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Scarlett could feel his agitation, the restlessness coming off him in waves. Even as he sped through intersections, her face stayed still.
But her hand moved instinctively to the handle above the door.
Vincent’s expression was cold. He caught the motion from the corner of his eye. He knew she was scared. He still didn’t slow down.
Right now, he was worried about another woman.
When the car stopped at the entrance of Stewart Manor, the butler and a few staff members came out to greet them.
“Mr. and Mrs. Stewart. You’re finally here.”
Vincent’s face was grim. He didn’t say a word.
Scarlett stepped out of the car and heard the butler’s greeting. She forced a faint smile. “Yeah.”
The moment she spoke, Vincent’s voice cut through. “There’s stuff in the trunk. Bring it inside.”
He was ordering the staff around, his tone sharper than usual.
The butler and the others exchanged a look, then moved silently to unload the car.
Scarlett tried to help, but one of the staff waved her off.
Vincent walked ahead, his strides long, almost urgent.
Scarlett followed behind, step by slow step, dragging herself through the gates of Stewart
Manor.
When she walked through the front door, the living room was full of people.
It was Christmas Eve–all the Stewarts had come home.
Not just Amanda and Lucy, but Xavier, Richard…
No sign of Luke or Vanessa.
When Scarlett walked in, Xavier was playing chess with Richard, Amanda was bustling around in the kitchen.
Lucy was scrolling through her tablet.
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At the sound of footsteps, everyone in the room turned to look at Scarlett.
Xavier smiled. “Scarlett. You’re here.”
Scarlett nodded. “Yes.”
Richard glanced at her and said nothing.
Lucy set down her tablet. “Hey, Scarlett! Come sit with me.”
She scooted over on the couch to make room.
Scarlett smiled at her but didn’t say anything.
A staff member placed the things Vincent had bought on the coffee table and left.
Vincent had gone straight upstairs the second he walked in.
So Scarlett was alone.
She stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room for a few seconds, then finally moved toward Lucy.
But before she could sit, Amanda came out of the kitchen. She was wearing an apron, her hands greasy, her hair pulled back messily.
The moment she saw Scarlett, her eyes lit up. “Oh, you’re here. Good timing. We’re about to start cooking. You do it.”
As she spoke, Amanda started untying her
apron.
She walked over to Scarlett and shoved the apron into her hands. “Go on, Don’t waste time.”
Scarlett didn’t take it. Instead, she stepped aside.
The apron slipped from Amanda’s hands and landed on the floor. Amanda’s face flushed red.
“Scarlett, what’s your problem? You knew we had a family dinner tonight, and you still couldn’t be bothered to come back early and help. Now I’m asking you to cook, and this is the attitude you give me?”
Scarlett glanced at her and shrugged. “It’s not my family’s dinner. Why would I come back early to help?”
Amanda was seething. “Who taught you to talk to me like that?”
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Scarlett looked almost amused. “This is just how I talk.”
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Lucy felt the tension spike. She quickly stood up and pulled Amanda aside. “Mom, look, I don’t help with any of this either. Scarlett’s a Stewart by marriage, but she’s still family. It’s not a big deal if she doesn’t do these things.”
Amanda shoved Lucy’s arm away. “You said it yourself–she’s a Stewart by marriage, not a Stewart by blood. Look at me. I do all of this. Why does she get to waltz in here and do nothing?”
Lucy grabbed her hand. “Mom. We have staff. No one’s forcing you to do it either. You don’t have to run yourself ragged.”
Amanda snapped, “You’re talking back to me now?”
Lucy muttered under her breath, “I’m just saying.”
Amanda swatted her on the hip. “Go read your book. Get out of my face. I don’t want the kitchen grease sticking to you.”
Lucy wrinkled her nose. “Mom. Just stop. Come watch TV with us.”
Amanda opened her mouth to retort, but Xavier’s voice cut through. “Whatever Lucy says, you do. What’s the point of arguing?”
Amanda dropped her gaze. “Yes, Xavier.”
Xavier turned his attention back to Richard. “Come on. Let’s keep playing.”
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