Epilogue: What She Deserved

Six months later, Scarlett stood in Alexander’s kitchen and made tea.

The penthouse had become hers as much as his. Her books lined the shelves. Her laptop sat on the kitchen island. Her toothbrush lived next to his in the bathroom.

Richard was in prison.

The SEC had found the embezzlement. The insurance policy. The hidden accounts. Alexander’s evidence had been meticulous, brutal, and complete. Richard would be old before he saw daylight again.

Scarlett had testified at the trial.

She had looked Richard in the eye and told the truth. Every word. Every bruise. Every crack in the bathroom floor.

And when it was over, she had walked out of the courthouse without looking back.

Alexander came up behind her now. His arms wrapped around her waist. His chin rested on her shoulder.

“You’re thinking too loud,” he said.

“I’m always thinking too loud.”

He turned her around. Cupped her face in his hands. Looked at her like he had in the photograph. Like she was the sun.

“I’m not going to ask you to marry me,” he said.

“Good. I’m not ready for that.”

“I know.” He kissed her forehead. “But I am going to ask you to stay.”

Scarlett looked at him. This man who had burned an empire to the ground for her. This man who had waited ten years. This man who had reminded her who she used to be.

“I never should have left you,” she said.

“No,” he agreed. “But you did. And now you’re back.”

“Now I’m back.”

She kissed him. Soft. Slow. A promise, not a demand.

When she pulled away, she was smiling.

“I have a meeting tomorrow,” she said. “A hedge fund wants me to run their Southeast Asian division.”

Alexander raised an eyebrow. “Are you taking it?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

“Good.” He pulled her closer. “You should think about it.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me to stay?”

He shook his head. “I told you before. I don’t save you. I just give you the tools.”

Scarlett laughed. It was a real laugh. The kind she had forgotten she knew.

“I love you,” she said.

“I know,” he replied.

It wasn’t a grand declaration. It wasn’t a proposal. It wasn’t a happily ever after.

But it was a beginning.

And for a woman who had spent three years counting cracks in a bathroom floor, that was more than enough.

Outside the penthouse windows, the city glittered with lights. Each one a story. Each one a choice.

Scarlett Hayes had made hers.

And she would never count cracks again.