In the year our love was at its purest, she took three cuts for me. One across her eyebrow, one on her ankle, one down her back. Everyone said Scarlett loved me more than life itself. Until another man showed up, bold and brazen. "You're Nick Waner, right?" he sneered, throwing a stack of photos in my face. "Scarlett doesn't love you anymore. I'd advise you to be smart about this and get lost." In the photos, Scarlett's eyes were soft, her expression tender. I watched the rain begin to fall harder, and with a flick of my wrist, the man’s scream was swallowed by the storm as he was thrown out, his final words hanging in the air. "Scarlett won't let you get away with this!" But I just sat there, my gaze cold, as I faced Scarlett across the table. She was here to demand justice for him. "Sign it," I said, pushing the papers toward her. "I find you… repulsive." 1 "Nick!" Scarlett sat across from me, flanked by the lieutenants she had spent the last two years promoting. A dozen of her men surrounded us in my spacious living room. It felt less like a negotiation and more like an ambush. I watched her tap a finger on the table, her anger barely contained. "He's still in the ICU." She raised an eyebrow. The light caught the scar there, making it stand out in sharp relief. "He's innocent," she said, her voice low and menacing. "He's only twenty, Nick. Twenty years old, and you nearly killed him. Do you know what the doctors told me?" "They said he might never walk like a normal person again." Her voice blended with the rhythmic drumming of the rain against the window. I remembered the man, gasping for breath but still managing to shout, "Scarlett won't let you get away with this!" "So," I said, meeting her furious gaze as I handed my teacup to a servant, "you've brought your whole army here to, what, get revenge for him?" I chuckled, amused. "What's it going to be? Half my life? Or are you going to break one of my legs to make up for the fact that he can't walk?" I smiled and pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders. The butler immediately adjusted the room's temperature. I looked at Scarlett. "Who the hell is he, anyway, that you would come here to confront me? Scarlett, have you forgotten who's been by your side all these years? It was me, not him. Are you planning to turn on me for him, or are you here to take my life today?" My voice was calm, unhurried. The butler, ever-vigilant, instantly drew a pistol and aimed it at her head. Her men tensed, but Scarlett just laughed along with me. "Nick, the days of bloodshed are over. I don't want to fight you," she said, pushing aside the divorce papers I had prepared. "A divorce would be messy and painful. I won't do it. But you will go to him and apologize. Personally. Or don't blame me for what happens next." She rose from the sofa, walked over to the butler, and grabbed his wrist, pressing the barrel of the gun to her own forehead. "Shoot me?" she challenged. "Are you even worthy?" With a sharp twist, she dislocated his wrist. A sickening crack echoed through the room. At the same moment, a loud bang erupted from one of her men. My hand shot out, and the fruit knife from the table embedded itself in the man's thigh. I met Scarlett’s incredulous stare and smiled. "Scarlett, my people don't fight back against you out of respect for me. But that doesn't mean," I said, walking over and taking her hand, slowly prying her fingers from my butler’s, "that you can touch them." I knew then. This was the end for us. As the doctor was setting the butler's wrist, he was still fuming. "Sir, after everything you went through for that girl, are you just going to let this… this upstart walk all over you?" 2 I didn't answer. A new friend request had popped up on my phone. The profile picture was of the man, Leo, kissing Scarlett. I accepted. A voice message came through immediately. "Nick, I told you Scarlett wouldn't let you get away with this. Dislocating your butler’s wrist was just a warning. Scarlett said you have to apologize to me in person. I'll be waiting." "Everyone says Scarlett loves you more than life itself. I'm curious to see just how much," he sent, along with several more photos. "Which bed do you think would be most comfortable?" "Scarlett said the most dangerous place is the safest. As soon as I'm out of the hospital tomorrow, I'm moving into your house." "That room no one is allowed to enter? I'm coming for it." I listened to his taunts, then looked up at the giant wedding portrait hanging in the hall. It was a mockery. The dagger I was toying with flew from my hand, embedding itself in the smiling face of Scarlett in the photograph. "Filthy," I muttered. I walked out of the hall and saw Scarlett directing her men as they unloaded a bed from a truck. She was ordering them to carry it into the house. We came face to face. For a rare moment, she looked flustered. I leaned against the doorframe, listening to Leo’s cheerful voice. "Scarlett, why aren't you going in?" Then, he turned and saw me. "Oh, it's Brother Nick," he said, linking his arm through Scarlett's, his tone dripping with provocation. "Are you here to welcome me? Decided to apologize?" I watched his arrogance, and the undisguised affection in Scarlett's eyes. A thousand tiny needles pricked at my heart. Before I could respond, Scarlett spoke for him. "The doctor said Leo needs to rest," she said, her voice softening as she said his name. "You have your own staff to cook for you. It's just one extra plate. Nick, don't throw away the chance I'm giving you." I couldn't understand it. How could Scarlett be so certain that I would just take this? That I would abandon all my principles for her? I listened to her self-righteous tone and laughed. My laughter was joined by the sound of the butler ordering the defaced wedding portrait to be taken down. "Sir, where should we put this?" he asked. I saw the color drain from Scarlett’s face. I pointed to a large trash bin. "Have it shredded. And throw it out." The butler nodded and sent someone for shears. "Stop!" Scarlett shouted, striding toward me. "What is this, another one of your tantrums?" "Nick," her voice turned cold. "I've told you, you were the one in the wrong here. I'm helping Leo recover as a way of atoning for your sins. Don't be ungrateful." "That's right, Brother Nick," Leo chimed in. "Scarlett told me everything. You were the one who caused the death of your child. A mystic told her that if you ever want another child, you have to accumulate good karma. You don't appreciate her kindness, and you just keep causing trouble. You're forcing her to look elsewhere." Leo's words were a dagger to the heart, reopening a wound I thought had scarred over, leaving it to fester and rot. I looked at his smug face, then at Scarlett, who was just about to silence him. I grabbed Leo by the hair and laughed. "Who gave you the nerve to speak to me like that?" Before he could beg for mercy, I slammed his head against the solid wood of the front door. There was a sickening thud. Leo screamed. Scarlett grabbed my arm. "That's enough," she said, her eyes fixed on mine. "Leo is young, he doesn't know what he's saying! But he's not wrong. How long are you going to keep this up?" 3 I stared at her in disbelief. It was her reckless business dealings that had gotten them targeted. She had dragged our child into her mess. I had risked everything to save her, storming the enemy's stronghold to take down their leader. I had saved her, but I had lost our child. Afterward, she had knelt before me, slapping herself ninety-nine times, her forehead bloody as she kowtowed and wept. "Nick!" Her face was swollen, blood and tears streaming down her face, her voice choked. "If I, Scarlett, ever betray you in this life, may I be struck down by lightning!" "I, Scarlett!" she had vowed. "For the rest of my life, I am Nick Waner's dog!" Her words still echoed in my ears. She had ordered a complete blackout on the news, forbidding anyone from speaking about the child, knowing it was a wound that would never heal. We never spoke of it, but we prayed for our child together. Now, I looked at her face and let go of Leo. Scarlett visibly relaxed, her tone softening. "Nick, your temper—" I plunged the dagger into her eyebrow and smiled. "Scarlett, those who betray a true heart must swallow a thousand needles. This is the first." The blade pierced flesh, then was withdrawn. Blood splattered on my face. I watched the scar that had once been a badge of honor for her disappear, replaced by a mangled, bloody wound. I gave a mocking smile, but Leo shoved me hard. I stumbled back. When I looked up, his eyes were burning with hatred. "What gives you the right to hurt her?" I walked toward him and punched him in the face. "If you had any real strength, you wouldn't just be a kept man." "Either do something that impresses me," I said, grabbing his hair and kicking the back of his knee, forcing him to the ground, "and make Scarlett divorce me so you can be her next husband." "Or," I leaned in close, smiling, "you can just wait for me to play you to death." Leo’s eyes were red with tears, his trembling body like a cornered deer, but his gaze was defiant. "Go ahead and kill me! If you don't, I will never leave Scarlett!" Tears streamed down his face, catching the light of the setting sun. "I will be with her forever." I froze. I remembered when I was sixteen. My father had been ambushed, his body lost to the sea. My mother had given her life to get me to shore. The sunset was stained with blood. And Scarlett was there, waiting for me, her youthful courage defying death itself as she carved a path for me to live. It was Scarlett, the scar on her eyebrow a medal, the brutal wounds on her back a testament to her loyalty, who had crashed into my heart, shouting, "Young master! Run!" I was terrified, but I had plunged back into the fray, and together, we had fought our way to this day. Scarlett shoved me away, blood still streaming from her eyebrow, dripping from her eyelashes like tears of blood onto my heart. "Nick," she said, one eye squeezed shut in pain, "you have truly disappointed me." "I'm not divorcing you, but it's not because of love." She pulled Leo into her arms. "It's because your parents were good to me, and we have a bond forged in blood. Don't push my patience any further, or you will regret it." Leo sobbed in her arms. "Scarlett! I don't want to live here! I don't!" "I'm scared!" he cried, clutching her collar, hysterical. "I don't want to live with this madman! He'll kill me! He'll kill me!" 4 The air grew still. I saw myself at sixteen, pushing Scarlett away in a fit of madness, only to be held tight as she whispered, "Don't be afraid. I'm here." Now, she held Leo, gently stroking his back. "Don't be afraid," she said. "I'm here." "I'm here," she repeated, her eyes locking with mine, full of warning. "I won't let you hurt Leo. Since you're unwilling to cooperate, you have no one to blame but yourself." The day she moved out, she took Leo to the Seychelles. He'd said he wanted his own private island, so she bought him one. She took him to Iceland to see the Northern Lights. He posted photos of the sapphire she bought him, and a picture of a star he had named, with the caption: [From now on, whenever I look up, I'll see my star. Scarlett and Leo, a romance for the ages.] Her love was a whirlwind, loud and proud, for all the world to see. I admired her devotion to him. I looked around the half-empty mansion, at the simple silver ring on my finger that she had bought for me years ago for a few hundred dollars, and I smiled. "Mr. Abernathy," I said to my butler. He refilled my tea. "As I recall," I said softly, "the largest supplier to the Thorne Corporation does business with us out of respect for my parents." The butler immediately placed a contract in front of me. "Sir," he said, pointing to a clause. "Your parents worked tirelessly to secure your future. This is the path they paved for you." I read the contract, thinking of the sunsets in the Seychelles, the Northern Lights in Iceland, and that star. I dialed Scarlett's number. It went to voicemail. I tried a video call. Leo answered, his upper body covered in fresh love bites. "What is it?" he asked. "Scarlett's in the shower." He panned the camera to the bathroom, the steamy glass hinting at intimacy. "I thought you would have gotten the message by now. Why are you still clinging to her?" He sat on the bed, biting his lip provocatively. "Actually, there's something I probably shouldn't tell you, but I don't think keeping it a secret is a good idea either." "Nick," he said. "Do you know why Scarlett loves me and not you?" The video call ended. I sat in the living room, the air thick and suffocating. My heart began to pound erratically. I made a second call. Scarlett and Leo's grand banquet made local headlines. Everyone was saying that Leo had finally won, that he was no longer just some boy toy, but a man of status. People now greeted him with a respectful, "Mr. Thorne." The more sycophantic ones would add, with a smile, "You and Miss Scarlett make a perfect couple." In the ballroom, Leo stood with his arm around Scarlett, bathed in the glow of the spotlights. They looked like a real-life fairy tale prince and princess. Their mere presence commanded applause. "Tonight," Scarlett said, her voice soft as she looked at Leo, "I want to introduce someone to all of you." "He is Leo Thorne—" The doors burst open. A flood of men in black suits stormed the ballroom. The man in the lead slapped a stack of IOUs on Scarlett's face. "You're Scarlett Thorne, right?" She was furious, about to call for security, when she realized there wasn't a single one of her own men in the room. "The debt you owe," the man said, pressing the barrel of a gun to the still-healing scar on her eyebrow, "is due."
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