Page 29

Okay.
I arrived at Amélie just as the last of her staff was leaving.
I could see Scarlett moving behind the bar, wiping down the counter with slow, precise movements.
Too precise. Like she was trying to keep herself from falling apart.
I pushed open the door, and the soft chime echoed in the empty space. She looked up, eyes guarded.
“You saw it,” she said. It wasn’t a question.
I strode toward her, slipping my hands into my pockets to keep from reaching for her. “Yeah.”
Scarlett let out a breath, setting the rag aside. “I knew something like this might happen,” she admitted. “The moment I signed a deal with you, I knew people would have something to say.”
She gave a hollow laugh. “I just didn’t think it would be this vicious.”
I stepped closer, resting my palms against the counter. “We’re going to handle it.”
Her eyes searched mine. “Christian, this isn’t your fight.”
“The hell it isn’t.” The words came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t take them back.
I continued, “This partnership isn’t just about business, Scarlett. You know that.”
A flicker of something crossed her face—hesitation, maybe. Hope.
I softened my voice. “Whoever’s behind this isn’t just trying to ruin you. They want to destroy everything you’ve built.” My jaw tensed. “And I’m not going to let that happen.”
She swallowed, the mask of composure she’d been clinging to slipping for just a second.
I reached across the bar, brushing my fingers against hers. A subtle touch. An anchor. “Scarlett.”
She inhaled, then let it out slowly. “I don’t know how to fight something like this.”
“Lucky for you, I do.”
A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips. “Of course you do.”
I held her gaze. “I’ll have my legal team handle Luxe Dining. In the meantime, I want you to focus on Amélie. You don’t have to deal with this alone.”
She nodded, but I could see the tension still lingering in her posture, the weight pressing on her.
“There’s more,” she admitted. “Some of my suppliers are pulling out.”
That sent a fresh bolt of anger through me.
“They’re claiming it’s ‘contractual conflicts,’ but we both know that’s bullshit.” She exhaled. “If this keeps up, I won’t have the ingredients I need to keep the restaurant running at full capacity.”
My hand curled into a fist against the counter.
Whoever wanted to smear Scarlett’s reputation wasn’t just playing dirty—they was going for the throat.
Trying to bleed Scarlett out before she had a chance to fight back.
Scarlett chewed on her bottom lip, her fingers gripping the edge of the counter. “Christian, if this gets any worse?—”
“It won’t.” My voice was firm. “I won’t let it.”