Chapter 123
Damon's POV
I bolted into the nearest stairwell, my hands shaking so badly I nearly dropped the phone. The metal door slammed shut behind me, cutting off the hotel's polished silence. My thumb hovered over Scarlett's name for half a second before I hit dial.
Pick up. Pick up.
The line connected. Wind roared through the speaker, sharp and piercing, drowning out everything except her ragged breathing. Then came the unmistakable hitch—she was crying.
"Scarlett—"
"I can't do this." Her voice shattered on the words. "I can't watch you marry her. I can't—Damon—"
"Where are you? Tell me where you are right now."
"Does it even matter?" She laughed, bitter and broken. "You're down there in your fancy suit, and I'm up here, and—God, the wind is so strong. So strong."
The image hit me like a punch to the chest: Scarlett standing on a ledge somewhere. I gripped the stair railing, knuckles white.
"Don't," my voice came out hoarse. "Whatever you're thinking, don't. We can figure this out. I'll—I'll give you anything. Jewelry, clothes. Whatever you want—"
"I don't want your money." Her voice trembled.
"You know, after my dad went to prison, everyone looked at me like I was trash. Everyone. Except you."
"You were the only one who was kind to me," she continued, her voice softer now. "And now you're going to stand up there and tell everyone she's the one you chose. How am I supposed to—" She broke off, a choked sob cutting through the line.
"I'm not choosing anyone," I said, desperation bleeding into every syllable. "This is just—it's for show. You know that."
"Do I?" Her laugh was sharp enough to cut. "Your parents—they can't accept me because of who my father was. But you think they'll just let you back out later?"
The words landed like stones in my gut. She was right. She was right, and I hated that she was right.
"Your family's already made the announcement," she went on, voice rising. "Everyone knows. The whole city knows you're marrying her. So what about me? What am I supposed to be—your dirty little secret? The girl on the side while you play house with your perfect bride?"
"That's not—"
"Then why won't you leave with me?"
Silence.
I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.
"We could go," she said, quieter now, almost pleading. "Right now. Just get in the car and drive. Leave Saint-Helier. Leave all of this behind. Start over somewhere they can't reach us."
Leave. Give up the inheritance. Give up everything my family had built. Give up everything I was supposed to be.
I couldn't speak.
The wind howled louder.
"I knew it," Scarlett whispered. "You were the best thing that ever happened to me, Damon. I mean that. You made me feel like I mattered. Like I wasn't just... trash from the wrong side of the city." Her voice wavered. "But you should forget about me now. You should—"
"Scarlett, wait—"
"I'm sorry I bothered you." The wind surged, louder, closer. Like she'd moved toward the edge.
"Wait—wait—don't hang up—"
"I'm coming to get you!" The words tore out of me before I could think. "Don't move. I'm coming right now. Right now."
A pause. Then: "You're lying."
"I'm not. I swear, I'm not lying."
"You're about to get engaged." Her voice wavered between hope and disbelief. "You can't just—"
"I'm not going through with it."
The silence stretched so long I thought she'd hung up. Then, barely audible: "You mean that?"
"I'll prove it," I said, already moving toward the door. "Turn on video call. Watch me get in the car. Watch me drive. I'll come to you."
Another pause. "Two minutes."
"What?"
"Two minutes," she repeated, firmer now. "I want to see you in the car in two minutes. If you're not—if you don't—"
She didn't finish. She didn't have to.
"I will," I said. "Just—don't move."
I hung up and ran.
---
Elena's POV
The banquet hall felt like a stage set—all cream silk and white roses, soft lighting designed to make everything look like a dream. I stood near the entrance, staring at the ornate doors, my mind still caught on Damon's abrupt exit.
I told myself it didn't matter. Whatever crisis Scarlett had manufactured this time wasn't my concern. I was here to smile, to nod, to let photographers capture proof that the Cross and Vance families were united. That was the job. That was all.
Within minutes, Lila arrived. The moment she walked in and saw me, her face lit up. "Elena, you look absolutely stunning today."
I gave my first real smile of the day. I pulled her down to sit beside me. "I thought you weren't coming."
She sighed. "I went back and forth on it forever. But then I realized—this is your engagement party. How could I miss it?"
I squeezed her hand, my throat tightening too much to speak.
"I just saw Caleb downstairs."
I blinked. "What?"
"In the main lobby. Hector said Randy personally invited him." She hesitated. "They're saying he did it on purpose. To make a point."
My stomach dropped.
Of course. Of course Randy would do that—he knew about my unusual relationship with Caleb. He planned to make Caleb stand there and watch me become Damon's fiancée. A calculated move.
"Elena?" Lila's voice softened. "Are you okay?"
I forced myself to unclench my fists. "I'm fine. Is everything ready?"
"The ceremony coordinator wanted to take some pre-shoot photos. You and Damon together." She paused. "Where is Damon?"
I glanced at my phone. Twenty-five minutes since he'd left.
I dialed his number. Call in progress.
I tried again. Same result.
"He must be handling something," I said, my voice flat. "I'll go find him."
I left Lila in the dressing room and walked into the empty corridor, my heels clicking against marble. The hotel was too quiet, the kind of quiet that felt wrong. I pushed open the stairwell door and climbed two floors, then descended one, but the echoing space was deserted.
Something cold settled in my chest.