Chapter 24: Full of desperation

Scarlet, you disappeared. No explanation. Not a farewell. Just vanished like a thief in the night.” “I had my reasons.” “Oh, I’m sure you did.” His voice was silk over steel. “And I’m sure they were noble and self-sacrificing. Weren’t they always with you? ” She looked away, biting the inside of her cheek. He leaned forward now, hands clasped. “Tell me what you want.” “My house,” she whispered gently. “The bank’s seizing it. I need the debt written off. “And you thought I’d be your savior? ” “No. I thought you’d be the only person powerful enough to fix it.” Tucker chuckled again, but there was no amusement in it. “You’re in debt. Deep debt. And you want me to act as hero? "I am not seeking for charity." “Then what are you offering? ” Scarlet matched his gaze. “A deal.” Tucker’s gaze narrowed. He stood slowly, walked toward the window, hands in his pockets. “You always did have a flair for dramatics.” She stayed sat, heart thudding. “What type of deal? ” he asked without turning. “I’ll give you what you need,” she said. "A wife". His quiet sounded like a thunderclap. "You have to be married before your next birthday," Scar said, voice more pointed now. Public knowledge is what we know.

Wyatt’s clause in the inheritance contract. You don’t married by thirty-three, you lose Beaumont Constructions.” He turned then, languidly, eyes invisible. "Who informed you that?" ” “You’re not the only one who knows how to dig,” she said. “You need a wife. I have to have a roof. Mutual convenience is what it is. Tucker slowly and deliberately turned back toward her. “You’re offering yourself. As my wife.” Scarlet stood now, facing him. “One year. No complications. You clear my debts, and I’ll play the role. Public appearances, family events, whatever you need. Then we part ways. Clean slate.” “You think I’d want you back in my life? ” “No,” she said. “I think you want control. And I think you hate your father more than you hate me.” Tucker's jaw bent. “You’re right.” Scarlet blinked. “I do loathe my father. But not more than I hate betrayal.” “I didn’t betray you.” “You abandoned me.” "I had nothing to choose from." “There’s always a choice.” They stood in silence, breath thick between them.

Then, Tucker leaned in, so close she could smell his cologne something dark and spiced and expensive. “You want me to save your house? ” “Yes.” "then you will wed me. Still not for a year, though. She paused. “How long then? ” “Until I say it’s over.” Her heartbeat skipped. “That’s not the deal ” “It is now.” Scarlet stared up at him. “You’d use this to punish me.” He smiled faintly. Definitely. "Fine," she said, her voice low. "There are conditions, though." "I set the conditions," he said. " You simply follow them." She shook her head. “No intimacy. No real marriage. Just a performance.” His eyes flashed. “We’ll see.” “No,” she said firmly. “Those are my terms.” Tucker stepped back, folding his arms. “And if I say no? ” And you lose your empire then. He shook his head and laughed quietly. "You constantly performed filthy play." “Learned from the best.” A beat passed. Then he extended a hand. “Deal.” Scarlet stared at it. Her throat felt dry. Her heart, a battle drum. She took his hand. And sealed her fate. The next morning was pallid with rain.

Thin streaks of mist clung to the towering glass windows of Tucker Beaumont’s private legal office, sitting high on the twenty-third level of the east wing at The Beaumont Tower.

The city lay beneath like a mute spectator, oblivious that inside this room, two individuals were bound themselves with chains clothed in silk. Her heels thumping against the obsidian tile floor, Scarlet Langston passed through the frosted glass doors. The air smelled of rich mahogany wood and chilly ink, mixing with the strain pulsing between her shoulder blades. Her eyes were dry, unbroken although her coat was moist from the drizzle outside. Tucker was already sitting at the head of the long table cool, collected, deadly in his fitted navy suit. A faint silver tie hung like a razor from his throat. Ahead of him was a file open.

He carefully and gently wrote a signature over the last page. Across from him stood Carlton Beck, a lawyer balding, lean, spectaceled man whose eyes flicked between them like a terrified referee. Tucker said, shutting the file, "there." "The contract is completed." Scarlet stayed still. Carlton said he cleared his throat. "Miss Langston, legally binding upon signature are the terms of the marriage agreement. Clause one length unknown. Clause two 100% confidence of confidentiality. Clause three minimum six events every quarter public appearance requirements. Clause four living conditions to start right away. "I have read it," Scar replied. "And clause five," Carlton said softly, "stipulates that the property debt would not be fulfilled should either party breach the agreement." Scarlet looked at Tucker. You let the house sink under if I go. Tucker remarked, voice like steel wrapped in velvet, precisely. Of course you would turn it into a trap. "I dropped you here," he said. You came willingly. She sat down gently, her spine straight in spite of the tightness around her ribs. She could sense the attorney staring at her, gaze fixed on the area where weakness threatened to manifest. But Scarlet didn’t flinch.

She dug inside her purse instead and grabbed a pen. She poised it above the signature line, and the quiet in the room thickened. That moment felt more weight than ink and more sharp than the edge of a sword. Her hand shook, only faintly, but it was enough to cause Tucker's lips to curl. "Cold feet? "He enquired." She mumbled "Cold hands," then signed. Scarlet Langston, her name, flowed across the page like a subdued surrender. An agreement with the devil spun in bridal lace. "Congratulations," Carlton replied with a strange air. You are lawfully married right now. Tucker hardly even looked at her. He just stood, slapped the file closed, and reached out his hand to Carlton. Send the papers right away to my legal archive. And wipe off the rest of my day. Surely, sir. Carlton went, and the space contracted silently. Scarlet stood too, momentarily steadying herself by grabbing the edge of the table. On the page, the signature felt like a cord stranding her throat. Tucker passed her, opened the door, then turned to check his shoulder. Come. "where?" „ "Home.” The trip to Tucker's estate was very silent. Scarlet watched the rain run down the window like tear lines from the rear of the black Maybach, her body pressed to the farthest edge of the leather seat. Sitting next her, Tucker seemed to have not just rebuilt their life in ink as he was surfing emails on his phone. "This is how you imagined it? Finally, she asked. He turned not to look up. "Which component? „ "Dragging your ex into a contract marriage to gain a fortune." "I need not the fortune," he answered. "I am in need of leverage." She turned fully now to face him.

Using whom as leverage? Me as well. Your father? everyone. Then the mansion emerged, towering at the edge of the private land like something out of a Gothic painting big, chilly, and absolutely massive. As the car drew in, iron gates opened to expose well kept grounds, marble fountains, and a circular driveway paved with black-stone pavers. Scarlet left first, eyes gliding over the building. It did not constitute a house. That was a comment. Every carved column and glass-paneled wall had a declaration of power incorporated into it. With his presence as cold as the wind that met them, Tucker trailed after her carrying a briefcase. Inside, the house intimidated me more. High ceilings, velvet and steel accent pieces, modern art on every wall. Under soft lighting, the floor sparkled; silence ruled like a jealous queen. From a corridor tall, elegant, mid-forties, a woman approached wearing black with a silver brooch at her collar. Estelle, Tucker said, "this is Estelle." "House manager," Estelle slightly bowed. "Hi Mrs. Beaumont. Welcome." That name seemed to weigh down like an unwelcome crown on her head. “Your room is prepared,” Estelle continued. “Shall I show you? “My room? ” Scarlet asked. Tucker’s voice was razor-sharp behind her. You will remain in the southern wing. Until more notification is needed.

She whirled slowly. Separate wings, now? “This is a business arrangement,” he said evenly. Not pretend differently, let me say. Scarlet nodded, jaw clenched. “Of course. Would not want to mix your affection with your power moves. Tucker lowered his voice and moved closer. "Affection is deadly." And I have already survived you once. She gave no flinches. “Then let’s make sure this deal kills us both cleanly.” Eyes locked like adversaries bound by fire, they fixed each other. Neither progressed. Neither person blinked. Tucker then turned aside and vanished into his studies. Scarlet followed Estelle along a corridor that lasted forever, each footfall ringing like a verdict. Estelle opened a heavy door showing a big chamber white marble flooring, a large four-poster bed covered in silk, a walk-in closet the size of Scarlett's old kitchen when they at last arrived to the south wing. Feeling totally displaced, she stood at the threshold.

Will there be anything else, madam? Estelle inquired softly. Scarlet nodded in opposition. Estelle vanished softly. Scarlet moved carefully, brushing her fingers over the bed's edge. Fresh linens made from precisely prepared lavender smelled like this. The place shined like riches, like distance, like ice, everything. She sat down on the bed, breathed, and buried her face in her hands. The contract had been signed. The house would be saved. But at what cost? There was a door clicking behind her.

She gazed upward. Tucker stood there, eyes invisible, the corridor light casting backlit shadows. He remarked, placing a silver card on the nightstand, "I forgot to give you this." “Credit. Apply it for whatever you need. She nodded very gently. And what name do I now use for you? Wife? Lady? Warder? 'He raised a cheek. "whatever gives the cage less claustrophobic feel". And then he vanished. Long after the door closed, scarlet sat there. She did not cry. She just reached for the silver card and held it in her palm like a curse wrapped in platinum. And somewhere deep inside her, a promise started to grow not to live this marriage. But to untangle every link he believed he had locked her in