Chapter 75

Everett’s POV Sitting in the car, I stared out the window. The cityscape blurred past — cars, neon lights, towering buildings. Los Angeles was always alive, even at night. Still loud. Still bright. Still busy. Same city. But this winter… it felt colder than ever. My reflection in the glass looked hollow. Wrecked. In my head, the same image played on repeat — Scarlett leaning into that man’s chest, smiling softly, fitting into him like she belonged there. I couldn’t shake it. I lifted a cold, pale hand and pressed it to my chest. The pain was real, sharp, like something inside had split open and let the cold in. My heart — once warm — was now just a useless thing, beating without feeling. The car slowed and stopped outside the Green Lake Villa gates. From here, I could see the master bedroom on the second floor. For three years… no matter how late my dinners ran, if Scarlett was home, that light stayed on. She always waited for me. But now she was gone. And the home we’d built together