Chapter 6

Scarlett POV:

In his hand, he held a small, cheap-looking gift box.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice a low rumble that used to make my heart flutter. Now it just sounded like a lie. "For picking the lock. It's a bad habit from the old days."

He stepped into my room, closing the door behind him. The space suddenly felt too small, all the air sucked out.

"We need to talk about Daisy-Mae," he continued, his gaze unwavering. He set the box on my dresser. "You have to understand, Scarlett. Before your father found us, she was all I had. We were just kids, starving and scared. I promised her I would always protect her. Always."

His words were meant to sound noble, like some tragic backstory that excused everything. But I knew the truth. I had seen them.

"So you have to tolerate her," he said, and it wasn't a request. It was a command. "She will always be my first priority. Even after we're married. I'll give you everything else-the money, the power, the O'Connell name. I'll spoil you, just like your father wants. But Daisy-Mae... she comes first."

I almost laughed. He was offering me a business transaction, a gilded cage, while his heart belonged to another.

His phone buzzed then. He glanced at the screen, and a fraction of a smile touched his lips. It was her.

"I have to go," he said, already turning away. He gestured to the box on the dresser. "That's for you. A little something to make up for Dallas."

The moment the door clicked shut, I walked to the dresser. I picked up the box and opened it. Inside, nestled on cheap velvet, was a small turquoise pendant, a pale, insignificant imitation of "The Lone Star's Tear." It was an insult.

Without a second thought, I dropped it into the trash can.

My twentieth birthday arrived a week later. The grand ballroom of the Golden Thorn was filled with the most powerful people in Texas. I stood backstage, feeling numb, my maids fussing over the train of my gown.

A man in a sharp suit approached. "Ms. O'Connell? A delivery for you, from Mr. Prescott."

He opened a long, flat box. Inside, resting on black silk, was a necklace that stole my breath. It was a river of pigeon-blood red diamonds, so deep and fiery they seemed to burn with their own light. A matching set of earrings and a bracelet lay beside it. The placard read: "The Desert's Heart."

The man smiled. "Mr. Prescott asked me to pass on a message. He said, 'Turquoise is for commoners. A queen deserves rubies. And anyone who tries to humiliate a Prescott partner will find they have made a very powerful enemy.'"

A genuine smile, the first in weeks, touched my lips. I allowed my maids to fasten the magnificent jewels around my neck. The cold weight of them felt like armor.

As I prepared to make my entrance, Daisy-Mae appeared, blocking my path. She was wearing the "Lone Star's Tear." Her eyes widened when she saw the diamonds sparkling at my throat.

"My, my," she said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "Did Daddy buy you another pretty toy?"

"Move, Daisy-Mae," I said, my voice cold.

She didn't budge. Instead, she pulled out her phone, a vicious smirk twisting her pretty face. "You think you're going to marry Jax? You poor, stupid girl. He's been mine all along."

She pressed play.

The screen lit up with a video of my bedroom. My bed. And on it, writhing together, were her and Jax. It was raw, explicit, and undeniable.

"He's not the only one, you know," she whispered, her breath hot and foul against my ear as the video played on. "I've had all of them. Every single one of your precious cowboys. They all tell me the same thing while they're inside me... that they're only putting up with you so they can stay close to me."