<i>Virginia’s </i><i>POV </i>
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The phone slips from my trembling fingers, ttering against the marble floor of my bedroom. On the screen, post after post defends that pathetic little bakery. My bakery attack -months of nning, fake ounts, bribes to get people to im food poisoning–all ruined in less than twenty–four hours.
“Sunrise Bakes cleared of all charges.”
“Community supports local baker after false usations.”
“Health Department: Bakery exceeds all safety standards.”
My chest burns with rage. Someone with serious pull organized this counter–attack. Someone who cares enough about Scarlett to move mountains for her. The question eating
at me is who?
I snatch my phone off the floor and call the one person who owes me favors.
“Marcus? The n failed. Someone got the health department to rush the testing.”
“Virginia, I told you this was risky—”
“I don’t want excuses. I need damage control.” My voice shakes with barely controlled fury. “Delete everything. The fake ounts, the posts, all of it.”
“Some are already gone. Whoever’s helping her found the connections between the
ounts.”
Panic ws at my throat. If they can trace the ounts back to me…
“Delete them all. Now.”
But it’s toote. The damage is done in reverse. Instead of destroying Scarlett, I’ve made her a local hero. Themunity darling who overcame sabotage through pure goodness and quality baking.
I want to scream.
Instead, I pace my room like a caged animal, mind racing. The attention–that’s what terrifies me most. Local news picking up the story. “Small Business Fights Back” headlines. What if Jasper sees it? What if he recognizes her name and decides to investigate?
Four years. Four years I’ve had him to myself, convincing him that Scarlett abandoned him,
–
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that she never really loved him. If he finds out she’s been here all along, building a life, raising
his daughter…
My hands shake as I dial his assistant’s number.
“ke Industries, this is Sarah.”
“Sarah, hi! It’s Virginia.” I force sweetness into my voice, the same tone that’s fooled everyone for years. “I need a tiny favor.”
“Of course, Ms. Stone. What can I do for you?”
“Jasper’s been working so hardtely. I was thinking maybe he needs a getaway? That conference in Seattle he mentioned, or maybe the resort in Colorado?”
“That’s thoughtful of you to look out for him.”
“Also…” I hesitate, making it sound casual. “You know how he reads those local news articles during coffee? Maybe focus his morning briefings on national business news instead? All those local stories just stress him out.”
“I could set up some filters on his news apps. Keep things more streamlined.”
“Perfect. You’re an angel.”
After hanging up, I stare at my reflection in the vanity mirror. Dark circles under my eyes, worry lines I didn’t have a week ago. This is what Scarlett has done to me. Even from a distance, she’s destroying my peace.
But filtering Jasper’s news won’t be enough. He has clients, colleagues, business lunches. Someone will mention the bakery story eventually.
I grab myptop and start researching. Digital marketing firms that can bury search results. Social mediapanies that track keywords. By the time I’m finished, I’ve hired three different agencies to suppress any story mentioning “Sunrise Bakes” or “Scarlett.”
It costs a fortune, but James gave me unlimited ess to the family ounts. Money I was supposed <i>to </i>use for “settling in” and “building my new life.”
Well, destroying Scarlett’s life is part of building mine.
But even as I work, dread pools in my stomach. This isn’t sustainable. I can’t control every conversation, every news source, every chance encounter forever.
The only real solution is making Scarlett disappear. Permanently this time.
<i>Scarlett’s </i><i>POV </i>
:
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“Scarlett?” ir’s voice shakes through the phone speaker. “Please don’t hang up. I know you hate us, but-”
My throat closes. Four years, and her voice still sounds like home. Still makes me want to curl up and let someone else handle the world for a while.
“I don’t hate you,” I whisper before I can stop myself.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Her voice breaks. “Are you okay? Are you safe? I’ve worried every single day
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“You worried?” The wordse out harsher than I intended. “You chose Virginia. You made that very clear.”
“We made mistakes. Terrible mistakes. But you’re still our daughter-<b>” </b>
“No.” I cut her off, my chest burning. “Virginia is your daughter. You told me that yourself.”
“You’re both our daughters.”
“Stop.” I can’t do this. Can’t let her pull me back into caring. “What do you want?”
Silence stretches between us. Then, so quietly I almost miss it: “To know if you had the baby.”
My hand instinctively moves to cover Lily, even though she’s across the room coloring. “That’s none of your business anymore.”
“Please. Just… are you happy? Are you both safe?”
The genuine pain in her voice almost breaks me. Almost. But I remember that night too clearly. The way they looked at Virginia like she was a miracle and at me like I was the obstacle preventing their family reunion.
“Goodbye, ir.”
I hang up and immediately block the number. Whatever guilt they’re feeling now, whatever regret–it’s four years toote.
“Who was that, Mama?” Lily looks up from her coloring book, crayon poised over a purple butterfly.
“Nobody important.”
But my hands won’t stop shaking.. That voice brought everything flooding back. The love I thought was forever. The family I thought was mine. The life that crumbled the second their real daughter came home.
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My phone buzzes again. This time it’s Chloe, and I answer gratefully.
“Girl! Have you seen the news coverage?”
“What news coverage?”
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“You’re famous! Channel 7 picked up your story. ‘Local Baker Ovees Sabotage with Community Support.‘ You’re trending on social media!”
My stomach drops. “That’s not good news, Chloe.”
“Are you insane? This is amazing publicity. Your bakery’s going to be packed.”
She’s right, but publicity is dangerous. The more attention I get, the higher the chance someone from my past will notice.
“I cane help today if you’re reopening,” Chloe continues. “Seems like you’ll <i>need </i>extra
hands.”
<b>“</b>Actually, yes. And Chloe?” My voice catches. “Thank you. For believing in me when nobody
else did.”
“That’s what best friends do. Speaking of which…” Her tone shifts to that matchmaking voice I know too well. “That Dorian guy? The one who saved your bakery?”
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes. Rich, powerful, obviously crazy about you, and from what I saw, gorgeous. You need to go out with him.”
“I’m not ready for dating.”
“It’s been four years, Scarlett. You’re allowed to be happy.”
Be happy. Like it’s a choice I can just make. Like I can forget four years of marriage to a man who chose another woman every single day.
“He fought for you<b><i>,</i></b><i>” </i>Chloe presses. “When was thest time any man did that?”
Never. Jasper never fought for me. Not once.
“I don’t know…”
“One coffee. That’s all I’m asking. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Famousst words. But looking around my empty bakery, thinking about starting over again,
part of me wants to try. Not romance–I’m nowhere near ready for that. But kindness?
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Someone who sees me as worth protecting?
“Maybe,” I concede.
“That’s my girl! I’ll text him right now.”
“Chloe, don’t-”
But she’s already hung up, and I know she’s already typing that text.
Twenty minutester, Dorian calls.
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“I hear Chloe has opinions about our friendship,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.
Heat floods my face. “I’m sorry. She means well, but-”
“She’s protective. I respect that.” His voice turns serious. “Scarlett, I want you <i>to </i>know there’s no pressure. If you’d like coffee sometime, as friends, I’d enjoy that. If not, nothing changes. I’ll still be your customer, still be someone you can call.”
The honesty in his voice catches me off guard. No games, no maniption. Just straightforward interest with clear boundaries.
“Coffee sounds nice,” I hear myself say.
“Saturday afternoon? There’s a café downtown with decent pastries–though nothingpared to yours.”
“Saturday works.”
After we hang up, I stare at my phone in shock. Did I just agree to a date? My first since… since before Jasper.
The thought terrifies and thrills me,
I flip the bakery sign from “Closed” to “Open,” and my phone buzzes immediately.
Unknown number: “Saw the news coverage. Very impressive. Enjoy your moment in the spotlight.”
My blood turns to ice. The writing style, the fake sweetness–I know exactly who this is.
Virginia.