Chapter 80 Terms of Surrender
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She had already braced herself for his answer, yet hearing the cold, unadorned truth still managed to send a fresh, sharp pang through Scarlett’s heart.
She stubbornly pressed Vincent, her voice tight. “Why? Why are you doing this?”
Vincent offered no explanation. He simply averted his gaze and stated dismissively, “No particular reason.”
Unable to decipher his motives and struggling to contain her rising frustration, Scarlett demanded, “What is it that you actually want from me, Vincent?”
Vincent remained silent for a long, heavy moment. Finally, his eyes met hers again. “Vanessa needs you,” he stated, as if that single sentence explained everything.
He had used this exact reasoning before, just prior to her being sent to the countryside-that Vanessa missed her cooking.
Suddenly, the pieces clicked into place for Scarlett. A flood of recent memories rushed back, providing a bitter context.
“So,” she began, her voice laced with cold understanding, “if I fulfill my role as Vanessa’s mother to your satisfaction, you will cease your attacks on my family?”
Vincent’s gaze remained steady on her. “Yes.”
The bluntness of his confirmation caught Scarlett off guard, stunning her into momentary silence. “Alright,” she finally acquiesced, the word tasting like ash.
Vincent’s reply was a noncommittal grunt. “Mm.”
Even after reaching this unsettling agreement, Scarlett felt no sense of security. She needed specifics. “How long will it take for you to lift the pressure from Nathan and Violet? When will their careers be safe?”
Vincent’s answer was deliberately vague, designed to keep her off-balance. “That depends entirely on your performance.”
Hearing this, the stark reality of her position settled over her-Vincent would always hold the power in their dynamic. He controlled the terms.
But she was backed into a corner, with no viable alternatives. A profound sense of helplessness washed over her as she silently accepted his conditions.
There seemed to be little left to discuss, yet Scarlett felt compelled to voice the question that had been gnawing at her. “Why have you been deliberately avoiding me ever since I returned? You wouldn’t even grant me a few minutes to discuss this.”
Vincent’s answer was another quiet, infuriating evasion. “No reason.”
He certainly couldn’t tell her the truth-that every time he looked at her, the image of her with Damian flashed in his mind, stirring a possessiveness and anger he refused to acknowledge.
But in the end, his reasons were irrelevant. He claimed there was none, and Scarlett lacked the energy to
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She simply looked at him, her expression solemn and resolute. “I am Vanessa’s mother. I will fulfill the responsibilities that come with that title. But that is all I will do.”
Her tone was flat and devoid of emotion, a stark contrast to the warmth and joy she had once radiated when speaking of their daughter.
Having said her piece, Scarlett stood up and walked purposefully toward the door.
Vincent watched her retreating figure, a nagging feeling that she had changed profoundly tugging at him, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact nature of the transformation.
Outside the private room, as Scarlett opened the door, she found Damian leaning casually against the doorframe. An unlit cigarette dangled from his fingers. His cool, assessing gaze was fixed on Daniel and Harris, who stood a short distance away, his posture radiating a confidence that suggested he could handle both of them single-handedly.
It was clear something had transpired in the hallway. Both Daniel and Harris looked thoroughly irritated and on edge.
Undoubtedly, a significant confrontation had occurred outside while Scarlett and Vincent were talking.
Judging by the territorial way Damian held the space, he had clearly emerged the victor in whatever exchange had taken place.
There was a time when Scarlett would have gone out of her way to be deferential to Daniel and Harris. Now, she found she couldn’t muster even a shred of regard for them.
Witnessing the visible frustration Damian had provoked in them afforded her a small, private sense of satisfaction.
She didn’t grant Daniel or Harris so much as a glance. Instead, she turned directly to Damian. “Mr. Langley, let’s go.”
Damian immediately stepped forward and wrapped a firm, possessive arm around Scarlett’s waist. He leaned in close, inhaling the faint, sweet scent of her shampoo as if savoring a rare perfume, his expression one of pure, unadulterated appreciation.
After a moment of this, he smirked and replied, “Anything you say, sweetheart.”
His proximity was overwhelming. Scarlett instinctively brought her hand up to push his arm away, but he only tightened his grip. “Come on, babe,” he murmured, his voice a low tease, “we’ve got an audience. Humor me a little, won’t you?”
Scarlett let her hand fall back to her side, resigning herself to his hold.
It’s just a body. And it’s only an arm around my waist. It means nothing.
But to Daniel and Harris, the sight of Damian holding Scarlett in such an intimate, claiming manner was a blatant and galling provocation.
Daniel, never one to filter his thoughts, was boiling over. He immediately spat out, “Utterly shameless.”
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Damian heard the insult but, instead of taking offense, he threw his head back and laughed, a loud, theatrical sound that seemed deliberately designed to escalate the tension.
Emboldened, Daniel suddenly shouted at Scarlett’s retreating back, “Scarlett! Do you have any idea how many women Damian has been with?”
Scarlett halted her steps but didn’t turn around. Her voice was eerily calm when she replied, “I have no idea, nor do I care to know.”
Daniel let out a derisive laugh and took a step closer. “You think shacking up with him will lead to a good life? Let me enlighten you-you’re just the latest rose in his endless garden. You’ll be discarded like all the others.”
Scarlett remained silent, refusing to be drawn into his taunts.
Daniel mistook her silence for scare. He was about to launch another verbal assault when Damian smoothly shifted position, placing himself squarely as a shield between Scarlett and Daniel.
He looked at Daniel with a mocking, raised eyebrow. “Well, well, Mr. Lennox. You seem to know an awful lot about my personal life. Tell me, am I one of the roses in your garden, too?”
Daniel shot him a venomous glare. “Who’s even talking to you?”
Damian’s amusement only seemed to grow. “What’s the matter? Did I strike a little too close to home?”
Daniel’s face darkened with pure fury. He barked out the name like a curse. “Damian!”
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Awakened Housewife: Ignore Betrayer’s Begs

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