Chapter 1
1483 Words
Scarlett’s POV
Four Years Later
The front door creaked open.
“That must be him,” my mother said, smoothing the front of her blouse as the front door creaked open.
I didn’t look up.
I was in the kitchen, hovering over a tray of mini desserts, carefully piping the last swirl of cream onto a strawberry tart. The air was thick with the scent of vanilla and butter, comforting, familiar, and distracting.
“Scarlett,” my mother called again, her voice full of that fluttery anticipation she reserved only for important guests. “Come out and greet him.”
I didn’t move.
Whoever Jasmine was parading around this week didn’t concern me. I’d learned to stay out of my sister’s orbit unless invited. And this guy? Whoever he was, he probably wore a watch more expensive than my entire wardrobe.
But then…
I heard the footsteps.
Confident. Steady. Unhurried.
There was something about the sound that made me pause, the piping bag clenched mid-air.
The energy shifted, as if the walls of our home suddenly straightened their posture.
“I told you Carrington men carry themselves like royalty,” my mother whispered, more to herself than to me.
Carrington.
My heart gave a violent thud.
No.
It couldn’t be.
I stepped out of the kitchen, wiping my hands on my apron. Slowly. Carefully.
Then I saw him.
The man stepping through our doorway like the room already belonged to him.
Jasper Carrington.
It felt like the universe played a joke on me.
My body froze, mid-step, but everything inside me turned molten. Four years hadn’t dulled the sharp cut of his cheekbones or the effortless way he moved. Same unreadable eyes. Same expensive restraint in the way he wore his confidence.
He was taller than I remembered.
Colder, too.
He glanced around the room, polite, detached, until his eyes brushed over mine.
And then paused.
It was barely a second, but it hit like lightning.
Recognition.
Buried. Controlled. But there.
Oh God. He remembers.
My chest tightened.
He was supposed to stay online, trapped in news articles, LinkedIn profiles, and the memory of a ruined red velvet cupcake. He wasn’t supposed to walk into my home. He wasn’t supposed to be this real.
“Jasper,” my mother said, practically glowing as she stepped toward him. “It’s such a pleasure. Jasmine’s told us so much.”
Jasmine.
That word stung.
Jasmine and Jasper?
So this wasn’t just some business dinner.
This was him.
The man I embarrassed. The man I tried to apologize to. The one who never looked back.
My sister’s boyfriend.
And now, standing right in front of me, in our living room.
“This is my youngest,” my mother continued with a proud smile. “Scarlett.”
His gaze locked onto mine again. Calm. Controlled.
“Red velvet,” he said, quietly.
It wasn’t a question.
And just like that, the ground tilted beneath me.
I hadn’t expected him to remember that. I didn’t even think he saw me that day.
My mother chuckled, oblivious. “Yes! Scarlett bakes everything from scratch. It’s her little obsession. You’ll have to try something before you leave.”
Jasper gave the faintest nod, his expression unreadable.
He hadn’t smiled.
Not even once.
“You didn’t tell me your boss was coming,” I said under my breath, nudging Edward as he poured himself another glass of wine.
He glanced at me, mildly surprised. “Jasper? I did not know he might drop by.”
“Might,” I repeated, folding my arms. “That’s a long way from waltzing into my parents’ house like he owns the place.”
He chuckled. “That’s just how he is. Doesn’t like confirming things until the last second.”
I didn’t laugh.
Edward, my boyfriend of almost two years, worked under Jasper Carrington at one of the top law firms in the country. I’d heard the name Jasper Carrington long before I ever met Edward. Back then, it was just a headline. A legacy. A man with power I could never touch.
Now he was in my living room.
And four years ago, he’d watched me humiliate myself in the Carrington lobby with a red velvet cupcake in hand.
My heart thudded like it was trying to crawl back in time.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Edward murmured, watching me too closely.
“I’m fine.”
He didn’t believe me. His gaze narrowed, lingering, studying.
Then his phone buzzed in his pocket. His reaction was instant, he flicked the screen to silence without checking the name. Again.
He’d been doing that more often lately.
“You sure you’re fine?” he asked, sliding an arm casually around my waist, as though that settled something.
“Yes,” I lied.
We turned to watch Jasper again. He stood beside Jasmine now, politely aloof as my sister tried to loop her arm through his. He didn’t move away, but he didn’t lean in either. His expression was unreadable. That same detachment from four years ago.
But then…
He glanced my way.
Just for a second.
His eyes caught mine, and held.
Scarlett White, not the flustered girl in the lobby trying to bribe a receptionist with a cupcake.
But maybe that girl still lived in his memory. After all, he’d remembered the red velvet.
Dinner was elegant, as always. Mother had outdone herself with the table setting, silver cutlery gleaming against white linen, crystal glasses sparkling under the chandelier’s glow. The roast chicken smelled divine, but my appetite had vanished somewhere between Jasper’s arrival and Edward’s increasingly polished smile.
“So, Jasper,” Dad said, carving into the chicken with practiced ease, “I hear the papers will be signed before the quarter ends.”
Jasper nodded. “That’s the plan. The lawyers are working out the last details.”
“Smart move, aligning Carrington & Bell with White,” my father added. “Gives your firm more leverage in the Southern districts.”
“Gives your company a stronger name too,” Jasper replied smoothly, and just like that, the unspoken truth was laid bare.
A merger not between equals, but between a legacy and a fading empire.
I reached for my wine glass.
“You didn’t tell me the merger was that close,” I said, keeping my tone light but directing the comment to Edward.
He hesitated with his fork mid-air, then smiled like he always did when sidestepping a real answer. “Didn’t want to jinx it.”
“That’s funny,” I muttered under my breath, “you don’t seem superstitious.”
Edward said nothing, but I felt the tension in his jaw as he resumed eating.
“You’ve met Jasper before, haven’t you, Scarlett?” my mother asked, glancing between us with interest.
My stomach flipped.
Before I could answer, my father cut in.
“She would’ve, if she’d shown more interest in the firm while she was still at Columbia.”
A flush rose to my cheeks.
Jasper didn’t look at me. He didn’t have to. I could feel him listening.
“I chose a different path,” I said, voice quiet but steady. “Doesn’t mean I’m not invested.”
“Maybe not emotionally,” Dad said, chuckling as if it were a harmless joke. “But legally, you still hold 30% shares. So yes, you’re invested, whether you like it or not.”
The air thickened.
Edward reached for my hand under the table. I pulled it away before he made contact.
The silence was short-lived.
“Let’s not talk business over dinner,” Mother said too quickly. “Jasmine, pass the salad, will you?”
But I wasn’t listening anymore.
Thirty percent.
I hadn’t thought about the numbers in a while. Not since graduation. Not since Dad started pushing me to come back and ‘contribute meaningfully’ to the company.
Not since Edward started getting closer to him. And colder to me.
I excused myself to get more wine from the kitchen, just for a breather.
That’s when I heard them. Father and Edward, talking just outside the study.
“She’s been… distant,” Edward was saying, voice low. “But I’ll handle it.”
“Make sure you do,” Dad replied, firmer than I expected. “The merger needs to stay clean. Public. No messy breakups or bad press.”
My heart dropped.
So that was it.
I wasn’t just a daughter. Or a girlfriend.
I was a symbol. A piece of leverage. Something to make this merger look stable and ‘legacy-proof.’
Scarlett White, the loyal daughter.
Scarlett White, the charming accessory.
Scarlett White, soon to be discarded.
I stepped back into the dining room like nothing had happened, but Jasper’s eyes found mine.
He was watching again.
And this time, there was no question in my mind.
- Writer
