Chapter 115

Scarlett listened quietly, then stared at him for a few seconds before suddenly bursting out laughing.

The laughter sounded jarring in the closed car.

Nothing?

He let Elizabeth walk freely into Long Island Estate, let her drug him and crawl into his bed, let her hire someone to kill, and then found a scapegoat to sweep everything under the rug.

That was his idea of "nothing."

"Brandon, you're a joke." Scarlett turned to look at the neon lights of Phoenix City flickering outside the window. She couldn't even be bothered to spare him another glance.

Brandon's face darkened. He had rarely stooped to explain himself, and this was the attitude he got in return.

Just then, Scarlett's phone buzzed inside her purse.

In the quiet car, the vibration was impossible to ignore.

Scarlett unzipped her bag and took out her phone.

The name "Alex" was flashing on the screen.

She had barely swiped to answer when a large hand shot over and snatched the phone away.

"What are you doing!" Scarlett snapped, lunging for it.

Brandon pinned her against the seat with one hand and hit the end call button with the other.

He stared at the name on the screen as jealousy burned wildly in his eyes.

"You're going to take his call right in front of me?" Brandon's fingers moved quickly across the screen. Right in front of Scarlett, he blocked Alex's number, then tossed the phone back into her lap. "I warned you. Stay away from him."

Scarlett looked at the blocked contact on her screen. All the hurt, anger, and despair she had been holding in for days broke through every last wall she had built.

"Brandon, who gave you the right to control my life!" Scarlett's eyes turned red, her voice trembling with rage. "You cut off my freedom, you cut me off from everyone around me. What do you think I am to you? A dog you keep locked up at Long Island Estate?"

"You're my wife!" Brandon shot back.

"Your wife?" Tears fell from Scarlett's eyes as she stared him down. "What husband covers for the person who killed his own child? What husband stands by and watches his wife get torn apart?"

The air in the car seemed to freeze.

Scarlett's chest heaved, her vision blurred with tears.

She looked at Brandon's handsome but cold face and felt an overwhelming sense of sorrow.

"Three years ago, I was naive enough to think I had married for love." Scarlett's voice was hoarse, every word soaked in pain. "Brandon, I loved you with everything I had. I thought that if I was good enough, obedient enough, I could eventually reach your heart."

When he heard the words "loved you," Brandon went rigid.

It felt like something had slammed into his chest, followed by a rush of elation he couldn't contain.

She had loved him.

The shadows in Brandon's eyes lifted in an instant. He desperately wanted to grab Scarlett's hand, to tell her that he had feelings for her too, that he didn't want to lose her, that he would make everything right.

"Scarlett, I..."

"But I don't anymore."

Scarlett cut him off without mercy, sending his brief moment of joy crashing down.

She pulled away from his reaching hand, her eyes as cold as frost on the ground.

"It started with that spiked drink at the Montague family banquet. Then Stella being lured to the outdoor pool and nearly drowning. Then that dark, back-alley clinic in Shadow City..." Scarlett recounted each suffocating memory one by one. "Every time you looked the other way, every time you took her side, it was like being cut with a knife."

She pressed her hand against her flat stomach, her eyes filled with raw grief. "I paid the highest price for loving you. I lost my child, Brandon. Whatever I felt for you died on that operating table."

Brandon stood frozen, his face drained of color.

Scarlett's words hit him like blades, twisting deep enough to make him feel like he was falling apart.

He saw the finality in her eyes and felt, for the first time, a panic he had no way to control.

"Just let me go." Scarlett leaned against the window and closed her eyes. A single tear slipped down her cheek. "I'm so tired."

The Maybach had just stopped at a red light.

Without another look at him, Scarlett pushed the car door open.

"Scarlett!" Brandon's face went pale with shock. He reached for her and caught only the edge of her sleeve.

Scarlett walked away in her heels, stepping without hesitation into the crowded night streets of Phoenix City.

Cars behind them started honking. The driver glanced nervously in the rearview mirror. "Mr. Robinson, should I..."

Brandon's hands clenched into fists so tight his nails cut into his palms.

He watched Scarlett's slight figure disappear into the crowd, a sharp pain cutting through his chest.

He knew. He had truly broken her this time.

He wanted to talk to her, to explain everything, but the look in her eyes — that bone-deep exhaustion — left him with nothing to say.

"Drive." Brandon's voice was rough and barely audible.

He had to do something. He had always dealt with hard problems the same way: money.

"Thorne's Auctions." Brandon's voice was flat.

There was a high-end jewelry spring auction at Thorne's Auctions that evening.

Brandon paid an outrageous sum and walked away with a rare pink diamond ring, ten carats.

It was a style Scarlett had once lingered on in a magazine.

He told himself that if the gift was expensive enough, if he swallowed his pride and coaxed her a little, she would come around.

Late that night, the Maybach pulled into Long Island Estate.

Brandon gripped the velvet box holding the pink diamond and walked quickly upstairs, pushing open the door to the master bedroom.

"Scarlett."

The room was empty.

There was no trace of her scent. Not even the sound of running water from the bathroom.

Brandon's expression tightened. He turned and went into the walk-in closet.

The few everyday clothes that had belonged to Scarlett and the black suitcase were gone.

The vanity was completely bare. Not a single skincare product remained.

She had left.

Brandon's mind went blank, and a wave of panic swallowed him whole.

He spun around and rushed downstairs, already thinking about sending his security team to find her.

"Stop right there."

A firm voice came from the living room.

Sophia sat on the sofa, one hand resting on a cane, watching him with cool eyes.

"Grandma, where did Scarlett go?" Brandon crossed the room quickly, unable to hide the urgency in his voice.

Sophia looked at the jewelry box he was gripping and let a flicker of contempt show in her eyes.

"Stop looking." Sophia struck her cane against the floor. "Lettie has moved out. I found the place for her, and I had my driver take her there."

Brandon's expression shifted sharply. "She's my wife! How could you just let her do whatever she wants?"

"You're the one who's out of control!" Sophia said sternly. "Do you have any idea how far you pushed her? When she came back today to get her things, she looked completely hollow. Brandon, I'm warning you — Lettie has her own life now, her own career."