𝐕𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

Chapter 41: A Bridge Between Shadows

Alexander

The night hung heavy with tension as I made my way to Scarlett’s apartment. The weight of the truth was like an iron chain around my neck, dragging me down into the abyss of my own mistakes. The silence in the car was deafening, broken only by the rhythmic hum of the tires against the asphalt. The city lights passed by in a blur, but I could barely focus on anything other than the conversation that awaited me.

Scarlett had finally agreed to talk, thanks to Emily’s intervention. Emily had always been good at cutting through the noise, at seeing what was really important. She had seen how Scarlett was suffering, how the accusations leveled against her had chipped away at the vibrant, resilient woman she was. And now, Scarlett was willing to hear me out—willing to listen to the truth that I had kept hidden for far too long.

But what would that truth do to her? What would it do to us?

When I arrived at Scarlett’s apartment building, I hesitated before stepping out of the car. The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror, his expression neutral, but I could sense the curiosity beneath it. Everyone wanted to know what was going on between Scarlett and me—why the powerful CEO Alexander Blackwood was visiting his employee at her apartment so late at night. But this wasn’t about gossip or appearances. This was about survival—about righting the wrongs that had been done.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself before exiting the car. The cold night air hit me like a wave, but I barely noticed as I strode toward the entrance. Scarlett’s apartment was in a quiet, upscale building—one I had chosen for her because I knew it was safe, secure. But as I rode the elevator up to her floor, I couldn’t shake the feeling that no place was truly safe anymore. Not with Vivian still out there, pulling strings I could barely see.

When the elevator doors slid open, I was met with a silence that seemed almost oppressive. The hallway was dimly lit, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch toward me, as if trying to pull me back. But I pressed forward, stopping in front of Scarlett’s door. For a moment, I just stood there, my hand hovering over the doorbell, wrestling with the words I needed to say.

Finally, I rang the bell.

The seconds stretched into an eternity before the door creaked open, revealing Scarlett. My heart clenched painfully at the sight of her. She looked… fragile, like a delicate flower that had been battered by a storm. Her usual vibrant energy was dimmed, her eyes dull and rimmed with red as if she hadn’t slept in days. Her skin, normally glowing with health, was pale, almost sickly, and her auburn hair fell in disheveled waves around her face.

But despite her obvious exhaustion, there was still something about her that took my breath away. Even in her worn-out state, she was beautiful—ethereal, almost. She was wearing a simple dress, soft and flowing, the kind that normally would have clung to her curves in all the right ways. But tonight, it hung loosely on her frame, emphasizing just how much weight she had lost in such a short time.

Seeing her like this, knowing that I was partly to blame, made my chest tighten with guilt.

“Scarlett…” I started, but she held up a hand, stopping me.

“Don’t,” she said, her voice hoarse and raw, as if she had been crying. “Don’t start with the apologies. Just… just tell me what you came here to say.”

Her eyes bore into mine, filled with a mixture of pain and determination. A tear slipped down her cheek, and without thinking, I reached out to wipe it away. My fingers brushed against her soft skin, and for a moment, the world fell away. It was just the two of us, standing in the hallway, connected by the shared weight of our emotions.