Sebastian had hoped naively, maybe, that after returning to Manhattan he would get a quiet night with his wife. But Scarlet was Scarlet.
Even confined to her high-tech suite overlooking the city, she still ran the rhythm of the penthouse like a queen who refused to be dethroned.
"Take Cassie to the Billionaire's Club," she had ordered in that soft, iron tone she used when she was pretending not to care too much.
There were moments when her behavior made him wonder if she loved him the way he loved her.
But then he'd overhear her on calls with her mother or brother, her voice softened in a way she rarely let anyone else hear, and all doubt dissolved.
Scarlet didn't cling. She refused to cage him beside her. She always said that keeping him stagnant would destroy the brillia
