Chapter 2

Scarlett POV:

I didn't wait. I walked straight to my room, the lock clicking shut behind me with a sound of finality. The reflection in the vanity mirror showed a stranger-a pale girl with wide, haunted eyes and a trembling lip. A fool. A deluded little girl who had built her entire world on a foundation of lies.

The shock was a physical thing, a block of ice forming in my chest, making it hard to breathe. For a long moment, I just stared, watching the girl in the mirror fall apart. Then, through the haze of pain, a voice whispered in my head. It sounded like my father. An O'Hara is never a victim, Scarlett. We are the storm. And beneath the ice, something else began to stir. A slow, burning heat. Rage.

My father, Patrick O'Hara, had built a wine empire from a single vine. He was a force of nature. When he found them, seven brilliant but destitute boys at an elite orphanage, he saw a chance to create a dynasty of loyalty. He brought them home, educated them, and named them my guardians, my "brothers." Julian, the leader, was to marry me, uniting his strategic genius with my inheritance, as stipulated in my father's will. And I, blinded by a fairytale romance, had been so happy, so willing.

And Lily. Sweet, fragile Lily, the only girl among them, the one they all treated like a delicate porcelain doll. The one I had welcomed into my home and my heart like a sister.

It was all a performance. A long, elaborate play with me as the unwitting audience and the sole source of funding.

My gaze fell on the phone resting on my nightstand. The first act of my new life was simple. I picked it up, my hand no longer shaking, and dialed the number for our family's financial manager, Mr. Abernathy.

"Mr. Abernathy," I said, my voice steady and cold. "It's Scarlett O'Hara. I need you to do something for me."

"Of course, Miss O'Hara. Anything."

"Cancel all of Lily Vance's supplementary credit cards. All of them. Effective immediately."

There was a brief pause on the other end. "May I ask the reason, Miss O'Hara?"

"The reason," I said, a bitter smile touching my lips, "is that the parasite's free ride is over."

The next morning, there was a soft knock on my door. I knew who it was before I opened it. Lily stood there, her face a perfect mask of worried innocence.

"Scarlett, are you okay?" she asked, her voice dripping with fake concern. "Julian was so worried about you last night. You just ran off."

The sight of her, the sound of her voice, sent a wave of nausea through me. I had to physically clench my stomach to keep from being sick on her designer shoes-shoes I had probably paid for.

"I'm fine," I said, my tone flat. "Just tired."

She reached out to touch my arm in a gesture of sisterly comfort. "You know you can talk to me about anything..."

I flinched away as if her hand were a hot iron. "Don't touch me."

The words were sharp, cutting through the cloying sweetness of her act. For a split second, the mask slipped. I saw a flash of raw anger in her eyes, a flicker of hatred so intense it stole my breath. Then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by a wounded, tear-filled gaze.

"What did I do wrong, Scarlett?"