Scarlett’s POV
"Leo, I an it. We can’t see each other again until I return," I said, my voice trembling as I clutched the sheets to my chest. "We can talk on the phone, but I need you to respect my decision. It’s just two years."
"No," Leo snapped, his jaw tight. "Two years is a lifeti, Scarlett. I just found you. I’m not letting you vanish again."
"You have to!" I cried, the frustration bubbling over. Did he think this was easy for ? Every ti I looked at him, I felt a crushing weight of guilt. I was seeing him behind his brothers’ backs, keeping a secret that would shatter Leonard and Liam if they ever found out. "This is my decision, Leo. You said you could get your brothers to start families—fine. Work on that. But we are not eting like this. Not until the ti is right."
"You’re asking to go back to a life of pretending you’re dead," he growled, pacing the small space of the hotel room.
"And you’re being selfish!" I yelled back. "You’re only thinking about what you want, not the war this will start if we’re caught."
"Yes, I’m selfish!" he roared, turning to face with a feral intensity in his eyes. "I’m your mate, Scarlett. I’ve spent three years in hell. I’m not going back."
"We are no longer mates, Leo," I whispered, the words tasting like poison. "You marked soone else. You have a wife. I can only imagine the pain she’s in right now, feeling what we just did through your bond."
He rolled his eyes, a look of pure coldness crossing his face. "Bianca ans nothing to . That mark is a scar, nothing more."
"It doesn’t matter!" I stood up, wrapping the robe tightly around . "This has to stop. We are not seeing each other again until the two years are over. I won’t be looking over my shoulder every second, waiting for Leonard to walk in on us."
"I lost you once," he said, his voice dropping to a frustrated, low pitch. "I’m not losing you again. I won’t allow it."
"It is not for you to decide!" I stepped into his space, defying the Alpha aura he was throwing off. "This is my life. My choice. If you truly love , you’ll let go until it’s safe."
We argued for what felt like hours, the air thick with tension and the lingering scent of our tryst. We went back and forth until finally, the fire in his eyes died down into a dull, painful ache.
"Fine," he muttered, rubbing his face with his hands. "I’m sorry for yelling. I’m sorry."
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My heart was too heavy.
"Fine," he repeated, sounding defeated. "How do we contact each other? You said no etings, but I need to hear your voice. I need to know that you are okay."
"I don’t have a phone yet," I said softly. "But I’ll get one."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, scribbling a number on the back. "This is my personal line. Only I answer it." He handed it to , his fingers lingering against mine. "Scar, I’m respecting your decision. I’ll stay away. But listen to : if I don’t hear from you in two days, I will tell my brothers you’re alive. I’ll pay every tracker in the world to find you. Do you understand?"
"I understand," I whispered. "I’ll call."
An awkward, painful silence hung between us. Then, without a word, he reached out and pulled into a hard, desperate hug. He buried his face in my hair, inhaling deeply, before kissing the top of my head. He pulled back just enough to press a lingering kiss to my cheek.
"I love you," he breathed. "Call ."
He hesitated at the door, looking back one last ti with a look of pure agony before he finally turned and left.
I fell back onto the bed the mont the door clicked shut. My body was still humming with the pleasure he had given , but my mind was a wreck. What had I done? Having sex with Leo behind his brothers’ backs once was a mistake, but twice? It wasn’t just a mistake anymore; it was foolishness. I was playing with fire.
Later that day, Ethan’s voice echoed in my head. "Scar? My friend is coming to et you tomorrow morning. He’ll help with the new identity and the move."
"Thank you, Ethan," I replied tiredly.
I stayed in my room all day, the walls feeling like they were closing in. By 7:00 PM, the silence beca too much. I needed air. I threw on a hoodie, pulling the strings tight to hide my face, and slipped out of the room.
I wandered aimlessly through the hotel until I found myself near the entrance of the hotel club. I don’t know what possessed to walk inside, but the mont I did, my heart stopped.
Leonard was there.
He was sitting alone at a corner table, a half-empty bottle of whiskey in front of him. He wasn’t the arrogant, strong Alpha I rembered. He looked broken. His shoulders were slumped, and his eyes were fixed on the amber liquid in his glass with a look of such intense pain that it felt like a physical blow to my chest.
A single tear slid down my cheek. My heart shattered for him. I had just spent hours in his brother’s arms while he sat here, drowning in grief for .
"I’m sorry, Leonard," I whispered, the sound lost in the thumping bass of the club music.
I turned to leave, terrified he would look up and see through my disguise, but then a sudden, reckless idea popped into my head. I couldn’t talk to him as Scarlett... but maybe, just for a mont, I could make us et.
I took a deep breath, wiped my eyes, and began to walk into the club—not straight at him, but rather toward one of the bouncers.
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