In a classic-style living room with tall windows overlooking the winter garden, Scarlett sat across from Eleanor Hastings. The scent of freshly brewed Earl Grey tea filled the air, but Scarlett didn't even glance at the cup in front of her.
Eleanor studied the young woman with a piercing gaze that seemed to cut straight to the heart. "You're brave enough to come here alone. That alone proves you're not a foolish girl."
"I didn't come to prove anything, Eleanor. I came for answers," Scarlett replied flatly, though her voice held firm determination.
"And you'll get them." Eleanor crossed her legs gracefully, yet an air of danger still clung to her. "But let's start with something light, like the identity of your biological father."
Scarlett stiffened. "What do you mean?"
"Jonathan Monroe may have raised you, but he's not the one who planted the seed in your mother's womb." Eleanor leaned forward, her eyes sharp. "You carry Blackwell blood, Scarlett. And not through marriage."
Scarlett froze. Her breath caught in her throat.
"Lucas Blackwell," Eleanor continued, her voice calm like a serpent's hiss. "Your biological father. Asher's half-brother."
Silence hung in the air like thick fog. Scarlett opened her mouth, but no words came out.
Eleanor curled a faint, wicked smile. "It hurts, doesn't it? Finding out that the person you despise most is actually your own flesh and blood?"
"Why… why didn't anyone tell me?"
"Because your mother wanted to protect you. The Blackwell world is poisonous. She wanted to keep you away from it. But Lucas… he never stopped trying to get closer."
Scarlett turned her face away, eyes growing red. "And now he's dead. Murdered."
"Yes," Eleanor nodded slowly. "And Asher knows more than he's telling you."
Scarlett's gaze shot toward Eleanor, sharp as a blade. "Tell me everything. Don't let me live in lies any longer."
Eleanor sipped her tea calmly before speaking. "Lucas discovered there was a traitor in the family. Someone selling company secrets to competitors. He was close to uncovering their identity when his car exploded. Asher was there and he was the only one who survived."
"You're accusing Asher?" Scarlett whispered, her heart pounding.
"I'm not accusing," Eleanor replied coolly. "I'm simply saying… the truth often hides behind sympathy."
Scarlett fell silent. Her thoughts were in disarray. Her world was collapsing, and there was only one way forward now: to seek the truth, even if it meant facing Asher Blackwell.
"I'll find out myself," she murmured.
Eleanor smiled faintly. "And when you do, remember this, Scarlett: the truth isn't for the weak. It can either destroy you… or turn you into someone stronger."
Scarlett rose to her feet. Her eyes now burned with resolve. "Then I'll become stronger."
Her steps took her out of the house. The winter wind brushed against her face, yet her mind was colder than the air around her.Lucas Blackwell… my real father. And Asher… my brother?
If Asher knew we were siblings, why did he marry me? Was everything just a lie?
Her steps faltered. The world felt like it was spinning. Her body nearly collapsed, but someone caught her just before she hit the ground.
"Are you alright?" asked a stranger, who had moved quickly to catch her.
"Thank you for helping me," Scarlett said softly, trying to steady herself.
"Where do you live? Do you need me to walk you home?" the man asked again, his tone sincere.
Scarlett shook her head, offering a faint smile. "No need. Thank you very much."
"Then please take care," he said before walking away.
Scarlett watched his back as he left, feeling an odd sense of familiarity. His face… she'd seen it somewhere before. But where?
She shook her head gently and searched for the nearest bench. Sitting down slowly, she tried to catch her breath. A small kick from inside her belly reminded her of another truth she carried.
"Yes, sweetheart… I'm sorry. Mommy's just overwhelmed," she whispered gently, stroking her stomach. "Let's rest for a bit, okay?"
The storm of truth had only just begun. But Scarlett knew, she couldn't run anymore.
Meanwhile, Asher stared at his phone screen, his expression tense. He had just received a report from one of his trusted men who had been shadowing Scarlett. The news hit him like a lightning bolt, Scarlett had almost collapsed after leaving Eleanor Hastings' house. That detail might seem minor to anyone else, but not to Asher.
His lips tightened, his gaze distant. He was in the middle of leading a critical meeting with his top executives. The next quarter's strategy presentation had only just begun, but his mind was elsewhere, not on profit charts, but on the woman carrying his child who might be in danger.
"Mr. Asher, what's your take on the expansion strategy?" his secretary asked cautiously, noticing the sudden change in his demeanor.
Asher blinked as if coming out of a trance. He looked at her, then slowly stood up."Cancel all my appointments for today. Postpone this meeting until I return. And book me a ticket to London, now," he said calmly, but the edge in his voice left no room for objection.
"I'm sorry, sir, but tomorrow you're scheduled for a major—"
"I said cancel everything!" he snapped. His raised voice stunned everyone in the room. Never before had Asher stormed out of a meeting like this, let alone lost his composure.
He grabbed his coat, ignoring the bewildered stares from his employees. Nothing mattered more right now than making sure Scarlett was safe. The tightness in his chest was unbearable. He couldn't sit still knowing the woman he loved and their unborn child were in possible danger.
Eleanor wasn't just any woman. She could manipulate anyone for money, even twist reality if needed. And now, Scarlett was within her reach. The person who'd contacted Scarlett wasn't a stranger to Asher either. It was Grayson Hale, a man from his past with a grudge that ran deep.
Asher clenched his fists. He knew Grayson wouldn't stop until he saw Asher ruined. And if he'd managed to pull Eleanor into his game, anything could happen.
Moving swiftly, Asher exited the meeting room and called Connor, his right-hand man. "Connor, I need your help. Handle everything at the office while I'm gone. I'm flying to London."
"London? What's going on?"
"Scarlett. I'm sure Grayson is making his move. Find out what he's planning, and don't let any of his men near the company, or Scarlett. Keep an eye on Eleanor too. They're likely working together."
"But—"
"Don't ask, Connor. Just do it." Asher ended the call without waiting for a reply.
He knew Connor could be trusted. It had been years since their past conflict, but Grayson's wounds clearly hadn't healed. That vengeance still burned, relentless. Grayson had never let Asher explain, not back then, and not now. All he wanted was revenge, no matter who got hurt in the process.
Asher took a deep breath. This time, it wasn't just him on the line. Scarlett and their unborn child were in the crosshairs too.
And he would protect them. Even if it meant facing the ghost of his past alone.
Now, Asher's entire focus was fixed on one thing—Scarlett. No longer the company, no longer important meetings, no longer the family legacy. Only that woman and the child she carried inside her.They were the only things that truly mattered to him now.
With his suit jacket slung over his shoulder and a face unable to hide his restlessness, Asher stepped into the car that would take him to the airport. His personal driver drove calmly. Throughout the ride, Asher stared blankly out the window, his mind consumed by thoughts of Scarlett. He thought of the worst possibilities—what if she was sick, in danger, or slipping further away from him as more truths began to unravel?
But that calm didn't last long. A loud crash suddenly tore through the air.A blaring horn followed by the screech of brakes. Within seconds, a massive truck came barreling from the side and slammed into Asher's car with devastating force.
The impact was so strong that the vehicle was thrown several meters from its lane, spinning in the air before crashing hard onto the curb. The windshield shattered, airbags deployed, and the world turned black in an instant.
Chaos erupted on the road. Shouts filled the air, emergency calls were made, and hurried footsteps echoed from all directions.
But inside the wrecked car, among shattered glass and the metallic scent of blood, Asher lay motionless. Blood trickled from his temple, staining his once-crisp white shirt.In his left hand, he still clutched his phone. On the screen, Scarlett's photo. The only person on his mind, even in the final seconds before he lost consciousness.