Chapter 7

Scarlett POV:

The check lay on the floor like a dead leaf. A million dollars. Hush money. Guilt money. I laughed, a harsh, ugly sound that didn't feel like my own. I tore it into tiny, satisfying pieces and let them flutter into the wastebasket.

He thought he could buy my forgiveness. He still didn't get it. This was never about money. It was about everything else.

My 21st birthday was supposed to be a celebration of my future, the day I officially inherited the O'Hara estate. Now, it would be a funeral. The funeral for the girl I used to be.

The night of the party, the manor was ablaze with lights, filled with the cream of Virginia society. I stood at the top of the grand staircase, watching them all. Carter was by my side, his presence a solid, comforting weight. He had replaced the necklace Julian had failed to buy with one that was even more spectacular, a river of sapphires that matched my eyes.

"You look like a queen ready to sentence traitors," he murmured, his eyes dark with admiration.

"Tonight, I'm just trying to survive," I replied, a knot of unease tightening in my stomach. Something felt wrong.

My gaze swept the room, finally finding them. Julian and Lily. They stood together, a little isolated from the crowd. He looked haunted, his eyes constantly searching for me. Lily clung to his arm, a vision of innocence in a white dress, but her eyes held a triumphant gleam.

She saw me looking and deliberately leaned up to whisper something in Julian's ear, her lips brushing his cheek. A calculated display of intimacy. Then she detached herself and walked towards me, her smile sickly sweet.

"Happy birthday, Scarlett," she said, her voice dripping with false sincerity. "I hope you enjoy your special presentation. I put a lot of thought into it."

Before I could respond, the lights in the ballroom dimmed. A huge screen descended behind the orchestra stage. My father's lawyer, Mr. Abernathy, stepped up to a podium.

"And now, a special video presentation to celebrate Scarlett O'Hara's 21st birthday!"

But the image that appeared on the screen wasn't the montage of my childhood photos I had approved. My heart stopped. It was me.