Chapter 162
Damon's POV
Somewhere, at some point in the past, things had changed. Elena was no longer that obedient, taken-for-granted fiancée. She'd become something I'd lost. Something I wanted back but didn't know how to get.
And Scarlett—Scarlett was just... noise. A distraction. A tool I'd used to convince myself I didn't care about Elena.
My silence was the answer.
Scarlett let out a choked sob and stepped back. "God. You really love her."
She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, leaving a streak of black eyeliner.
"But it's too late," she said, her voice suddenly calm, almost cruel. "She's marrying your brother. Your brother, Damon. The whole city knows. You want her, but she chose him."
Something cracked inside my chest.
A wave of rage rushed up my spine.
I crossed the room and grabbed her arm before she could react—not hard, but firm enough to stop her from moving. "Caleb is not my brother. And Elena is not marrying him."
She jerked back, eyes wide. "Let go of me."
I released her immediately, my hands shaking.
"Get out," I said quietly.
Her face crumpled. "You're really going to do this? Just throw me away?"
"I was going to let you keep the apartment," I said. "But I changed my mind."
She gasped.
I walked to the panel by the door and started deleting her biometric data—fingerprints, retinal scan. The system beeped with each deletion.
"You have until tonight to pack your things and leave," I said without looking at her.
"Damon—"
"If you're still here tomorrow, I'll have security remove you."
She stood there, trembling, her hands balled into fists.
I turned away from the panel, ready to leave. But her laughter made me stop in my tracks.
"There's something," she said, her voice suddenly strange—calm, almost detached. "I never told you."
My hand froze on the door handle.
"That day at the ski resort," she continued. "When I fell down the slope."
I turned around slowly.
She stood in the center of the room, arms hanging at her sides, a strange smile on her face.
"Elena didn't push me," she said.
The air was sucked out of the room.
"What?"
"I lied," Scarlett said, enunciating clearly. "I fell on purpose. I wanted you to think she pushed me."
The world tilted. My knees suddenly went weak.
She laughed—that broken, hysterical kind of laugh.
White noise filled my ears.
I saw Elena's face—that look of betrayal when I chose to believe Scarlett over her.
I saw her trying to explain, and me cutting her off.
I saw the moment she gave up, when she realized I would never believe her.
I had destroyed everything.
I stood frozen at the door, my hand slipping off the handle like it had been burned. The words Scarlett had just thrown at me were still echoing in my head, each syllable cutting deeper than the last.
I turned back slowly, my jaw so tight it ached. Scarlett was watching me with this twisted sort of satisfaction, her eyes bright and sharp like she'd just landed a killing blow. And maybe she had.
"That day at the ski resort," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "You threw her out of that hotel room. You didn't even let her explain. You just—" She laughed, that bitter, cruel sound again. "You just humiliated her. And now you think you can waltz back and she'll welcome you with open arms?"
My stomach twisted. I could see it so clearly now—Elena standing in that hallway, her face pale and stricken, her voice shaking as she tried to tell me her side. And I'd cut her off. I'd told her I didn't want to hear it. I'd told her the evidence was right there in front of me, and that was that.
I'd looked at her like she was nothing.
The cold started in my spine and spread outward, numbing my arms, my legs, making my hands tremble. I clenched them into fists, trying to stop it, but it didn't work.
She was right.
That day had been the turning point. That was when Elena stopped looking at me like I was someone worth trusting. That was when she started pulling away, bit by bit, until I couldn't reach her anymore.
And it was my fault.
"You remember the other times, don't you?" Scarlett's voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and relentless. "When you picked her up from campus and then dumped her halfway there because she hated me? Or that engagement party—you left her standing there alone, looking like a complete fool."
She stepped closer, her expression twisted with something I couldn't quite name. Anger? Hurt? Maybe both.
"Every single time, Damon. You chose me. You treated her like she was disposable. Like she was trash you could just kick to the side whenever I showed up."
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. What the hell was I supposed to say?
"No woman forgets that," Scarlett said coldly. "No woman forgives it. You think you can just apologize and she'll come running back? You're delusional."
The words hit me square in the chest, and I couldn't breathe for a second. I'd spent so long convincing myself that Elena was just being dramatic, that she'd get over it, that she'd understand eventually. But the truth was staring me in the face now, ugly and undeniable.
I'd broken something in her. Something I didn't know how to fix.
"Why?" I demanded, my voice hoarse. I needed to know. I needed to understand what the hell had been going through her head this whole time. "Why did you do it? We've been together for so long. So why the fuck did you have to frame her?"