Avery was buttering a piece of toast when the doorbell rang. The sound echoed through the cavernous dining room.
Julian was at the head of the table, reading a financial report. He didn't look up.
The butler opened the doors, and Scarlett breezed in. She was followed by three movers carrying Louis Vuitton trunks.
"Julian!" Scarlett exclaimed, her voice breathless. "I'm so sorry to intrude."
Julian lowered the paper. "What's going on?"
Scarlett bit her lip, looking up at him through her lashes. "My apartment... a pipe burst. It's flooded. I didn't know where else to go."
Avery took a bite of her toast. It tasted like cardboard.
"You can stay here," Julian said immediately.
Scarlett turned to Avery, a sweet, apologetic smile plastered on her face. "Avery, you don't mind, do you? It's just for a few days."
Avery didn't look at her. She kept her eyes on her plate. "It's Julian's house. Ask him."
Julian's jaw tightened. "Put her in the East Suite."
The knife in Avery's hand slipped, clattering against the china. The East Suite was her painting studio. It was the only room in the house that was truly hers.
"That's Avery's studio," the butler murmured hesitantly.
"She doesn't paint anymore," Julian said coldly, his eyes fixed on Avery, waiting for a reaction. Any reaction. "It has the best light in the house. Scarlett needs a cheerful environment. Clear it out."
Avery felt the bile rising in her throat. She pushed her plate away.
"You look pale, Avery," Scarlett noted, sitting down in the chair to Julian's right. "Still recovering from that little cold?"
"It's not a cold," Julian said, flipping a page of his report. "It's laziness. Which reminds me-I've put you on mandatory leave from the Sterling merger."
Avery's head snapped up. "That's my project. I've worked on it for six months."
"And you're running yourself into the ground," Julian countered, his voice brokering no argument. "I've brought in the K&L consulting team to oversee the finalization. They are the best in the world. They will ensure your family's legacy is secure while you... recover. Stop embarrassing me with your frailty."
Avery stared at him. He wasn't doing this to be kind. He was stripping her of her purpose. He was dismantling her life, piece by piece.
The smell of the bacon on the table suddenly became unbearable. Avery stood up, her hand flying to her mouth. She rushed out of the room, barely making it to the powder room down the hall before she retched.
She gripped the porcelain sink, her knuckles white. She dry-heaved, her stomach cramping violently.
She heard footsteps.
"Dramatic," a voice said from the doorway.
It was Scarlett. She was leaning against the frame, arms crossed.
"He thinks you're doing this for attention," Scarlett whispered. "He hates weak women."
Avery rinsed her mouth, spitting into the sink. She looked at Scarlett in the mirror. "Enjoy the studio, Scarlett. The lighting is terrible in the afternoon."
Scarlett's smile faltered for a second. "You think you're clever. But you're just a placeholder. You always were."
"And you're a liar," Avery said, turning to face her. "Tell me, Scarlett, how are you going to enjoy the Jacuzzi in that suite? You always seem so... terrified of the sound of rushing water. Strange for a hero who swam into a riptide."
Scarlett's face went rigid. Before she could respond, Julian walked into the hallway.
Scarlett immediately sagged, putting a hand to her chest. "I was just checking on her, Julian. She... she said some awful things."
Julian stepped between them. He placed a hand on Scarlett's back and glared at Avery.
"Don't take your failures out on her," he warned. "Go upstairs. I don't want to see you until dinner."
