CHAPTER 6

SCARLET

The ink on the contract had barely dried up, but I felt like I had made the greatest mistake in my entire life. I stared at my signature at the bottom of the page ‘Scarlet Lawson’, feeling like I had just signed away my soul.

"Good job," Julian said. His voice didn't have a hint of warmth and it sounded like a judge delivering a life sentence. He didn't smile, but his eyes glinted with a cold, terrifying satisfaction.

Cameron, his lawyer, closed his briefcase with a sharp snap. "Everything is legal and binding. One year, Scarlet. You have to play the perfect, obedient wife, and Julian handles your father's medical bills."

"I know the deal," I whispered, my voice cracking slightly. My chest felt tight, the pain of my stepmother's betrayal still burning in my throat. I had sacrificed everything for them, and they had sold me out like a piece of property.

Julian didn't care about my heartbreak. He didn't even look at me as he checked his cufflinks.

"Our first public appearance is tonight," he said coldly, his words clipping through the air like shears clipping through grass.

My head snapped up. "Tonight? But I don't even know what to do. I don't know the people, I don't know your world…"

“…You will learn," Julian interrupted. He finally turned his gaze to me, freezing me in place. "My mother will be watching your every move. If you slip up, if you show even a second of hesitation, we both lose. And if I lose, your father's treatment ends. Do you understand?"

I swallowed the lump of fear in my throat and nodded. "Yes."

"Good." Julian walked toward the door of the penthouse and opened it. A young woman in a black suit was waiting at the far end of the living room. She was carrying a tablet in one hand and a bag in the other. "This is Chloe. Your new assistant."

Chloe stepped into the room, bowing her head slightly. "Good morning, Mrs. Cross. It's a pleasure to work with you."

"Chloe knows the playbook," Julian stated, his voice completely devoid of emotion. "She will give you the names, the faces, and the history of everyone attending tonight. She will fix your clothes, your hair, and your posture. By eight o'clock, you will look, speak, and act like the perfect Vivian Lawson I married."

He stepped closer to me, his tall frame completely blocking out the light from the window. The scent of expensive cologne and woodsmoke washed over me, but it brought no comfort. It felt like being caged by a predator. 

He reached out with his long fingers grabbing my chin and tilting my face up harshly so I had no choice but to look into his empty, dark eyes.

"Be ready, Scarlet," he whispered, his breath ghosting over my lips. "There will be cameras everywhere. Don't make me regret saving a worthless life."

He released my chin with a rough flick of his wrist and walked out of the penthouse without looking back. The door closed with a heavy thud.

"We have exactly seven hours, ma'am," Chloe said, her voice snapping me out of my trance. She laid the garment bag across the back of the sofa and opened her tablet. "We need to memorize thirty-two guests, study the seating chart, and get you fitted for your dress. Please, sit down."

I sank into the plush leather sofa, my hands trembling as Chloe handed me the iPad filled with faces of strangers. 

The next seven hours were a mixture of names, faces, and agonizing physical adjustments. Chloe was efficient, but she was as relentless as a drill sergeant.

"This is Arthur Sterling," Chloe said, tapping a picture of an older man with sharp grey eyes. "He is Julian’s biggest investor. Smile warmly, but do not speak unless he addresses you first. And this is Victoria Cross, Julian’s aunt."

I stared at the image of the elegant, stern-faced woman. Her eyes looked right through the screen. My stomach twisted into a tight knot.

"She will look for any sign that you don't belong with the family," Chloe warned gently, though her eyes remained glued to her tablet. "Keep your shoulders back. Stand up straight, please."

For hours, I memorized family trees and rivalries. Every time my posture slumped, Chloe would cough lightly, and I would force my spine straight again. My mind was exhausted, but my body suffered even more.

By five o'clock, a team of stylists arrived. They brushed my hair so hard my scalp stung, and they applied layers of makeup until my face felt like I wore a mask. 

Finally, it was time for the dress.

It was a stunning, pink silk gown. It fit my body perfectly, hugging every curve, but it felt like a beautiful suit of armor. I looked in the full-length mirror and barely recognized the woman staring back at me. 

Scarlet Lawson, the girl who wore faded jeans and oversized sweaters to the hospital, was gone. In her place stood a stranger.

"Mr. Cross has arrived," Chloe announced, looking at her phone. "It's time."

My heart hammered against my ribs as I walked out to the living room. Julian was waiting by the door. He wore a perfectly tailored black tuxedo. He looked impossibly handsome, but his expression was as cold as ice.

He looked me up and down. For a split second, his dark eyes lingered on my face, but his expression didn't soften.

"Acceptable," he said curtly. He offered his arm to me. "Remember your training, Scarlet. If anyone asks about our quick marriage, it was love at first sight. Do not let them see you sweat."

I placed my trembling hand on his forearm. His muscles were like granite beneath the expensive fabric. "I won't fail," I whispered, trying to convince myself more than him.

The ride in the car was completely silent. The tension in the car was so thick it was hard to breathe. Julian stared out the window, completely ignoring my presence, while I repeated the guest names like a prayer in my head.

When the car finally pulled up to the grand entrance of the hotel, the flashing lights hit the tinted windows. I could hear the muffled shouts of reporters and the clicking of a hundred cameras. 

Panic flared up in my chest. I couldn't do this. I was going to throw up.

Julian turned his head to look at me. He saw my terror, but instead of offering comfort, his grip on my hand tightened painfully.

"Smile, Scarlet," he commanded in a low, dangerous whisper. "The show just began."

The chauffeur opened the door and the roar of the crowd washed over us, and Julian stepped out, pulling me into the blinding light.