Chapter 2

Scarlett

The entire ballroom fell deathly silent.

I stood there, my heart beating so fast it felt like it would burst through my chest. Everyone's eyes were on me, but I only looked at Damien, waiting for his response.

For the first time in eight years, I had bravely expressed my feelings. I thought I would see surprise, or at least gentle rejection.

But I was wrong.

Damien's face instantly turned ashen, his expression of anger making my heart sink to the pit of my stomach.

"Scarlett, you're still a child," his voice echoed throughout the ballroom, cold as if it came from the depths of hell. "This is both inappropriate and disgusting."

Each word stabbed into my heart like a knife.

Disgusting???

He called me disgusting???

I could hear the whispers around me, feel the surprised, sympathetic, even mocking glances. But I could only stand there, staring at Damien's cold face.

"But I'm an adult now!" I desperately tried to salvage something, my voice trembling.

Damien let out a cold laugh: "Age doesn't equal maturity, Scarlett. I suggest you apologize to everyone present for this... emotional outburst."

Emotional outburst?

He had reduced my heartfelt confession to an emotional outburst.

Tears began to blur my vision. I looked around, seeing only shocked and embarrassed expressions.

"Oh my God, is she crazy?"

"How awkward."

"Poor child."

Those comments buzzed around me like bees. I wanted to run away, to find a hole to crawl into, but my legs felt heavy as lead.

Just then, an elegant voice rang out:

"Darling, is everything alright?"

I turned to see a beautiful blonde woman gracefully walking toward Damien. She was about twenty-five, wearing a black evening gown, exuding the charm of a mature woman.

What broke my heart even more was that the moment Damien saw her, his tense expression visibly relaxed.

"Victoria, perfect timing." His tone even carried a sense of relief.

Victoria? Who was this woman?

The blonde woman elegantly took Damien's arm, then turned to the crowd with a perfect smile on her face: "I believe Scarlett is just emotionally overwhelmed. Poor child."

Poor child.

Child again.

Her voice was soft and gentle, but to me it was full of mockery. What I couldn't bear even more was the flash of triumph in her eyes when she looked at me.

The tears finally spilled over.

I turned and ran out of the ballroom, no longer able to endure those pitying looks.

I rushed into the hotel bathroom, looking at my swollen eyes and ruined makeup in the mirror. Eight years of waiting, eight years of love, all destroyed by his single word: "disgusting."

The bathroom door suddenly swung open.

That blonde woman—Victoria—walked in.

She still wore that perfect smile, but when the door closed, leaving just the two of us, her expression instantly changed.

That fake gentleness disappeared, replaced by cold calculation.

"Let me formally introduce myself," she leaned against the sink, sizing me up. "Victoria Ashford, Damien's fiancée."

Fiancée?

I felt my world collapse in an instant.

"What?" My voice was barely audible.

Victoria's smile grew even brighter: "Engaged three months ago. I'll soon be the new Mrs. Cross."

Fiancée. Engaged three months ago.

I wanted to say something, but my throat felt blocked.

"Oh, darling," Victoria walked toward me, her fake concern making me sick, "Damien finds you pathetic. He only tolerates you because of your trust fund."

"Did you really think he cared about you?" she continued, each word piercing my heart like a needle. "Men like Damien would never want spoiled little girls like you. You're nothing but a burden to him."

My hands began to shake. For eight years, I had thought Damien at least cared about me, at least considered me important. But now she was telling me it was all for money?

"You're lying." I finally found my voice.

Victoria let out a cold laugh, taking out her phone from her purse: "Let me show you something interesting."

She started recording, pointing the camera at my face—that tear-stained, makeup-ruined face.

"This meltdown will be quite entertaining for our social circle," she said while recording. "The Cross ward making a fool of herself at her own birthday party."

"Stop it!" I tried to grab her phone, but she deftly avoided me.

"I'll convince Damien to send you away," Victoria continued recording, her voice full of malice. "Far away from us. Perhaps to a boarding school in some remote location until you graduate college."

"I won't let you ruin my life!" I shouted angrily.

Victoria stopped recording, put away her phone, and her expression became even colder: "Darling, you don't have a life to begin with. You're just a charity case he took in out of obligation to your dead father."

In that moment, I felt my heart completely shatter.

Every word she said cut into my heart like a knife.

But just as she turned to leave, a fire suddenly ignited within me.

No, I couldn't be defeated like this.

I couldn't let this woman easily destroy my life.

I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand, fixed my hair in the mirror, then turned to face Victoria.

"You think you've won?" My voice was still trembling, but now carried determination. "You don't know me at all."

Victoria raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised by my sudden counterattack.

"I may be only eighteen, but I'm not the helpless little girl you imagine," I walked toward her step by step. "And Damien... he might think he doesn't care about me, but I know the truth better than anyone."

I remembered his hands gripping the steering wheel this afternoon, the anger in his eyes when he saw me kissing Tyler, his tone when he said "under my protection."

Those weren't acts; they were real emotions.

"You can have your Christmas wedding," I looked into Victoria's eyes. "But don't think this is over."

With that, I pushed open the bathroom door and walked out with long strides.

My heart was still aching, but it was also burning with anger and determination.

Victoria, you want war? I'll give you war.