Even though the jet officially belonged to her fake husband, it was now hers, a component of the life she had been constructing since vanishing from the spotlight.
The marriage had been finalized few months back, but the foundation of their arrangement had been laid two years earlier, when Grayson pulled her back from the brink of ruin.
The time away had not been idle.
Grayson had ensured that.
She closed the tabloid on her lap, her jaw tightening as her hair glinted under the soft overhead light.
The headline mocked her:
"Sydney Harper and Max Davis: Stardom Heights' Hottest Couple."
Below the caption was a photograph of Sydney draped in designer couture, her arm linked with Max's as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. The article gushed about their perfect romance, the power couple of the entertainment industry, and the possibility of an engagement on the horizon.
Beneath the glossy article, comments poured in, fawning over them.
"Sydney and Max are the definition of love goals! So happy for them!"
"Max finally found someone who matches his caliber. Unlike Scarlet, who couldn't handle the pressure."
"If only Scarlet was around to see this!"
The replies under that comment twisted the knife further:
"Scarlet Sinclair? Washed up. Irrelevant. Good riddance."
"She's probably too ashamed to show her face."
"She deserved it."
"She's been gone for two years. No one even remembers her anymore."
"I hope she's rotting in obscurity-or jail."
Her lips curled into a wry smile as her fingers traced the edge of her tabloid.
It no longer stung the way it would have two years ago.
In those days she may have sobbed herself to sleep, reliving the headlines, the betrayal, the whispers behind her back.
But not anymore.
Sydney and Max.
Two snakes slithering through the industry, so perfect for each other it almost made Scarlet laugh.
The old Scarlet would have been hurt. This Scarlet?
She simply saw them as the first names on her list.
The jet touched the tarmac gently, and Scarlet adjusted the lapels of her black suit.
She stood tall and bold, her figure reflected by the sharpness of the blazer that she wore.
Oversized shades veiling her eyes and hair bouncing in soft waves, she came down the steps to find a glossy black vehicle ready for her.
The metallic snap of her shoes hitting the cobbled road rang out like an announcement.
Bayhaven Heights spread before her like an old battlefield.
The city remained the same-skyscrapers, crowded and busy streets.
But Scarlet wasn't the same.
The past two years had reshaped her entirely.
Her light brown hair was now a striking auburn, and her demeanor was no longer fragile or unsure.
She had grown stronger, sharper, and far more dangerous.
Grayson had seen to that.
His cold, calculated lessons on power, influence, and strategy had been grueling, but they had worked.
'The world didn't care about fairness or justice, he'd said. You had to take what you wanted.'
Scarlet had learned to play the game-and now she intended to win.
Her destination was Crown Entertainment Group, the apex of the entertainment world. It was a place Scarlet had dreamed of reaching long before her life unraveled.
They controlled the biggest names, the largest productions, the very pulse of Stardom Heights.
Careers were launched-or destroyed-at the whims of its leadership.
Being signed under Crown was a career-defining achievement.
And now, thanks to Grayson, it was hers.
The thought of her husband-her fake husband-brought a faint smirk to her lips. She didn't know how he had pulled it off, placing her in a company that had always seemed untouchable.
Clearly, Grayson's influence was far greater than she had imagined.
He was not only powerful, he was an entity that was unstoppable, moving pieces on a chessboard he could see.
The vehicle arrived and Scarlet's eyes roved over the enormous structure.
Crown's headquarters was a triumph of contemporary architecture, its imposing glass exterior reflecting the city back at itself. She had hoped to be here, but it had seemed like a dream before, lost under the rubble of her circumstances.
Passing through the elegant revolving doors and into the building's opulent lobby, she smiled slightly.
She was crossing through its doorway at that moment.
The entry area was grand but simple, made to wow yet not too showy.
Scarlet's heels hit the sleek marble floor as she moved with aim to the front desk.
The receptionist barely looked up but gave her a kind smile.
"Greetings from Crown Entertainment. How may I assist you?"
"I'm Scarlet Sinclair," she said dully, and the name slipped from her lips with fresh confidence.
The receptionist's gaze showed recognition, yet she remained steady.
"Certainly, Ms. Sinclair. You are being awaited. Kindly take the elevator to the executive level."
Scarlet stepped inside the elevator, watching the indicators rise as she moved up to what would be the next phase of her life-and her vengeance.
She was not only there to reclaim her position in the limelight.
Her absence had brought infusion, but it had also cemented her fury.
The anger she had concealed, the suffering she had weathered-it was all there, keener than ever.
She was not going to forgive.
The first name on her list was Sydney Harper.
Formerly her most trusted confidant, Sydney was responsible for leaking harmful details to the media.
Scarlet had endured restless nights going over their final talk, the deceitful words Sydney had woven, and the frosty grin that exposed her treachery.
Sydney had pretended to be loyal, only to betray her for a chance at stardom.
Next was Max Davis.
The man who had promised her the world, only to abandon her the moment her reputation began to crumble.
Max had been untouchable back then, his connections insulating him from any consequences.
But Scarlet wasn't the same naive girl he had discarded.
Then there was her former manager-the one who framed her for embezzlement, planting fake evidence that sent her career into a nosedive.
The press had crucified her, and the industry had shunned her, all thanks to his greed.
And finally, her parents.
They hadn't just turned their backs on her. They had publicly disowned her for everyone to see, joining forces with those who had destroyed her.
It was the hardest to bear of all treacheries; a gaping gash that ached unceasingly, long after it had festered.
They should all be scared.
Every last one of them.
Her return wasn't just about rebuilding her name or career.
It was about taking back everything they had stolen from her-and more.
All the rage, anger, and pain they had inflicted on her would be doubled, magnified, and delivered right back to them.
She would make sure of it.
The door of the elevator opened and Scarlet got out, her high heels clicked on the floor.
This was more than just a return.
It was payback.