He deserved to know. This wasn’t something I could—or should—keep from him much longer.
Soon, I thought, inhaling deeply.
Because no matter how much fear lingered at the edges of my mind, one thing was certain.
This wasn’t just my future anymore.
It was ours.
CHRISTIAN
I had her.
The evidence was airtight. Emails. Phone records. Financial transactions.
Victoria had covered her tracks well, but not well enough.
My investigator had connected the dots, proving beyond a doubt that she had been the one sabotaging Scarlett’s business from the start.
And now?
Now, she was about to pay.
I clenched my fists as I stepped into the private lounge of an upscale hotel, where Victoria had agreed to meet me.
She was already seated, sipping a glass of red wine like she didn’t have a single care in the world.
She glanced up as I approached, a slow, knowing smile spreading across her lips.
"Christian Valen,” she purred. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
I sat across from her, barely keeping my anger in check.
"Cut the bullshit, Victoria." I tossed a thick manila folder onto the table between us. "I know everything."
Her expression barely flickered, but I caught the slight tightening around her eyes.
She set her wine glass down carefully, then leaned back, crossing her legs. "Everything, hmm?"
"Emails ordering the placement of the contaminated ingredient in Amélie’s kitchen," I said, my voice ice-cold. "Records of you paying off the health inspector. And my personal favorite—bank transfers to the supplier who conveniently 'lost' Scarlett’s shipment before her biggest event."
I watched her face closely, waiting for the cracks to show.
But instead of fear, Victoria just laughed.
A soft, mocking sound.
"That’s impressive," she admitted, tilting her head. "You really went all out, didn’t you?"
I leaned forward, my jaw tightening.
"You tried to ruin her, Victoria. You came after Scarlett like she was nothing more than an obstacle in your way. And for what? Jealousy? Spite?" I demanded.
Victoria’s gaze darkened, her smile fading.
"She doesn’t deserve what she has," she hissed. "Scarlett Lane is a nobody. She built that restaurant off luck and charm, not real skill. And then you?—"
Her lips curled. "You handed her everything on a silver platter. You think she loves you? She loves what you can do for her."
I slammed my fist against the table, making her jump.
"Scarlett worked for every damn thing she has," I growled. "And the only reason she’s still standing after everything you threw at her is because she’s stronger than you ever gave her credit for."
Victoria’s nostrils flared. "And what do you plan to do, Christian? Take me to court? Ruin my reputation? Be careful, darling. You have just as much to lose as I do."
I smiled, slow and sharp. "Oh, I plan to do worse than ruin your reputation. I have enough evidence to bury you under so many lawsuits, you won’t see the inside of another boardroom for the next decade. And I can assure you, Victoria—you will pay for what you did."
For the first time, true fear flickered across her face.
Good.
I stood, my pulse pounding, satisfied that I’d won this round.
"Stay away from Scarlett," I warned. "Because the next time you cross her, I won’t just settle for legal action."
Then I walked out, leaving Victoria alone with her impending downfall.
Scarlett stormed into my office like a force of nature, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor.
Her eyes, burning with barely restrained fury, locked onto mine the moment she stepped inside, and I braced myself.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded, her voice sharp enough to cut.
I already knew what she was talking about.
I leaned back in my chair, keeping my expression calm. “I assume you mean Victoria.”
Scarlett threw her hands up. “Of course I mean Victoria! You went after her, you confronted her, and you didn’t think I deserved a say in how this was handled?”
I exhaled, rubbing a hand over my jaw. “I thought we were on a break.”
Her lips parted slightly, like she hadn’t expected that answer. “I know I said that but?—”
I stood, closing the distance between us.
“You pushed me away, Scarlett,” I said, my voice low but firm. “I wanted to respect your space. But that didn’t mean I was going to sit back and let Victoria destroy you.”
Scarlett let out a shaky breath, her fists clenched at her sides.
“I still should’ve known, Christian. It’s my business, my reputation. I don’t need you fighting my battles without telling me,” she pointed out.
“I wasn’t trying to take over,” I told her, my voice gentler now. “I was trying to protect you.”
Scarlett pressed her lips together, clearly still irritated, but I could see some of the tension leaving her shoulders.
“Just… tell me what happened,” she said at last, folding her arms.
I motioned to the chair across from my desk. “Sit.”
She hesitated, then sat, crossing her legs. I took my seat as well, clasping my hands together before speaking.
“I confronted Victoria with solid evidence linking her to everything,” I told her. “The sabotage, the health inspection setup, the supplier bribes. She tried to play it cool, but she knows she’s in trouble. I made it clear that if she comes at you again, she’ll face legal action, and she won’t be able to talk her way out of it.”
Scarlett watched me closely, searching my face.
“And you think that’s enough? You think she’s just going to slink away and lick her wounds?” Scarlett asked.
I exhaled. “No. But I do think she won’t make any rash moves. She knows she’s under scrutiny now.”
Scarlett leaned back in the chair, pressing her fingers to her temples.
She was exhausted—I could see it in the way her shoulders slumped slightly, in the way she let her guard down just a little.
She sighed. “I need a minute. Can I use your bathroom?”
“Of course.” I gestured to the private door in the corner of my office.
She stood, smoothing her dress before disappearing inside.
I ran a hand down my face, releasing a slow breath. That could have gone worse.
At least she wasn’t storming out, still fuming. That was something.
Scarlett took her time in there, which I didn’t mind. If she needed space to think, I’d give it to her.
Eventually, the door opened, and she stepped out, looking… different. Softer.
She met my eyes. “I appreciate what you did.”
I nodded, waiting.
Scarlett inhaled, hesitating before saying, “After I pushed you away, I thought… I thought you’d given up on me.”
I stood and closed the space between us, tilting her chin up gently.
“Scarlett,” I said, voice rough with emotion, “I don’t give up on the people I love.”
Her breath caught, and for a second, I thought she might say something—might say the words back.
But then her phone rang.
She startled, glancing down at the screen. “It’s the restaurant,” she murmured.
I nodded. “Go.”
She hesitated, her eyes lingering on mine for a beat longer before she turned and walked out.
I let out a breath, rubbing the back of my neck.
That woman was going to be the death of me.
I turned back to my desk, but out of the corner of my eye, I caught something small sitting on the side table near the bathroom door.
Scarlett’s purse.
She must’ve left it in there.
Shaking my head, I picked it up, intending to call her and let her know.
Hell, maybe I’d just bring it to her. It was an excuse to see her again, even if only for a few minutes.
But then something slipped out and landed on the floor with a soft clink.
I frowned and crouched down, picking it up.
It was a small box.
I turned it over.
And froze.
Pregnancy test kit.
A rush of adrenaline shot through me as I stared at it, my mind blanking for a solid five seconds before logic kicked in.
Maybe it wasn’t hers. Maybe she had bought it for a friend.
But deep down, I knew.
Scarlett was pregnant.
And I had no damn idea how to feel about it.