His Savior's Staged Rescue

I said nothing. I just met his gaze coldly.

He didn't wait for an explanation. He rushed to Scarlett's side, helping her up as if she were a fragile porcelain doll.

In that moment, I remembered a business merger two years ago. To protect his company from a hostile takeover, I had pulled multiple all-nighters analyzing data for him, even shelving one of my own crucial research projects. I collapsed in the lab from hypoglycemia. When I woke up, the only thing beside me was a cold IV drip.

What had he said then? "There's too much to deal with after the merger. As the future Mrs. Sterling, I need you to be stronger."

So, he wasn't incapable of gentleness. He just reserved it for someone else.

A spilled glass of wine, and he acted as if Scarlett had taken a bullet. That blatant double standard finally extinguished the last flicker of love I had for him.

I watched their retreating backs and let out a self-mocking smile. My phone vibrated.

It was a text from Ronan Blackwood.

[Cassia, your extraction team is on standby. You can leave whenever you're ready.]

I replied without hesitation: [See you in two hours.]

I went back to my room to pack the last of my files and my mother's belongings.

However, when I opened the safe, my mind went blank.

It was gone. The paper manuscript of my mother's research was gone. It was the only original copy, a priceless treasure, and the last memento she had left me.

I knew exactly who had taken it. At that moment, my rage finally erupted.

Burning with a fury I could no longer contain, I stormed toward the lab.

I kicked the door open.

Scarlett was sitting alone at a lab bench. She was carelessly flipping through the manuscript, a vicious smirk on her face.

"Looking for this piece of junk?" She saw me, but there was no fear in her eyes, only crazed satisfaction. "Something this outdated doesn't belong here. It's an eyesore. I don't want this trash dirtying the office I'll be sharing with Grayson."

With that, she “accidentally” tipped over a bottle of corrosive acid sitting on the bench beside her.

The liquid splashed onto the manuscript, sending up plumes of acrid white smoke. My mother's precious handwriting dissolved into nothing.

"No—!"

Thought ceased. All that remained was a pure, searing hatred that eclipsed everything else.

I lunged. Before Scarlett could react, I slapped her across the face with all my might. The crisp sound echoed through the lab, and her cheek immediately began to swell.

The force of the blow sent her staggering into the lab bench. She let out a blood-curdling scream, but just as she fell, her eyes darted over my shoulder toward the door.

Heavy footsteps were approaching. Scarlett looked at the door and shot me a triumphant, defiant smile.