Awakened Housewife Ignore Betrayer's Begs (Scarlett) novel Chapter 38

Chapter 38 Impulsive Justice

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Those two had no shame at all-they didn’t even bother closing the curtains. Did they have no self-respect left?

But what really made Scarlett furious was that Elias had promised to come home for dinner. That poor, naive Claire was probably still waiting for him like a fool loyal as ever.

Scarlett snapped a photo fast, then dialed Claire’s number.

“Scarlett? What’s going on?” Claire picked up right away but her voice sounded tight.

“Has Elias gotten home yet?” Scarlett asked.

“No,” Claire said. “He said he had work stuff to take care of. He’ll be back tonight.”

Work stuff? So this is what Elias called “work”?

Scarlett felt terrible for Claire. After hanging up, she marched straight into the steakhouse without a second thought.

A waiter tried to stop her, asking who she was looking for—but Scarlett just pushed past him, her face dark with anger.

Elias was so wrapped up flirting with that flashy woman he didn’t even see Scarlett coming. Before he could react, a glass of wine went flying across his face-followed by a sharp, stinging slap.

Scarlett hadn’t held back. The impact left her own palm tingling.

The woman next to him let out a shriek or two, then shrank back in fear.

Elias finally snapped out of his stunned paralysis. He shot up from his chair so abruptly it nearly toppled backward, finger jabbing violently toward Scarlett. “Scarlett, what the hell is wrong with you?!” he yelled, his voice cracking with rage and disbelief.

Scarlett didn’t flinch, meeting his furious gaze with a glare of pure contempt. “Elias, don’t you know exactly what you’ve done?” she shot back, her voice cold and sharp. “You actually have the nerve to stand there and ask me that question?”

Elias was visibly rattled. His eyes darted around the room nervously before he whirled on the frozen waiter. “What’s your problem?” he barked, attempting to regain some control. “I’m a paying customer here, and you just let some lunatic walk in and assault me?”

The restaurant staff were still processing the shocking scene when Elias shouted, “Go get security! Now! Get this crazy woman out of here!”

Scarlett didn’t give him the satisfaction. “I’ve got two perfectly good legs,” she stated coldly. “I can find my own way out. Don’t bother having anyone ‘show me the loor.”

With that, she turned sharply on her heel and headed for the exit.

But Elias wasn’t ready to let it end there. “You slap me across the face, you dump an entire glass of wine all over me, and you think you can just walk away like nothing happened?” he called after her, his voice rising with indignant fury. “Scarlett, you really think it’s going to be that easy?”

Scarlett ignored him completely, continuing her steady walk out of the restaurant as every pair of eyes in

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the establishment followed her departure.

She hadn’t even made it to the vibrant snack stalls lining the street outside when a police car smoothly pulled up, blocking her path.

Two officers emerged, flashing their badges with professional efficiency. One showed her a clear video recording of her slapping Elias right on his screen.

In the end, there was nothing she could do but comply as they escorted her into the back of the police car.

After giving her formal statement at the station, Scarlett was held for what felt like an eternity-eight long hours in a cold, sterile holding cell.

It wasn’t until nine o’clock that evening that an officer finally appeared at the cell door. The metallic clang of the lock turning echoed in the small space. “Scarlett,” he said, “someone has posted bail for you. You’re free

to go.”

Someone had bailed her out?

Was it Claire who had come through for her?

Or had someone from the Theron family intervened?

Scarlett didn’t bother asking. She simply stood up, her body stiff from hours of inactivity, and said quietly, “Thank you.”

Then she walked out of the confining cell, the heavy door closing behind her with a sense of finality.

As she entered the main lobby of the police station, her eyes immediately landed on a figure who looked profoundly out of place amidst the grim, institutional surroundings.

It was Vincent.

He stood near the entrance in an impeccably tailored sult that accentuated his tall, lean frame-like a living mannequin. The dress pants emphasized his long legs; he was undeniably handsome.

But in other ways, he’d never given Scarlett much to brag about. Sabrina, though? She was probably living a fairy tale with him.

He’d heard Scarlett’s footsteps long before she came into view. When she still didn’t show up right away, Vincent turned and said in a flat voice, “Let’s go.”

His tone was neutral, and his face gave nothing away.

Scarlett couldn’t have cared less what he thought of her Yeah, she’d acted on impulse when she hit Elias- but she had zero regrets.

“Mm,” she answered, sounding indifferent as she walked straight past him toward the exit.

She wasn’t the same person anymore-no longer hoping to walk beside him, no longer wanting to hold his hand. Now, he was just Vincent, and she was just Scarlet

Vincent’s luxury car was parked at the curb, but Scarlett showed no intention of getting in. She raised her hand to hail a taxi, but Vincent opened the passenger door. “Get in. There’s something I need to discuss with you.”

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Chapter 38 Impulsive Justice

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Scarlett lowered her hand but bypassed the front seat entirely, opening the rear door instead and sliding in.

Vincent looked taken aback for a second. He’d never seen her act like this before-even though he knew this was exactly what she’d always wanted.

Now that he was finally offering it, she seemed totally uninterested. For a moment, he felt a weird, disorienting twist in his chest.

After a short pause, he slid into the back seat too.

Scarlett’s brows furrowed a little when he sat next to her. It had been ages since they’d been this close.

Vincent smoked, but he always wore cologne-so his smell still came off nice.

They sat there in silence, the tension in the air growing thicker by the second.

Vincent rolled down the window a crack and lit up a cigarette.

The smoke drifted over to Scarlett, and she started coughing over and over again.

Unable to bear it, she reached for the door to get out, but Vincent suddenly caught her arm.

His grip wasn’t forceful, and Scarlett didn’t struggle. She simply settled back into her seat.

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