Page 9 of Taming Scarlet

I decided to let them sweat that, checking the comments on my most recent selfie from the night before.

It was all normal stuff. Both love and hate. Nothing strange.

Until my eyes found those two words that had my stomach dropping.

My dove.

I had a whole-body reaction to those words, my body stiffening as I clicked over to the poster’s profile.

There was no personal information, as usual. Just reposts of all of my posts with his own long, rambling diatribe about how I needed to stop ignoring him, how I didn’t know how good he could be for me.

Blah blah fucking blah.

I blocked that account, fully aware that doing so was like beheading a hydra. But I figured this would at least make his life more difficult.

“Are you listening?” the bodyguard asked, making me glance up from under my lashes.

“No,” I admitted. I hadn’t even been aware he’d been speaking.

It wasn’t rudeness on my part, per se. It was just that anytime I saw those words—my dove—it created this ringing in my ears that drowned out everything else.

“Charming,” he scowled.

“Your room is down the hall,” I said, waving toward the hall I’d just emerged from. There were only two bedrooms. Originally, there had been three, but I’d taken one over as a walk-in closet. It wasn’t like I needed guest space. No one stayed over.

When I looked up again, I saw the bodyguard glancing around the open space.

There wasn’t much in life I loved quite as much as my penthouse.

While the floor-to-ceiling windows were tinted to keep too much heat out, they still managed to soak the place in sunshine.

It was a verywhitespace. White paint on the walls, white fireplace, white-washed hardwood floors, off-white sofas around my glossy, round, ash wood coffee table.

There was a white dining table and chairs that separated the living and kitchen.

The kitchen was all white cabinets and quartz countertops.

It wasn’t everyone’s thing, but I found the white to be clean and comforting.

I couldn’t help but wonder, though, what this man thought as he looked at it.

Cold. Sterile.

I’d heard those things more than a few times in the past.

Whatever.

It wasn’t their house.

It wouldn’t be his for long, either.

No one ever lasted. There was no reason to believe this one would.

I waited for him to disappear, then made my way down the hall as well.

My bedroom continued the white aesthetic. My king-sized bed was white and tufted, the bedsheets off-white linen, even the carpet was mostly white with a light tan pattern.

Moving through my room into my bathroom, I found more quartz, a massive soaking tub, and a walk-in shower.

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