Scarlett’s POV
Just when I thought we’d found our footing again, life reminded me that peace is never permanent, not in this house. Not in my story.
The next morning, I woke up tangled in expensive sheets and the scent of Jasper’s cologne still lingering in the air.
He was already gone. His side of the bed still warm.
And strangely, for once… I didn’t panic.
Last night hadn’t been perfect. But it was real. It was raw. And in a world of pretenses and curated perfection, that felt like enough, for now.
I got up, wrapped myself in his robe, padded over to the window, and stared at the city skyline.
It looked peaceful. Deceptively peaceful.
I should’ve known better.
I’d just stepped into the shower when my phone buzzed, violently. Not a single message, but dozens. Calls. Notifications
