Scarlett’s POV
I knew he would come.
Maybe not that day. Maybe not the next. But eventually, Jasper Carrington always circled back, to control, to guilt, to the things he thought he could bend with apologies wrapped in Armani suits.
But I wasn’t that Scarlett anymore.
Not the woman who begged with her eyes.
Not the one who clung to promises he never intended to keep.
No, the woman standing in the foyer when he finally showed up again, under the guise of “checking in”, was colder. Sharper. And far more dangerous.
“I thought you had meetings,” I said, arms folded, tone flat.
He took two steps in, eyes searching mine. “I canceled them.”
“Oh.” I tilted my head. “Must’ve been urgent.”
Silence.
Just that tension again, thick and electric, dancing in the air between us like a memory ne
