13 - I am Getting Married
Scarlett barely remembered the cab ride over.
The streets blurred past the window, her reflection dim against the city lights—tired eyes, tight jaw, too many emotions packed into too little space.
When she finally stepped into Linda's apartment, the familiar warmth hit her like a wave: cinnamon and vanilla, the soft glow of fairy lights, the cozy clutter of books and blankets. It felt like safety.
Linda was already waiting, two mugs of hot chocolate steaming on the coffee table. She took one look at Scarlett's face and frowned.
"Okay," she said, motioning to the couch. "Sit. Talk. What's going on?"
Scarlett sat, pulled her knees up beneath her, but didn't touch her drink. The words were heavy in her throat, but there was no point dragging it out.
"I'm getting married," she said quietly.
Linda blinked, like she hadn't heard right. "Wait—what?"
Scarlett looked at her. "I'm getting married."
Linda stared for a moment longer, then set her mug down slowly. "To... whom?"
Scarlett took a breath. "Ethan Blackwood."
The name dropped between them like a stone into water.
Linda's eyes widened. "Ethan who?"
"Ethan Blackwood," Scarlett repeated. "The CEO of Blackwood Ventures."
Linda made a strangled sound and leaned forward. "The Ethan Blackwood? That finance shark from all the magazines? Suits worth more than my rent? That guy?"
Scarlett gave a weary nod.
Linda's mouth opened, closed, then opened again. "Scarlett. Are you serious right now?"
"Yes."
A long silence stretched between them, until Linda finally said, "Why? I mean—how? You've never even mentioned a boyfriend, and now you're marrying one of the richest men in the city?"
Scarlett looked down at her hands. "Because I have no choice."
Linda's voice softened instantly. "Talk to me."
Scarlett took a breath, steadying herself. "My dad's company is failing. There's debt—serious debt. Investors are pulling out. And he's sick, Linda. He's been hiding it for a while, but... it's bad. The stress is making everything worse."
Linda's expression shifted into concern, her earlier shock replaced by growing understanding.
"Ethan's company stepped in to help," Scarlett continued.
"Financial support, restructuring, the whole deal.
But there was a condition." She hesitated, choosing her words carefully.
"Our families have known each other a long time.
This... this marriage was something they both agreed on. A merger, of sorts."
Linda sat back slowly, absorbing it all. "So your dad gets to keep the company, and Ethan gets... what, a wife with a great wardrobe?"
Scarlett gave a hollow laugh. "He gets control over a key industry sector. And I get to keep my father's legacy from collapsing."
"Jesus," Linda whispered.
Scarlett reached for her mug, warming her hands around it. "I know how it sounds. But I couldn't say no. I couldn't watch my dad lose everything—not when there was a way to stop it."
Linda was quiet for a moment, then said, "But what about you, Scar? What do you get?"
Scarlett met her gaze, eyes rimmed with exhaustion. "A cage with a view."
Linda blinked at the bleakness in her tone. "Do you love him?"
Scarlett hesitated. "No. I don't even know if I can love him. He's... distant. Everything with Ethan feels calculated, deliberate. It's like being in a room with someone who's always two steps ahead of you and never tells you why."
"Why would he agree to this?" Linda asked. "I mean—he doesn't need to marry anyone. He's practically royalty in the corporate world."
"I think," Scarlett said slowly, "he wants the image. Stability. Influence in old money circles. My family name still carries weight, and the press will eat it up. To him, it's strategy."
Linda shook her head, still trying to wrap her brain around it. "This is insane."
Scarlett offered a half-smile. "You're telling me."
Another silence fell. Then, without missing a beat, Linda said, "Okay. Then it's time we fight back."
Scarlett blinked. "What?"
Linda's grin returned, mischievous and defiant. "You're marrying an empire. Fine. But that doesn't mean you give up yours. You have talent, Scar. Designs that people would kill to wear. And I've been working on something."
Scarlett blinked again, confusion flickering into curiosity. "What are you talking about?"
Linda leaned forward, excitement bubbling in her voice.
"Alex—remember him? Blue hair, fixed your laptop?
He built us a website. Fully functional, ready to go.
We can start selling your designs online.
And I found us a couple of small studio spaces.
Just enough to get started. No press, no investors, no husbands. Just us."
Scarlett froze. "Linda—are you serious?"
Linda squeezed her hand. "Dead serious. You might have to marry into Blackwood, but you don't have to disappear into it. You still get to be you."
For the first time that night, Scarlett felt her breath catch—this time not from panic, but from something softer. Something like hope.
"I'm in," she whispered.
Linda grinned wide. "Good. Let's take back your story."