Chapter 36
Ashton strode toward me, his expression dark with displeasure. “Scarlett, is this how you were brought up?”
His hand clamped around my wrist, his grip like iron. I lifted my head, meeting his icy gaze head-on. A humorless smile tugged at my lips. “You’re talking to me about upbringing? Ashton Fuller, what exactly is your version of a good upbringing? Ignoring your wife’s feelings while you dote on another woman? Is that it?”
His face darkened further, but I wasn’t done. “Or do you mean Rebecca is a paragon of virtue? A woman who openly covets another’s husband, playing the victim while sinking her claws into what isn’t hers? Just what kind of upbringing taught you to turn a blind eye to that?”
“Scarlett!” His grip tightened painfully, his jaw clenched. “You should feel lucky I don’t hit women.”
I let out a short, bitter laugh, ignoring the pain in my wrist. “How noble of you, Mr. Fuller. But perhaps you could do me a favor and let go? Crushing a woman’s wrist isn’t far off from hitting her.”
His nostrils flared with anger, but he finally flung my hand away. “Don’t act like you know Rebecca. You’re not worthy of judging her!”
Not worthy? The words stung, igniting something reckless inside me. I stormed forward and grabbed his arm, my voice laced with venom. “You’re right. I can’t compare to Rebecca. She’s in a league of her own—an expert in manipulation and hypocrisy. I could never reach her level. And you? You’re nothing but her willing fool.”
Without waiting for his reaction, I turned on my heel and marched back into the restaurant. Rebecca and Joe were still seated at the table, her face a mask of feigned innocence.
“Scarlett…” she began, her voice honeyed with pretense.
I silenced her with a glare. Without hesitation, I picked up the bowl of pumpkin soup and dumped it over her head. The thick liquid dripped down her perfect curls, staining her delicate dress.
A collective gasp filled the restaurant, but I didn’t care.
Lowering my voice so only she could hear, I said coldly, “I don’t know what made you into such a conniving little actress, but let me remind you—karma doesn’t play favorites. Enjoy the show while it lasts because one day, the curtain will fall on you.”
Straightening, I added with a smirk, “Since you enjoy second-hand goods so much, take him. I couldn’t care less. Just make sure to keep an eye on him, or he might start sleeping around. How disgusting.”
“Scarlett!” An enraged voice boomed from the entrance.
I didn’t even flinch. What did I care if Ashton was furious? I had played nice for too long.
Spinning on my heel, I strode out of the restaurant. But before I could reach the door, Ashton grabbed my arm in a bruising grip. Without thinking, I sank my teeth into his wrist, hoping he’d release me.
He didn’t. Instead, he scooped me up and threw me into his car like I weighed nothing.
The entire drive was a blur of reckless speed and sharp turns. My stomach churned from the jarring ride, nausea bubbling up. Just as I thought I might throw up, the car screeched to a stop.
Before I could react, Ashton hauled me out and carried me into the villa. His fury radiated off him in waves.
Bang! The door slammed shut behind us, the sound reverberating through the house.
“Let me go!” I thrashed in his arms. “Ashton Fuller, you are a sorry excuse for a man!”
His sneer sent a chill down my spine. Pinning me against the wall, his hand wrapped around my throat—not enough to cut off my air completely, but enough to warn me. “A sorry excuse for a man? A wandering eye? I’m disgusting?” His voice was low, dangerous.
His grip tightened slightly, his pupils dark with something unreadable. “You really surprise me, Scarlett.”
My lungs burned as I struggled for air. Desperate, I kicked out at him, my nails digging into his wrist. But he didn’t let go.
Our gazes locked in a silent battle, neither of us willing to break first.
Then, just when my vision started to blur from lack of oxygen, he suddenly released me—only to crush his lips against mine.
I gasped, my chest heaving with rage and desperation. “Bullying women—is that the only thing you’re good at?”
He smirked, his gaze darkening. Panic swelled in me as I saw the raw, unchecked emotion lurking in his eyes.
“You can’t do this, Ashton!” My voice trembled, fear finally creeping in.
Ignoring me, he pressed closer. “Be a good girl. I’ll be gentle.”
Bastard.
Something inside me shattered. Everything I had endured—all the pain, all the humiliation—spilled over in a torrent of silent sobs.