Chapter 8
That single phrase dissolved Scarlett’s unease.
Preparations for the Vance–Rossi wedding exploded.
Meanwhile, Alex hid in his study, frantically searching for our wedding photos.
None existed.
The realization hit him like a physical blow. How many times had I asked? Begged? Each time, Scarlett found a reason to call him away.
Sweat beaded on his forehead. Evelyn’s shattered face swam before him.
Tremors wracked him. He hurled his phone against the wall.
The door opened. Scarlett stood there, barely dressed. She launched herself at him.
“Alex… it’s been days… I need you…”
She arched, emphasizing her cleavage. Her usual trump card.
But this time, Alex only gave her a cold glance.
“Big day tomorrow. Tomorrow night… I’ll satisfy you. Okay?”
Scarlett pouted, saw his exhaustion, and retreated with a flirty pout.
The wedding day arrived. Packed venue.
The Rossi family flew in, beaming.
During the ring exchange, Alex stood frozen.
Scarlett tugged his sleeve.
He reacted violently. Ripping off her veil, he seized her throat.
“Did the billions clear?” His voice was guttural. “Fun playing me?”
Scarlett paled. Seeing the murderous glint, she stammered, “Alex… joke… I didn’t…”
Alex’s laugh was icy. His grip tightened.
“Remember now?”
Chapter 8
Scarlett denied, pleaded. Her face purpled. The blushing bride vanished, replaced by terror.
Her family rushed forward. Security swarmed, pinning them down.
Gasping, Scarlett broke, “My fault…”
“I just loved you… wanted you… didn’t mean for her to diel She chose it!”
Scarlett burst into tears.
“Now that she’s dead, we can be together, can’t we?”
She wept, her gaze fixed adoringly on Alex. Once, that look melted him.
Now? It fueled rage.
The realization – he’d betrayed Evelyn for this – burned like acid.
–
He needed it to stop. The pain. The guilt.
His eyes were glacial. He backhanded Scarlett across the mouth.
She sprawled on the floor, gasping. She scrambled up, not pleading, but laughing – harsh, hysterical.
Her eyes met his, cold and venomous.
“Alexander Vance! You pathetic coward! She lived? You couldn’t commit! She dies? You play the grieving lover!”
“You’re disgusting!”
C
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
