Chapter 11: The Power Struggle

Rising before Tucker's desk, Scarlet smoothed the contract's border between them while her fingers shook. The weight of the paper pressed down on her chest like a stone. Though every moment felt like a quiet fight, they had been married for two weeks. She saw Tucker slumped back in his chair, his eyes hard and calculated, through lowered lashes. Every word he spoke proved his authority; the power he possessed over her was choking. She was only a duty; he did not view her as his wife.

His voice was crisp and lacked any warmth. "You'll obey these guidelines, Scarlet." No deviations. His voice smoothed out no disagreement. Raising his voice was not necessary; his presence alone caused her heart to beat in her chest. You will live under my roof, follow my direction, and do as asked. I just want what is fair. Nothing more is asked from me. Justice? She wanted to find humor in the ridiculousness of it. Tucker knew better than anybody; fairness did not exist in her world. She was nodding silently, though, her eyes fixed on nothing. And if I refuse, she asked, her voice subdued but forceful. Though it barely reached his eyes, Tucker's lips turned into a small smile. "You won't object, Scarlet." Not at all. Right now you are engaged in my game. His voice sank lower, perilously finitely. "And you will lose if you deviate from my guidelines. I will make sure of that. Every nerve in her body yearned to fight against the stifling hold he imposed over her and scream at him, but Scar knew better. She lacked anywhere to go. None other choices. Slipping from her hands, the house held the sole legacy left by her parents. She had to endure Tucker's game if she intended to keep it. Her heart hammering in her chest, she turned to go. She wanted to revolt, tell him she wouldn't be his puppet any more. Unquestionably, though, she had no choice except to go along for now. Days went by, and even if their conflict was always evident, Scar couldn't overlook the minute changes in their relationship. Though little and transient, there were moments. Those times when Tucker's eye stayed just a little too long. Times when his attitude softened, almost undetectably, as though the walls he had erected around his heart were starting to break. One evening, Scarlet spotted him standing by the window staring out at the city lights. Her breath caught in her throat as he stared at her fierce but wary.

She had been stifling herself, trying to ignore the draw between them. She understood it was impossible, though, at that instant when their eyes locked across the room. He broke the quiet by clearing his voice. "You're good at playing the part," he remarked, albeit his tone wasn't as icy as it had been previously. "I didn't expect you to change that fast." Her pulse pounding, Scar turned to face him. "I'm not playing a part," she said, her voice calm in spite of the whirl of inner conflict. "This is right now my life. Whether or if I like it. Tucker answered slowly, his dark and impenetrable eyes. Scarlet briefly considered saying something nasty, something to make her know this was all only a deal to him. But he shocked her instead. More to himself than to her, "I never meant for you to suffer," he said. "You hardly deserved any of this." She shivered down her spine from his vulnerable voice. She wanted to reach out and give him the solace he obviously required, but the barriers he had erected around himself still were too tall. Her own pride also would not allow her to be the one to bring them down. She murmured gently, attempting to keep the gloom out of her voice: "I'm not the one who's suffering, Tucker." Each of us is. There was a lengthy silence. Then he turned back into the cool, analytical version of herself she was accustomed to, as if the event had never been. "Don't let your feelings interfere," he added sharply. "We have task ahead of us."

The debate had begun over something minor, something pointless in the big picture. Still, the strain grew as the words flew between them. Scarlet sensed the heat rising in her chest and her irritation mounting to a breaking point. Too much was Tucker's coldness and his total disrespect of her emotions. She was not going to back off and absorb it any longer. "You believe you can run me, don't you?” She spit, her eyes ablaze with rage. "That you can keep me in this cage you've made and I'll just comply like some compliant little wife." Tucker moved forward, his eyes narrowing to capture her flaming attitude. His lips closed into a chilly smile, but his eyes seemed to be searching for something else she couldn quite identify. His voice low and menacing, he added, "You're not as easy to manage as I imagined." He was right there, his body inches from hers, the space between them buzzing with tension before she could reply. Scarlet's breath stopped and for a moment neither of them spoke. Standing there, staring at each other, both reluctant to back down, the room seemed to shrink. Then Tucker abruptly reached out and grabbed her by the arms, dragging her toward him.

The kiss that came next was strong, loaded with pent-up passion and resentment. This was raw, a clash of emotions neither of them had been ready for, not at all like the gentle, sweet times they had spent together. Scarlet's brain flew. She wanted to shove him away, scream at him for what he had done to her, for the existence he had imprisoned her in. But at that instant, the bitterness vanished and was replaced with an irresistible need she could not suppress. Her hands grabbing his shirt, she kissed him back, drawing him in. Breathless and startled, the kiss stopped as abruptly as it had begun. Tucker retreated, his chest rising and sinking as he fixed dark, conflicted eyes on her. He hissed, his voice harsh and low, "this alters everything." But before Scar could reply, he turned away, leaving her standing there pulse pumping, not sure where their twisted game between them would lead.