Chapter 35: The Betrayal Lurks

Tucker Beaumont sat alone in the darkened study of his mansion, the only light coming from the fireplace that crackled weakly in the corner. His fingers traced the rim of his whiskey glass, but he didn’t drink. His thoughts were too heavy, a gnawing ache in his chest that refused to go away. He had made a decision. He had ruined Scarlet. The woman who once meant everything to him. Yet, as much as he wanted to justify it, the guilt was eating him alive.

The truth lingered in the air, unwelcome and hard to face. He had humiliated her in front of the board, accused her of theft, when she hadn’t done a thing. It wasn’t in her nature. But the pressure his father’s pressure had been unbearable. Wyatt Lockwood, his father, had manipulated him into believing the worst. Had he been playing him all along? The question loomed over him like a storm cloud that refused to break.

Tucker ran his fingers through his dark, tousled hair. The walls of the study felt like they were closing in, and he could hardly breathe. It wasn’t just that he had destroyed Scarlet’s life. He had been used. He had allowed himself to be used. And the weight of that knowledge crushed him.

A soft knock at the door broke his reverie. He turned, irritated at the intrusion, but a part of him welcomed it. Anything to distract him from the crushing guilt.

“Come in.”

The door creaked open, and Michael Richards his uncle stepped inside. Michael’s presence was imposing, his tailored suit sharp, his gray hair immaculately combed. But there was a flicker of concern in his eyes that Tucker hadn’t seen before.

“You look like hell,” Michael remarked dryly, his gaze flicking to the glass in Tucker’s hand. “I hope that’s not just for show.”

Tucker sighed and gestured to the seat across from him. “What do you want, Michael?”

“Wanted to make sure you weren’t losing your mind. Looks like I was right,” Michael said, lowering himself into the chair with a resigned air. He was the kind of man who never wasted words. When he spoke, you listened. “You’re not as hardened as you’d like to believe.”

Tucker’s jaw clenched. “I did what I had to do. For the company.”

Michael leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “Is that what you think? You really believe this is all about the company?”

Tucker swallowed, his fingers tightening around the glass. “Of course it is. That’s what this is about. Keeping Beaumont Constructions intact.”

“Is it, though?” Michael’s voice dropped, his words deliberate. “You’ve been manipulated, Tucker. By your father. He’s been pulling the strings from the beginning, and you’ve been too blind to see it. It’s not just about the company. It’s about control. Power. And now your own father has you wrapped around his finger.”

Tucker’s breath caught in his throat. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying your father’s been playing you. And now he’s using you to destroy Scarlet. He’s using you to destroy everything.” Michael paused, letting the words settle. “You need to wake up, Tucker. Before it’s too late.”

The weight of Michael’s words crashed into him. His mind raced. Had everything he had done, every decision, been part of Wyatt’s plan? Was he just a pawn in his father’s game?

Michael’s voice broke through his thoughts. “You can still fix this. But you need to act fast.”

Tucker stared into the fire, the flickering flames casting shadows over his face. His father, the man he had trusted his entire life, was the architect of his pain. His father had used him and now Scarlet was paying the price.

The night was thick with silence, the air heavy with the weight of unsaid words and emotions. Scarlet lay in her bed, her mind racing as she replayed the events of the day the accusations, the humiliation, the betrayal. Every detail was burned into her memory, replaying over and over again. The pain was almost unbearable. She could still hear Tucker’s words, still feel the icy bitterness in his gaze. How could he have done this to her?

She tossed and turned, her body restless. Sleep wouldn’t come.

She slipped out of bed, her bare feet making little sound on the cool hardwood floor. She needed air, needed space to clear her head. Quietly, she made her way through the dimly lit hallway, trying not to disturb the silence of the house.

But as she rounded the corner, she froze.

There, pacing restlessly in the hallway, was Tucker. His broad frame moved back and forth, his expression distant, lost in thought. His jaw was tight, his brow furrowed, and for a moment, it was as though he hadn’t noticed her standing there.

She could feel her pulse quicken, a mixture of anger and something else something she couldn’t name filling her chest. After everything, how dare he act as though nothing had happened?

But before she could turn away, he spoke.

“Scarlet,” he said softly, his voice rough. “You’re awake.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she replied, her voice quieter than she intended. “What about you?”

Tucker stopped pacing and finally turned to face her. His eyes were dark, his face etched with frustration and something else she couldn’t quite place. “Insomnia,” he muttered. “It’s been keeping me up for days.”

Scarlet’s heart wrenched at the vulnerability in his voice. This wasn’t the man who had accused her of theft. This wasn’t the man who had betrayed her. This was someone who was, in this moment, as broken as she was.

She stepped closer, unable to stop herself. “You should rest,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Tucker let out a bitter laugh. “It’s not that simple. Not when everything feels like it’s falling apart.”

The silence between them stretched, heavy and thick. And then, without thinking, Scarlet reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against his arm. It was a simple touch, but it felt like a spark. He looked down at her hand, his breath catching, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

“I’m sorry,” Tucker said, his voice barely audible. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

Scarlet’s chest tightened, the warmth of his touch sending a shock of longing through her. “But you did,” she whispered. “You hurt me. You hurt us.”

He closed his eyes, as though the words struck him harder than anything else. And in that moment, everything they had lost hung between them, an invisible thread pulling them together.

Tucker stepped closer, and for the briefest second, Scarlet thought he might kiss her. But instead, he just stood there, his face inches from hers, the air between them charged with unspoken words.

The tenderness in the moment was almost too much to bear. “I’ve been a fool,” he whispered. “I thought I was doing the right thing. But now I realize... I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

Scarlet’s hand fell away, and the moment shattered. She stepped back, the distance between them growing.

“I can’t do this right now,” she said, her voice strained. “Not with everything that’s happened.”

Tucker watched her retreat, the weight of his regret settling over him like a suffocating cloud.

The morning light streamed through the blinds, casting soft shadows across the room. Scarlet sat at the small kitchen table, her mind still clouded from the previous night’s confrontation. The weight of everything of what had happened between her and Tucker, of the way he had looked at her with such pain was too much to carry.

Her phone buzzed, snapping her from her thoughts. She glanced at the screen. It was Carla, her lawyer.

“Scarlet,” Carla’s voice crackled through the phone, urgent. “I need you to come in. We’ve found something.”

Scarlet’s heart skipped. “What is it?”

“It’s about the investigation,” Carla said, her tone heavy with significance. “We’ve found a surveillance video. It’s not clear, but it’s enough. Someone planted the evidence against you.”

Scarlet’s breath caught in her throat. “What? Who?”

“We don’t know yet, but we’re looking into it. But you need to come in. We need to talk about what this means.”

Scarlet hung up the phone and rushed out the door, the sudden surge of hope making her pulse race. If this was true, if they could prove her innocence, maybe just maybe there was still a way out of this nightmare.

She arrived at the office in record time, her thoughts a blur as she walked through the cold, sterile halls to Carla’s office. Carla was waiting for her, the same resolute look on her face, but now there was something more a glimmer of hope.

“Sit down,” Carla said, pulling up the footage on her laptop. “Watch this.”

The screen flickered to life, showing a grainy video of the company vault. A figure moved across the screen, their face obscured, but the movement was unmistakable. The figure opened the vault, accessed the files, and planted something a USB drive? The details were unclear, but it was enough to make Scarlet’s heart race.

“Who is it?” Scarlet asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Carla’s gaze flickered between the screen and Scarlet. “We’re still tracking the identity. But this changes everything. Someone inside the company is framing you, Scarlet.”

The weight of the revelation hit her like a tidal wave. She had been right. She wasn’t just the victim of her father’s manipulations someone else had been pulling the strings.