Chapter 7 So Desperate for a Kiss?
James was the only member of the Lewis family who ever treated Scarlett with kindness.
John was a drunk, a gambler, and a man whose temper always ended in violence. Natalia was selfish to the core, caring only for herself. At ten years old, James and Scarlett clung to each other in a world that had no mercy for either of them. When they couldn't escape the beatings, James would hold her tight and take the blows alongside her.
That winter night was etched into Scarlett's memory like a scar that would never fade. Snow whipped through the streets, and John had just lost a large sum gambling. He staggered home drunk, his rage boiling over, and turned it on Scarlett as if she were the cause of all his failures.
James heard what was happening. He climbed over the wall of his school in the dark and ran all the way back.
By the time he burst through the door, Scarlett had bitten off one of John's ears in a desperate attempt to save herself. Blood was everywhere—on the walls, the floor, her clothes—and she was barely conscious, her small body crumpled under John's assault.
Without thinking, James lifted her onto his back and ran through the snow to the Brown Mansion, hoping for help.
But the Brown family was away, celebrating Alice's debut violin performance on a cruise ship.
Desperation drove James onward. He carried Scarlett for three hours through the freezing night until he collapsed to his knees outside the Wilson Mansion.
That was the night Scarlett was taken in and given a chance to live.
Fourteen years passed in the blink of an eye.
Back then, James had fought to give Scarlett a future. Now, she would fight just as fiercely to save him.
"Don't panic," she said, her voice steady despite the storm in her chest. "James's condition is stable. Astoria has just opened a specialized research lab for waking coma patients. I want to send James there. And since you've passed Ms. Mae's interview, you'll be going to Astoria too."
"Medical experiments?" Scarlett hesitated.
Ramon nodded. "Mr. Coen Parker runs the program. He's a leading expert in neural science. I promise James won't be worse off than he is now. You're too sharp for me to lie to, Scarlett."
He put on a mock look of fear.
Scarlett's mind flickered back to the day they first met in high school, sheltering under the eaves during a sudden downpour. She'd mistaken him for a pervert who had groped her and slapped him hard across the face, telling him to get lost.
Ramon hadn't explained—he simply walked away into the rain. Only later did she realize her backside had been struck by a broken advertising board swinging in the wind.
The next day, she ran into him again on campus. By sheer coincidence, he was wearing the exact same hoodie she was. She rushed over to apologize, but he stepped back warily, pointing at his hoodie.
"I'm not a creep."
Scarlett flushed at the memory. Even now, her cheeks warmed.
She covered her face. "Ramon, don't bring that up."
He chuckled, a glint of light catching in his eyes behind his glasses.
"By the way, will the treatment be expensive?"
"Relax, it won't cost much. Besides, I'm planning to return to my alma mater for further studies. I might even join the research institute."
"That's wonderful! Ramon, I don't even know how to thank you." Relief flooded Scarlett, her excitement impossible to hide.
James had been unconscious for a year. The longer it went on, the slimmer his chances of waking. Now, at last, there was hope.
"Buy me dinner—something you cook yourself. Once we're in Astoria, we'll be at the same school again. I'll be counting on you."
Ramon glanced sideways at her, his smile as soft as a spring breeze. His alma mater happened to be the same university Vivienne attended.
"No problem." Scarlett's answering smile was bright, full of anticipation for the future.
"Have you decided on your audition piece?"
"My resume hasn't even been approved yet."
"No way they'll reject you. Get ready for the audition—Ms. Mae's tour will be in the country early next month, and they might schedule it then."
Scarlett nodded. Ramon's reasoning made sense.
"I've written a new piece that would make a great dance track. I want to choreograph to it. What do you think?"
"I think it's a great idea."
They were so caught up in conversation they didn't notice the dark sedan parked nearby. Inside, Daniel sat with cold eyes fixed on them through two panes of glass.
The car rolled to a stop outside Sarah's apartment complex. Scarlett reached for her seatbelt, but her coat hem was caught.
"Let me see."
Ramon leaned over, freeing the belt.
"There. All set." His smile was warm, and for a moment they were close enough to feel each other's breath.
Scarlett shifted back quickly, murmured thanks, and stepped out, waving through the window.
"Drive safe, Ramon."
She watched until his car cleared the narrow lane before turning toward the building.
Night had fully fallen. The motion-sensor lights in the stairwell were broken, and Scarlett was reaching for her phone when a sudden force gripped her waist.
She gasped, her back slamming against the wall.
"So cozy with him, aren't you? Is he the next man you've lined up? Idiot. You think he's a good guy?" Daniel's voice was cold enough to cut.
Scarlett recognized him instantly. Her knees weakened, but his hands kept her pinned.
Her pulse hammered as she glared at his shadowed face, anger flaring. She threw the words back at him.
"So what if he is? He's still better than you."
"Better than me? And you let him kiss you? Mrs. Wilson, don't forget—we're still married."
Scarlett froze. He had it all wrong.
She opened her mouth to explain, but his voice sliced through her attempt.
"Can't wait to find someone else, can you? No wonder you had the nerve to seduce me at eighteen."
Her eyes trembled. Blood roared in her ears.
"Yes," she said, forcing the words past the lump in her throat. "So sign the papers before I cheat…"
She didn't finish. His fingers clamped around her jaw.
"Is divorce the only thing you have to say to me?"
Scarlett's lips curved in a bitter smile. "Yes. Why stay shackled to a man who won't even kiss me? So I can stand by and watch you wither into a grumpy old relic?"
The air between them grew heavier. Daniel's grip tilted her chin upward, her neck arching painfully under the strain. The dim light caught on her skin, turning it to silk.
His fingers tightened. Her lips parted involuntarily, like a fish gasping for air.
"You want a kiss that badly? Fine. I'll give you one."
His voice was ice, but his breath burned against her skin.
As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she saw his face drawing closer. Her heart pounded, but tears welled up.
She had once craved his kiss more than anything.
But not like this—not as an act of humiliation.
The sharp crack of a slap echoed in the stairwell. The broken sensor light flickered to life, as if startled into existence.
Daniel's head turned slightly, his lips pressed into a thin, displeased line. His jaw was rigid, the side of his face reddening. Cold anger seemed to radiate from him.
Scarlett's face was pale, her tears spilling freely.
The air felt frozen.
The light went out again, as if even it feared him.
Just when Scarlett thought she would suffocate under the weight of the moment, Daniel released her.
Without a word, he walked away. His tall frame blocked the moonlight, silver edging his shoulders before he vanished into the night.
Only then did Scarlett gasp for breath, her hands shaking as she slid down the wall.
After a moment, she forced herself up and climbed the stairs.
In his car, Daniel lit a cigarette. Smoke curled from his lips as he pressed his tongue against the faint sting in his cheek.
Scarlett had a strong hand.
His eyes lifted to the sixth-floor window, where light had come on. He crushed the cigarette in the ashtray and drove away.
"I thought I saw Daniel's car. Did he bring you back?" Sarah's voice rang out as soon as Scarlett walked in.
Scarlett sat on the couch, tending to the sting in her hand. The memory of the slap made her fingers tremble.
"Don't move, you idiot. I'll do it."
Sarah took the cotton swab from her and began cleaning the mark.
Scarlett smiled faintly. "What would I do without you, Sarah?"
John's violence had often driven Scarlett to hide in Sarah's apartment. Sarah's parents favored her brother, and money was tight, but Sarah always saved food for Scarlett.
The two girls had been bound by hardship since childhood.
They were the same age, but Scarlett had skipped grades and graduated college four years ago. Sarah was still in her third year, renting this place near campus to make it easier to work part-time.
"Burn that into your memory. You're my brilliant beauty, my golden ticket to a cushy life. So work hard and pay me back. And when you dump Daniel, make sure you bleed him dry. Don't let that two-faced bastard walk away without paying a dime."
Scarlett's smile was bitter. If she and Daniel had been a normal couple, she would never have left with nothing.
But she owed the Wilson family too much. In this marriage, she could never lift her head or claim a share of his wealth.
"He won't sign the papers."
"He doesn't want you, but you can't be the one to leave first. Men like him—proud men—are all the same. Daniel's no different."
Sarah shook her head in frustration. Scarlett's gaze dimmed.
She knew Sarah was right.
Daniel wasn't holding on out of love. He was just nursing his wounded pride.