Chapter 4

Scarlett's POV

The black Maybach pulled into Tristan's private estate.

He grabbed my suitcase and opened the front door, his voice calm as if nothing had happened.

"Just like before. Stay here until you cool off."

I stood at the threshold, my hands clenched into fists. "I'm only staying for ten days. After that, I'm leaving New York, and I will never bother you again."

Tristan froze.

"Never bother me again?" He turned around, his eyes dark and unreadable behind his glasses. "Are you sure you can actually do that?"

His words felt like a physical blow to my chest.

He knew.

He had watched me change from a rebellious girl who hated him to a woman who was helplessly in love with him.

He knew how much I loved him.

Yet, knowing that, he kept his "one true love" in his heart while watching me drown in his bed.

My nails dug into my palms.

I looked up, staring straight into his cold eyes. "Did you know Chloe is my stepmother's daughter?"

Tristan slowly loosened his tie.

"I found out recently."

I was silent for a long time. The silence was suffocating, but I couldn't stop myself from asking:

"What is she to you?"

Tristan took off his tie, his movements relaxed. "She was my classmate. Years ago, she saved my life in a car accident. Her health has been fragile ever since, which is why she was recovering abroad."

He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly in a quiet warning. "I know you hate your stepmother. But Chloe has nothing to do with that. Don't take it out on her."

Chloe.

How tenderly he said her name.

A dull ache spread through my chest.

I didn't say another word. I turned, went upstairs, and locked myself in the guest room.

That night, Tristan didn't push my door open. He didn't pin me to the mattress.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling with a bitter smile.

His true love was back. Of course he had no use for me now.

Which was perfect.

I couldn't bear the thought of sleeping with a man who was thinking of another woman anyway. It made me want to throw up.

For the next five days, I actively avoided him.

I only went downstairs after he left for work, and I went to bed before he came home.

We lived under the same roof, but we were like ghosts passing in the dark.

But I was never the type to sit quietly. After five days of isolation, I was going stir-crazy.

On the sixth afternoon, an acquaintance from our social circle called me.

"Scarlett! Where have you been? We're having a party at the club tonight. You coming?"

I was bored out of my mind. "Sure. I'll be there."

At 8:00 PM, I arrived at the club.

I walked down the dimly lit VIP hallway and pushed open the door to the private suite.

I froze.

My friends weren't there.

Tristan was sitting on the leather sofa, holding a glass of red wine. Beside him sat Chloe.

Chloe was leaning in close, whispering something to him with a bright, beautiful smile.

Several of Tristan's wealthy friends were lounging around them.

The moment I opened the door, everyone looked at me.

One of the guys smirked. "Well, look who it is. The wild Miss Vance."

"Sorry. Wrong room," I said, turning to leave.

"Scarlett!" Chloe called out, rushing over to grab my arm. "Where have you been? Your father is worried sick!"

I looked at Tristan. His face was a mask of cold indifference.

He hadn't told Chloe that I was staying at his villa.

Of course he hadn't. If Chloe found out, it would ruin his clean image. He didn't want his precious angel to know how he had been ravishing me in his bed for the past eight months.