Chapter 4

SCARLETT

“Dad.”

Adrian turned slowly, still buttoning his cuff as he faced the doorway of his study. “Lucas.”

Lucas stepped inside, jaw tight, hands shoved into the pockets of his tailored slacks. The tension clung to him like a second skin.

“About what happened at the gala,” he started.

But Adrian cut him off, voice calm but clipped. “She helped us. That journalist helped us. She hurt Vincent’s reputation, and in doing so, she gave me leverage. She’ll be useful.”

Lucas exhaled hard through his nose. “Dad, I wanted to tell you something, but you’re not letting me speak. That journalist is my ex-girlfriend.”

Adrian paused. His fingers stilled at the final button.

“She’s the one?”

Lucas nodded once. “Scarlett Hayes.”

Adrian didn’t respond right away. He poured himself a drink instead—neat, no ice—and took a slow sip, eyes narrowing on the amber liquid like it held the answers.

Lucas stepped forward. “We were together for three years. She was going to move in with me. I was going to propose.”

“Then why is she here?” Adrian asked, tone level.

Lucas faltered.

Adrian tilted his head. “Why is she here, Lucas? Why didn’t you marry her if she meant so much?”

Lucas’s jaw flexed. “I… made a mistake.”

A muscle ticked in Adrian’s jaw, but he stayed silent.

“I slept with someone else,” Lucas admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “It was one time. I was drunk, angry. She found out.”

Adrian didn’t blink. “Let me guess. You slept with her friend.”

Lucas swallowed hard. “Best friend.”

Adrian let out a low chuckle—humorless and cold. “So you burned a good woman and now she’s in my bed.”

Lucas’s eyes flashed. “She’s playing you.”

Adrian raised a brow. “You think I don’t know that?”

Lucas went still.

“I knew she had an angle the second she kissed me,” Adrian said, swirling the drink. “She’s sharp. Calculated. And I like that.”

“Dad, I don't want her close to you, I still love her.” Lucas said.

Adrian downed the rest of his drink and walked past his son, stopping just long enough to add, “You had your chance, Lucas. You lost her.”

“Dad.” Lucas said, his voice shaking. “I made a mistake. I’m not perfect—”

“No, how many times have I warned you not to treat ladies badly?,” Adrian snapped, stepping closer until they were nearly chest to chest. “You cheated on a woman like her and expected her to stay. You don’t deserve her.”

Lucas’s nostrils flared. “And you do?”

Adrian didn’t blink. “I didn’t say that. But I will have her.”

Lucas clenched his fists. “You don’t even know her.”

A ghost of a smile tugged at Adrian’s mouth. “No. But I’m going to. Every inch of her. Every secret, every scar. And unlike you, I won’t waste it.”

Adrian’s eyes flicked to the desk behind him. He grabbed the remote with a chilling efficiency, and the screen on the wall lit up. Lucas’s face drained of color as the video began.

It was from the club—Lucas, drunk and reckless, with a woman on his arm. His hand slid down her waist, his lips pressed to her neck. The camera angle was sharp, showing every moment of his lack of restraint.

“If this gets out, Lucas.” Adrian said and then he paused. “I think the company would be in great hands if you hand it back to me.”

Lucas’s breath hitched. “No… Dad, please don’t—”

“It’s been decided already. This should teach you courtesy,” Adrian said, voice sharp but calm, like a final blow that didn’t need to be shouted. He didn’t wait for a response—just turned on his heel and disappeared into his room, the door closing with a quiet, absolute click.

—

The next morning, the knock was soft, almost polite. The door creaked open and a young maid stepped inside with a tray in her hands and a neatly folded dress over her arm.

“Good morning, ma’am,” she said with a stiff smile. “Mr. Adrian asked us to serve you. This is your outfit for the day. Please change and come downstairs.”

I sat up on the edge of the bed, blinking the sleep from my eyes, trying to recall if last night had really happened—or if my mind was just playing sick games.

A dress?

He was planning something.

“Is that the key?” I asked, nodding to the tray.

She hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Hand me the key. I’ll take a bath and come down.”

She stepped forward, placing the tray down, but then straightened and said quietly, “Mr. Adrian asked me to stay with you until you’re ready.”

I met her eyes. “You don’t have to, I am not his child.”

The maid looked unsure for a second but then gave a small nod and walked out, the door closing behind her.

I didn’t waste a second. I snatched my bag from under the bed—still zipped the way I left it—grabbed the tray, and quietly stepped into the hallway.

But the moment I descended the stairs, I knew I wasn’t getting far.

Two suited men stood near the foyer, arms crossed, like statues that could kill.

Adrian was already there, waiting by the dining table like he’d known I’d try this. Of course he did.

He turned, hands in his pockets, that infuriating calm plastered on his face.

“Going somewhere?” His voice was soft, but laced with steel.

“I’m a journalist, Adrian,” I said, standing straighter. “I have a job. I need to get back to work.”

He walked toward me slowly, every step calculated. “Your work?”

“Yes.”

“I bought that company already,” he said casually. “So now… I’m your boss.”

My heart dropped. “What?”

Adrian’s lips twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Williams now works under me. Which means you do too.”

“You’re lying.”

“Call him. Do it. Right here. Use your phone. To make it more real to you.”

I fumbled for my phone, my fingers suddenly shaking. I dialed William, praying to hear his voice and prove Adrian wrong.

He picked up on the first ring. “Scarlett.”

“William,” I said, keeping my voice steady, “Tell me it’s not true. Tell me Adrian Moretti didn’t buy the company.”

There was a long pause.

Then William sighed. “Scarlett… I tried to fight it. But yes. He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. The company’s his.”

I didn’t speak. Couldn’t. I stared at Adrian, whose eyes never left mine, as if he was reading every flicker of panic inside me.

“I’m sorry,” William said, his voice low. “He’s not someone I can go up against.”

I ended the call, William had used me and now he betrayed me all for money.

Adrian stepped closer, so close I could feel the heat radiating off him.

“I told you,” he murmured, “I don’t like to be challenged.”

“You’re insane.”

“No. I’m obsessed,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering just a moment too long. “With you.”

“Do you even think doing this makes me want you?” I asked, my voice raw.

His eyes darkened. “No. But it means you can’t leave.”

I swallowed, fury and fear warring in my chest. “You think owning my job gives you ownership over me?”

“No,” he said, voice calm but deadly. “But I do own every door you think leads out of this life. You’re not walking out until I let you.”

He reached for my hand and placed a folded paper in it.

“What is this?”

“Your new contract,” he said. “With my company.”

I unfolded it. There was no NDA. No legal threat. Just one clause that stood out:

Assigned directly to Adrian Moretti. Indefinite duration. Direct report. Non-transferable.

“Hell no.”

“I told you,” Adrian said, stepping even closer. “You’re mine now.”

I stared at him. “Is this fun?”

“No, Scarlett. I want you and after last night, I crave more of you.”

I tore the paper in half and threw it to the floor.

Adrian’s gaze didn’t waver. “I expected that. But the next time you try to walk away, there won’t be guards at the door.”

“What does that mean?”

He stepped back, smoothing his cuffs. “It means I won’t stop you. I’ll let you walk into whatever trap Vincent Romano has waiting for you. I won’t save you again.”

I stiffened. “You think you saved me?”

He smiled. “I know I did. You just don’t want to admit you needed to be saved last night.”

“I didn’t ask you to buy my life.”

“No. But you kissed me. You made a move. And in my world, that has consequences.”

“Your world is sick.”