Let Me Go, Mr. Howard Chapter 23

"Scarlett, did you resign?" Edith clung to Sebastian's arm as they emerged from the revolving door, her face wearing a mask of "concern." 

"Is it because I made you unhappy? I'm sorry, it's my fault. I'm always making mistakes. If it helps, I could leave instead. Please don't go, Scarlett."

Sebastian's gaze fell on the cardboard box in Scarlett's arms. His brow creased almost imperceptibly, but he remained silent. 

Scarlett didn't even bother to look up. She walked straight past them as if she hadn't heard Edith's fake concern or noticed Sebastian's silence.

She took a taxi to her usual bar, ordered whiskey on the rocks, and leaned against the counter, sipping slowly. The amber liquid traced arcs along the glass, reminding her of the ups and downs of her life these past few years.

"One tequila," a familiar voice said from behind her, carrying that faint cedar scent.

Scarlett's back instantly stiffened, her fingers turning white around her glass. She didn't turn around, hoping to pretend she hadn't heard. 

But her wrist was suddenly seized in a grip strong enough to crush bone. 

Sebastian's presence loomed over her with an authority that refused rejection. "Come with me."

"Let go," Scarlett struggled, her voice ice-cold. "What more instructions do you have, Mr. Howard? I've resigned. I'm not your employee anymore."

"Whether you're my employee or not is for me to decide." Sebastian gave her no chance to resist, half-dragging her from the bar and pushing her into the car waiting outside.

The car eventually stopped at a hot springs hotel on the outskirts of the city. 

When the door to the top-floor suite opened, Scarlett's breath caught sharply. 

Five years ago, to secure her position in the Seymour family, she had spent a night here with Sebastian. It marked the beginning of their entanglement—and the start of her nightmare.

The suite remained unchanged—floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking mountain ranges, crystal lamps by the bed scattering fragments of light, exactly as they had been that night. 

Sebastian pulled a paper from his suit's inner pocket and tossed it onto the coffee table. Her resignation letter.

"Resigned?" He walked to the bar to pour himself a drink, his tone as casual as if discussing the weather.

Scarlett turned away, gazing at the mountains outside. "Yes."

"All because of one exhibition?" Sebastian approached with his glass, his fingertip tracing her jawline with the cold touch of alcohol. "Or because I didn't help you?"

Scarlett jerked her head away, her eyes flashing with mockery. "If that's what you think, then so be it. We have nothing to discuss."

She tried to move past him, but he seized her wrist in an iron grip. 

Sebastian's strength was alarming as he pulled her against him, his hot breath on her neck. "Nothing to discuss? Scarlett, have you forgotten where we are?"

His kiss landed roughly, tasting of alcohol and anger, punishing her for her "betrayal." 

"Five years ago, you were here, kneeling on this carpet, saying you'd do anything to be mine..."

"Shut up!" Scarlett shoved him away, her eyes rimmed red. "Must you bring that up? Does humiliating me like this make you happy?"

"Humiliating you?" Sebastian laughed, his voice deep. "I'm just reminding you that you started this relationship. You pursued me, and now you think you can walk away? Impossible!"

He pressed her down onto the carpet, his actions deliberately mirroring that night five years ago when she'd approached him in an ill-fitting dress, awkward and timid. 

"See how obedient you still are," he whispered in her ear, his voice hoarse. "Five years, and you still can't leave me, can you?"

Scarlett closed her eyes, letting her tears fall. She didn't want to struggle or argue. All words seemed powerless against such overwhelming force. 

He was right. She had pursued him first. She had set aside her dignity to use his influence. Later, she'd grown greedy, foolishly hoping for a scrap of genuine feeling and status from him.

Time passed. Scarlett lay face-down on the bed, completely drained. Sebastian sat at the edge, smoking, his profile blurred by swirling smoke. 

He extinguished his cigarette, picked up her resignation letter from the table, and without even looking at it, tore it into pieces and dropped them on the floor.

"Tomorrow, you'll return to work," he said coldly, leaving no room for negotiation. "Stop thinking about resigning."

"I won't go back." Scarlett's voice was so hoarse it was barely audible. "That place—I don't want to spend another second there."

"You don't have a choice." Sebastian stood, straightening his wrinkled shirt. "If you don't obey, I have ways to ensure no design company will hire you. Then..." 

He paused, his gaze falling on her pale face with unmistakable threat. "You'll have no choice but to return to the Seymour Villa and continue living under Edith's thumb."

"Sebastian!" Scarlett's head snapped up, her eyes burning with suppressed fury. "What do you want from me? Do you just want to watch Edith step on me, humiliate me, torment me? Is that what satisfies you?"

Sebastian froze. He stared at her red-rimmed eyes, at the desperate flame within them. His Adam's apple bobbed slightly, but he said nothing. 

Silence spread through the suite like an airless net. In the end, he offered no explanation. He simply picked up his suit jacket and left.

As the door closed, Scarlett curled into herself, finally releasing the sobs she'd been holding back. 

Her phone suddenly rang, Edith's name flashing on the screen. She stared at it for a long time, until the call went to voicemail, then slowly closed her eyes.

Only when the phone rang for the third time did Scarlett impatiently answer.

"Scarlett, where the hell are you?" Edith's sharp voice came through the speaker. "Didn't I tell you about the cocktail party tonight?"

"I'm not going." Scarlett's voice was as rough as sandpaper, the recent humiliation still branded into her bones. She didn't want to be connected to them for even one more second.

"Say that again?" Edith's tone rose threateningly. "You dare not come? Seb specifically instructed that you accompany me. He said you hold your liquor well and can help shield me from drinks. If you don't show up, I'll tell him."

Sebastian again. Scarlett's fingers whitened around her phone. She remembered his words in the hotel suite: "Stop thinking about resigning." "I have ways to ensure no design company will hire you."

She closed her eyes, swallowing the metallic taste in her throat. 

"Fine." She hung up and sat up on the bed. Every bone in her body felt broken, especially her wrists, which still bore the red marks from his grip.

The woman in the mirror looked pale, her eyes unable to hide her exhaustion and disgust. 

She pulled out the plainest white shirt and jeans from the closet, not even bothering with makeup.