Kingsley's Bride

Chapter 36: Believe

I sat by the window, staring out at the gray horizon, lost in my thoughts. The world outside felt so far away, like something I could watch but never reach. A perfect reflection of how I felt inside.

The door creaked open behind me. I didn't have to turn around to know it was Lord Darius. I could feel the weight of his presence, the tension that seemed to follow him wherever he went. My hands rested in my lap, fingers absentmindedly fiddling with the edge of my gown, but I refused to acknowledge him.

"Scarlett."

His voice was low, soft, almost pleading. He stepped closer, his boots barely making a sound against the polished floor. But I kept my gaze fixed on the clouds outside, refusing to give him the satisfaction of my attention.

Not after what he did. Not after what I just learned about his ways with me from the beginning.

I heard him sigh, felt the shift in the air as he approached me, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him kneel beside me, his head level with mine. His hand reached for mine, brushing lightly against my fingers. But I didn't move.

My hands remained still, cold, unresponsive.

"Julian isn't who you think he is," he murmured, his voice almost coaxing. "I know you're upset, but you have to understand. He crossed a line. Coming here, sneaking into the estate, he had to be punished."

Punished.

That word twisted something inside me. He spoke about it so casually, like it was a simple matter, like it didn't involve breaking someone. I wanted to scream at him, to tell him how wrong he was, how monstrous. But instead, I sat in silence, my lips pressed into a thin line.

"His fingers weren't broken," Darius continued, his tone still gentle, as if he were offering some kind of comfort. "It was just a lesson. A warning. He'll be fine."

I nearly laughed at that, but even that felt too much like a reaction, too much like an acknowledgment of his twisted reasoning. I wouldn't give him that. Not after everything. He could stand there and talk all he wanted, but he wouldn't get a single word from me.

He exhaled, clearly growing frustrated, though he was trying to hide it.

"You're going to be the future Duchess," he said, his tone shifting to something more practical.

"You need to stay away from people like Julian. These kinds of controversies... they're beneath you, Scarlett. You're better than that."

Better than that?

He tried again, his hand lingering near mine, fingertips brushing my wrist. The contact sent a shiver through me, but I forced myself to remain still. No flinch, no reaction.

His fingers slid up my arm, his touch light, testing. When I didn't move, didn't respond, he sighed in frustration. I felt him lean closer, his breath warm against my neck as he whispered, "Scarlett..."

Still, I said nothing. My silence hung heavy between us, a wall he couldn't break through no matter how hard he tried.

Finally, he stood. I didn't turn to look at him, but I could feel the tension rolling off him in waves. He was angry now, his patience worn thin by my refusal to acknowledge him.

And good.

Let him be angry. Let him feel just a fraction of what I felt.

"I'm not sorry for what I did to Julian," he said coldly, his voice losing its soft edge. "He deserved it. And if he ever comes near you again, I'll make sure he regrets it even more."