Chapter 2

Scarlett's POV

The door clicked open.

Lucas walked in wearing a tailored black suit. Even in a room thick with the stench of antiseptic, his aloof, pristine aura didn't fade an ounce.

He had striking features: a sharp brow, a straight nose, and deep-set eyes that always seemed brimming with quiet devotion, even when he felt nothing at all.

Once upon a time, I drowned in those very eyes.

His personal assistant trailed behind him, carrying a sleek black leather briefcase.

"You're awake?" Lucas approached the bed, putting on an expression of deep concern.

He reached out to cup my uninjured left cheek. "Does your hand still hurt?"

In my past life, I would have thrown myself into his arms, biting back the tears and forcing a brave smile just to keep him from worrying.

This time, I tilted my head away, coldly dodging his touch.

Lucas's hand froze in midair. His brow twitched with a flicker of irritation, though his practiced mask smoothed it over almost instantly.

"Scarlett, don't be difficult," Lucas said, pulling his hand back with an undercurrent of authority. He gave his assistant a look.

The assistant stepped forward at once, pulling a document from the briefcase and setting it before me, uncapping a fountain pen.

Lucas pulled up a chair, crossed his legs, and rested his gaze on my pale face.

"The doctor said the damage is severe. Extensive nerve trauma. You won't be able to handle intricate, high-intensity drafting ever again. I'm heartbroken, but we have to face reality. This is our prenuptial agreement. It's also my lifelong promise to you."

I didn't pick up the pen. My eyes drifted coldly over the paperwork.

Bold text leaped out from the top page. I didn't even need to read it to know what it said:

"Party B agrees to unconditionally terminate all commercial jewelry design ventures post-marriage."

"Party B agrees to align with Party A's public image and shall not conduct media interviews without prior approval."

"Party A will establish a dedicated trust fund to ensure Party B is provided for throughout her lifetime."

Every single line sounded like devotion, but it was nothing more than the blueprints for a gilded cage!

"Sign it,"

Lucas said, his tone turning gentle. "You can focus on resting and healing at home from now on. I'll take care of you. You won't have to face the stress of the outside world ever again. As my wife, your only job is to stay happy and wait for me to come home."

What a sweet little fairy tale.

I laughed out loud.

I laughed at how utterly blind I had been in my past life to mistake suffocating control for love.

Without a word, I reached out with my left hand and picked up the contract.

Watching me take the papers, a trace of smug satisfaction flickered in Lucas's eyes.

A split second later, that satisfaction froze solid.

*Riiiip—*

The sharp, violent sound of tearing paper shattered the quiet room.

Using my left hand and my teeth, I ripped the prenup clean in half.

Then again. And again.

Tearing thick paper with one hand was clumsy and awkward, but every rip carried raw, venomous fury. Scraps of white paper fluttered down like cheap confetti, scattering across the sheets and the floor.

"Scarlett! What the hell are you doing?!" Lucas bolted out of his chair, roaring in disbelief.

Beside him, the assistant stood petrified, holding his breath.

I gathered the last handful of shredded paper and threw it right at Lucas's designer trousers. Looking up, the devotion and adoration that used to fill my eyes were completely replaced by arctic frost.

"What am I doing? Are you blind?"

My voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the air with razor precision. "Lucas, the wedding is off."

The room plunged into dead silence.

Lucas stared down at me as if looking at a total stranger.

"Do you have any idea what you're saying?"

Lucas's voice dropped low, vibrating with suppressed anger. "Scarlett, I don't appreciate you joking about this. You saved me. I'm grateful, and I'm ready to spend the rest of my life taking care of you. But you need to rein in this attitude."

"Gratitude? Taking care of me?" I let out a mocking laugh.

"Lucas, do you honestly think putting a roof over my head means I should fall to my knees in worship? Every single word on this paper tells me you don't want a wife. You want a brainless, career-less doll who needs your permission just to step outside the front door!"

I took a deep breath, forcing down the acid burning in my throat.

"You want a caged bird? Fine. Doesn't your little starlet, Chloe, love playing the pet? Doesn't she cling to you every single day, batting her eyelashes? Take this trash to her. She'll probably cry tears of joy and drop to her knees to thank you. Go keep her in a cage and keep your sickening games away from me."

I watched Lucas's eyes shift.

"Scarlett, what does Chloe have to do with any of this?"

His expression darkened completely. "Chloe is an artist signed to my agency, and she works hard. Stop taking your professional frustrations out on your personal life, and stop throwing these childish tantrums."

"Childish tantrums?" I leaned back against the pillows. "Lucas, my right hand is ruined. It got crushed because I shoved you out of the way of that lighting rig. And you walk in here with a contract stripping away my entire career, telling me to stop throwing tantrums?"

I pointed my left hand toward the door. "Get out. Take your pathetic pity and get the hell out."

Lucas stood rooted to the floor, his fists clenched tight at his sides.

He drew a long breath.

"You're not in your right mind right now, Scarlett. Your hand is going to need long-term physical therapy and rehab. You can't handle this on your own."

"I'll give you time to calm down. Once you're done acting out, I'll come back."

With that, he turned and stormed toward the exit, his back straight and composed, though his hurried stride looked more like an escape.

The assistant hurriedly scooped up the scattered briefcase and scrambled out behind him.

The door clicked shut.

I stared at the empty doorway, pure disgust washing through my chest.

Calm down? I had never been more lucid in my entire life.

I wasn't just calling off the engagement. I was going to make Lucas realize that losing me meant the rest of his life would never know peace again.

I looked down at my bandaged right hand, my expression hardening into stone.

"You think you ruined me?" I whispered, a dark smirk pulling at the corners of my lips. "Let's see who destroys who first."