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<b>Chapter </b><b>114 </b>
(Virginia’s POV)
The door closes behind him with a soft click that sounds like a gunshot in the silence. I stand frozen in the middle of my room, staring at the space where he just stood.
“It doesn’t matter whether I like it or not.”
The words echo in my head, each repetition cutting deeper than thest. I spent days nning this room. Choosing every fabric, every piece of furniture. I wanted it to be perfect for when he saw it. I wanted him to see how far I’vee, how worthy I am now.
But he looked at it all like it was nothing. Like I was nothing.
My legs give out, and I sink onto the silkforter, my hands shaking. The designer pillows that cost more than most people’s monthly rent feel cold against my back. Everything in this room is cold. Beautiful and expensive and meaningless.
Just like me.
I look across the room at themp sitting on my nightstand. That stupid twelve–dormp that I’ve treasured for five years like it was made of gold. It looks so pathetic surrounded by all this luxury now. So out of ce.
Just like me.
“Why does this keep happening?” I whisper to the empty room. “What does she have that I don’t?”
The silence mocks me. Even in my own space, my own sanctuary, Lcan’t escape the truth. Jasper will never
look at me the way he looks at her. Never feel for me what he feels for Scarlett.
”
The tears start slowly, just a few drops that I wipe away quickly. I don’t cry. I haven’t cried since I was twelve
and realized that crying doesn’t make people love you. It just makes them ufortable.
It was a tool best used for maniption, not expression.
But tonight, alone in this prison James bought me, I can’t hold back the tears anymore.
Theye in waves, years of rejection and longing pouring out of me. I sob into my hands, my whole body shaking with the force of it. All the careful control I’ve maintained, all the sweet masks I’ve worn, crumble away until there’s nothing left but raw, desperate need.
“Why? Why can’t you see me?”
I thought money would be enough. I thought if I had what she had–the house, the clothes, the parents who adore me he would finally see me, notice me. That he’d realize I’m worthy of being loved too.
But Scarlett doesn’t have any of that now. She lives in a tiny apartment and runs a small bakery. She drives an old car and wears simple clothes. Her parents cast aside to keep me happy, and still…
Still, he loves her.
<b>I </b>stumble to the window, pressing my palms against the cool ss. Through the tears, I can see Dorian’s house. Light spills from the windows, warm and golden.
< Chapter 114
$25 Plu
Jasper thinks I don’t know. But I saw her car the second it pulled up. Since then, he’s been lost in thoughts of
her.
Inside, she’s probablyughing with Dorian’s family, Being weed and cherished the way she always has
been.
The way I am never weed. Or loved.
“What is it?” I whisper again, my breath fogging the ss. “What is it that she has that I don’t? I have everything now. Status, money, parents who worship me. So why is it still her? Why is it always her?”
But even as I ask the question, part of me knows the answer. It’s not about what she has. It’s about who she is. Scarlett has something I’ve never possessed, no matter how hard I’ve tried to fake it.
She has a kind heart. A strong spirit. And the courage to love or walk away.
The realization bends me to my knees. All my scheming, all my maniption, all the ways I’ve tried to tear her down–they’ve only managed to magnify her good qualities, while highlighting my dark heart.
Jasper must’ve realized…I’m not worthy of the love I crave.
I press my forehead against the window, breakingpletely
(Scarlett’s POV) <fn2e1e> Checktest chapters at Find~Novel</fn2e1e>
“Higher, Elena! Higher!”
Lily’s delightedughter carries across thewn as Elena pushes her on the swing set. I watch from the patio,
a cup of tea growing cold in my hands, and feel something ease in my chest. Thest time Lily was this happy was…
I shake my head, chasing away the images of the Christmas celebration, and focus back on Lily and Elena.
“She’s a natural grandmother.”
“She really is.”
I turn to find Margaret, Dorian’s aunt, settling into the chair beside me. Her earlier coolness seems to have thawed during lunch, and now she’s watching Lily with something approaching fondness.
“Elena lost her own daughter young,” Margaret says quietly. “Car ident when Dorian was fifteen. She’s never gotten over it.”
My heart clenches. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Not many people do. The Cross family doesn’t talk about painful things. We just buy expensive things and pretend that fixes everything.” She gives me a meaningful look. “Sound familiar?”
I think about the house where I grew up, about James and ir buying Virginia a mansion to ease their guilt. “More than you know.”
“Thought so.” Margaret sips her wine. “You have that look. Like someone who knows what it’s like to be reced.”
“Margaret-” I start, but she waves me off.
“I’m not prying. Just observing. And what I observe is that Elena hasn’t looked this happy since Stephanie
died.”
I watch Elena catch Lily at the bottom of the slide, both <i>of </i>them dissolving into giggles. There’s such joy on Elena’s face, such pure delight in making my daughter smile. It reminds me of ir when I was small, before everything gotplicated.
“I haven’t been this peaceful in a long while either,” I admit.
Margaret nods knowingly. “The Cross family can do that. We’re not <i>good </i>at loving people, and even when we do, we’re terrible at showing it. But we have a reputation for looking out <i>for </i>one another.”
“Is that why Dorian’s still single? Because you’re all terrible at showing love?”
“Partly.” Margaret’s smile turns sad. “But mostly because he’s been waiting for someone who isn’t interested in him for his money or his name.”
The weight of her words settles over me. “And you think that’s me?”
“I think you’re the only one who fits the bill so far. After all, not everyone turns down an opportunity to expand their business.”
Before I can respond, Elena and Lilye racing over, both breathless and flushed with excitement.
“Mama, did you see how high I went?” Lilyunches herself into myp. “Grandma Elena says we cane back tomorrow and make cookies together!”
“Did she now?” I smooth Lily’s wild curls, meeting Elena’s warm gaze over her head.
“Only if it’s alright with you, of course.” Elena settles into the chair across from me, looking suddenly uncertain. “I don’t want to overstep.”
“You’re not overstepping. Lily would love that.”
“What about you?” Elena asks quietly. “Would you love it?”
The question catches me off guard. Not just the words, but the way she asks them. Almost as if expecting something.
Violet Moon
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