Page 27 of The Mountain Man's Untamed Bride
I positioned myself by the back door, listening.
"I told you, Langley, I'm not coming back," Scarlett's voice was steady despite the fear I could hear beneath it. "The engagement is over. I don't care what my father promised you or your family."
"Oh, sweetheart," his voice dripped with condescension, "that's not how this works. Your father and mine have arrangements. Business arrangements that require our union. Your... feelings... aren't relevant to the larger picture."
A crash of something breaking, followed by Scarlett's gasp.
"Look what you made me do," Langley's voice hardened. "Always making me demonstrate my point. This is why you need guidance, Scarlett. Strong, firm guidance."
That was enough. I slipped through the back door, my footsteps silent on the wooden floor I'd laid with my own hands. From the kitchen, I could see into the living room where Langley had Scarlett cornered. His back was to me, but I could see the rigid set of his shoulders, the way his manicured hand gripped her arm hard enough to leave marks.
The perfect image he presented—expensive clothes, all-American good looks—stood in stark contrast to the shatteredceramic mug at his feet and the wild look in his eyes. His movements were too quick, his speech too rapid. The constant sniffing, the jaw clenching—classic signs of someone riding a cocaine high. Just like Scarlett had suspected when she told me about him.
Great. Not just an entitled asshole, but a coked-out entitled asshole.
Scarlett's eyes found mine over his shoulder. The relief that flooded her face was quickly masked as she focused back on Langley, not giving away my presence.
I moved into position, calculating the cleanest takedown with minimal risk to Scarlett.
"I've already explained to your father how we'll handle this," Langley was saying, his fingers digging deeper into her arm. "A few weeks at that private wellness center in Arizona. Very discreet. They specialize in... adjusting attitudes. By the time you come home, you'll be properly grateful for structure again."
Scarlett's eyes widened in real fear. "You're talking about locking me up."
"I prefer to think of it as intensive pre-marital counseling," he smiled, the expression never reaching his eyes. "A reset. By the time we say our vows, you'll be the perfect pastor's daughter again. The perfect wife."
"I think the lady already gave you her answer."
Langley whirled, keeping his grip on Scarlett, yanking her partially in front of him like a shield.
"Who the fuck are you?" His eyes narrowed, taking in my appearance with obvious disgust. "The mountain hobo she's been slumming with? This is a private conversation between my fiancée and me."
"Ex-fiancée," Scarlett corrected, attempting to twist free of his grip.
Langley's fingers dug deeper into her arm. "Semantics, darling. We both know how this ends."
I stepped forward, keeping my voice calm despite the fury building inside me. "Here's how this ends: You let her go and leave my property before I remove you. Your choice how that happens."
He laughed, a sound entirely devoid of humor. "Do you have any idea who I am? Who her father is? This little rebellion is cute, but it's over. Scarlett belongs with me, in Atlanta, fulfilling her obligations to her family and our community."
"I don't belong to anyone," Scarlett snapped, still struggling.
Langley's free hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head back. "The Richardson family doesn't just walk away from deals, sweetheart. Your father knows that. Why do you think he was so eager to make this match? My father practically owns half his church board."
I moved closer. "Let her go. Now."
"Or what?" Langley sneered. "You'll what, mountain man? I have the best attorneys in the Southeast. I'll bury you in lawsuits. Trespassing, kidnapping, assault—take your pick. By the time I'm done, you won't have this pathetic cabin or anything else."
"You broke into my property," I pointed out. "You're assaulting a woman who's clearly told you to leave. Your legal threats don't impress me."
His eyes darted between us, the cocaine making him even more erratic. "She's coming with me. Her father wants her home. The wedding is still happening. Too much depends on it."
"She's not going anywhere she doesn't want to go."
"You don't understand what you're interfering with!" His voice rose, desperation creeping in. "This union is about more than just marriage. The Montgomery-Richardson alliance means power. Influence. Money. Years of planning. I'm not letting some backwoods nobody ruin that."
"You know what's nice about living this far from civilization?" I asked, closing the final distance between us. "No witnesses."
Langley's expression flickered. "What?"
