Let Me Go, Mr. Howard Chapter 10

"That's good to hear." George's tone remained severe. "You WILL marry Edith! This was decided long ago!"

The call ended abruptly, leaving only a dial tone.

Sebastian set down his phone and glanced at the corner of his desk where a thin file lay. The cover was blank, but inside were all the private investigator's findings on how Brianna had paid off Lucas.

He flipped through it briefly before quietly pushing the file deep into his drawer and returning to work.

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At the Seymour Villa, the door of Scarlett's attic was thrust open, stirring up dust that made Edith cough twice.

She carried a gilded hanger with an ivory white gown hanging from it. The crystal embroidery caught the dim light of the attic, casting harsh reflections.

She wrinkled her nose in disgust, covering it with a handkerchief. "This place is a dump. No wonder you're so gloomy all the time."

Scarlett kept her eyes on her book without looking up. "What do you want?"

"What do you think?" Edith lifted the dress. "See what this is?"

The gown's neckline was adorned with delicate pearls, its waist embroidered with intertwining lotus patterns—clearly expensive.

Scarlett's gaze lingered on it for half a second before she answered flatly, "Your engagement dress."

"At least you have taste." Edith puffed up proudly. "Seb had it specially brought back from Seraphim. I'll wear it for our engagement photos next week."

She suddenly shifted tone, eyeing Scarlett. "You look about my size. Try it on for me."

The attic was cramped, and Edith's perfume mixed with the disturbed dust made Scarlett feel suffocated.

She closed her book. "No thanks."

"You dare refuse me?" Edith's expression darkened as she grabbed Scarlett's arm. "It's an honor to let you try it. Many would kill for the chance to even touch this dress!"

Scarlett stumbled backward, colliding with the old wardrobe behind her. She recognized the malice in Edith's eyes—she simply wanted Scarlett to put on something that wasn't hers, then crush whatever dignity she had left.

"Fine. I'll try it," Scarlett suddenly relented, her voice as calm as still water.

Edith was momentarily surprised before sneering, "Smart choice."

She thrust the dress into Scarlett's arms. "Hurry up."

The silk fabric felt slippery and cold against Scarlett's skin, like being wrapped in ice. She was thinner than Edith, with more defined shoulders, and somehow carried the dress better than Edith would have.

Edith stood nearby, watching the reflection in the mirror. Her expression gradually cooled as her nails dug into her palms.

"The zipper's not up," Edith approached, her voice taking on a strange tone. "Turn around, I'll help you."

Scarlett didn't move.

"What's wrong? Afraid I'll hurt you?" Edith laughed coldly, moving behind her. Her fingers touched the zipper but deliberately paused. "What do you think Seb will do if he finds out you ruined the dress?"

As she finished speaking, she yanked hard—not upward, but down. The crisp sound of the zipper breaking echoed sharply in the attic. The back of the dress tore open, revealing Scarlett's smooth back.

Edith let out an exaggerated gasp, making enough noise to draw attention, "Oh no! How did it break?"

Scarlett turned around, seeing the flash of triumph in Edith's eyes, and suddenly understood. Edith never wanted her to try on the dress—she wanted Scarlett to be blamed for destroying it.

Sebastian was probably downstairs right now.

She tugged at the collar of the dress, intending to take it off. Just then, Sebastian appeared in the doorway, half his figure hidden by the doorframe. Half in shadow, half illuminated by the light from downstairs, his eyes were dark, his emotions unreadable.

"Seb!" Edith latched onto him like a lifeline, her eyes instantly rimmed with tears. "Scarlett insisted on trying on the dress  you had specially made for me. I kindly let her, and she not only was ungrateful but tore it!"

She threw herself into Sebastian's arms, tears flowing freely.

Sebastian's gaze swept across the dim attic, finally landing on Scarlett. The dress was wrinkled, the neckline askew, exposing most of her smooth back. Her face bore a red mark from Edith's nails. 

Standing amid the dust, she looked like a wildflower bent by a storm.

He said nothing, his gaze lingering on Scarlett's exposed skin for several seconds before he raised his hand to pat Edith's back, his voice unusually gentle. "It's all right. We can have another one made."

Scarlett stared at Sebastian's hand on Edith's back, her fingertips going numb. The same hand that had gripped her wrist in the darkness of night was now tenderly comforting another woman.

Then his gaze shifted to her face, and any trace of gentleness vanished, replaced by icy coldness. "Apologize."

Scarlett froze, her throat constricted. After a moment, she managed, "I did nothing wrong."

"She's your sister." Sebastian took a step forward. The attic was already small, and his intimidating presence immediately filled the space. "You destroyed her property and still claim innocence?"

"Sister?" Scarlett laughed bitterly. "She barges into my room with the dress, deliberately tears it, and frames me—is that what sisters do?"

"You're lying!" Edith cried harder in Sebastian's arms. "Scarlett, how can you make up such things?"

Sebastian's brow furrowed slightly. He didn't look at Edith, keeping his eyes fixed on Scarlett as he repeated, "Apologize."

His tone was even but commanding, like ordering a misbehaving pet.

Scarlett looked into his cold eyes, feeling utterly exhausted. In his eyes, she would always be the troublemaker—jealous, temperamental, destructive—while Edith would always be the victim in need of protection.

She took a deep breath, the dust making her throat ache. She lifted her chin, meeting Sebastian's gaze as she pronounced each word distinctly, "I am sorry."

The words were light as a feather yet fell like stones on her own heart.

Sebastian didn't look at her again. He turned, guiding Edith downstairs. As they passed through the doorway, Edith glanced back at Scarlett, silently curving her lips in a smug smile that was more irritating than the attic dust.

The footsteps faded, leaving Scarlett alone in the attic with the mess. She removed the torn dress and threw the expensive garment into the old trash bin like garbage.

She wasn't short of money. In the five years with Sebastian, he had been generous. But that money was nothing compared to the Seymour family's wealth or Sebastian's fortune.

She reopened her book, her expression calm, as if the scene had never happened. Yet the opened book remained on the same page for a long time.

The next day was a workday. Scarlett rose early and went to work as usual. She was a manager at a design company under the Howard Group.