Scarlett didn't expect to run into Mason at the grocery store. Especially not while she was in sweatpants, hair tied up, pushing a cart full of cereal, frozen pizza, and a suspicious amount of chocolate.
"Whoa," Mason said, grinning as he leaned on her cart. "Did the apocalypse hit only your cravings?"
Scarlett sighed. "If I don't have chocolate, your best friend may not survive the week."
Mason laughed, but there was something in his eyes. Worry? Hesitation?
"You okay?" Scarlett asked.
He hesitated. "I think you should ask Ryder that."
Scarlett narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"
"Just… don't take his coldness personal," Mason said. "He only knows two emotions—flirting and pushing people away."
Scarlett leaned on the cart. "What's he pushing away from?"
Mason looked at her, really looked at her.
"Ask him. He might actually answer you."
---
Back at the Mansion – Later That Night
Ryder was in the music room, fingers tapping a piano key rhythmically. He didn't notice Scarlett until she sat next to him on the bench.
"Didn't know you played," she said.
"I don't. I just hit notes until it feels less loud in my head."
Scarlett stayed quiet, watching him.
"I saw Mason today," she said after a beat.
"Let me guess," Ryder said, still staring at the keys. "He told you I'm emotionally constipated."
"He said you push people away."
Silence.
Ryder stopped playing.
"I don't mean to," he finally said. "I just... got used to people liking the version of me that's easiest to swallow."
"And what version is that?"
"The one that jokes. Flirts. Pretends nothing ever gets to him."
Scarlett's voice was soft. "What does get to you?"
He looked at her, and for once, there was no smirk. No sarcasm. Just something raw.
"Losing control," Ryder said. "And losing people I care about. Both things I'm really good at."
Scarlett swallowed. "Did you lose someone?"
Ryder nodded, slow and stiff.
"My mom."
Scarlett blinked. "I thought your parents—"
"My dad's around. But not in a way that matters. My mom… she was the one who kept me grounded. When she died, everything went sideways."
She reached out, her fingers brushing his.
"I'm sorry."
Ryder looked down at their hands.
"It's not something I talk about," he said. "Not with anyone. But when you said I didn't have to be perfect… it stuck."
Scarlett leaned her head slightly against his shoulder.
They sat there, no flirting, no games.
Just honesty and something dangerously close to comfort.
---
Elsewhere – Vivian's Room
Vivian scrolled through her phone, pausing on a photo someone had taken at Ryder's party.
Scarlett and Ryder standing close.
Too close.
She zoomed in, lips curling.
"Oh no, sweetheart," she whispered. "He's mine. Always has been. Always will be."
She hit "send" on a message.
> Vivian: "We need to talk. I want Scarlett gone."
~NEXT MORNING ~
Scarlett was used to glares.
Vivian had been throwing them her way since week one.
But nothing — nothing — compared to the way she stormed into the mansion that afternoon, heels sharp, lips curled, and fury in her eyes like a storm that had waited to strike.
"I need to speak with Ryder," she snapped at Fredrick, who was polishing silver in the hallway.
"He's—"
"Now."
Fredrick blinked, but said nothing as she stomped toward Ryder's room like she owned the place.
Scarlett, unfortunately, heard it all from the second-floor railing.
She wasn't the eavesdropping type… unless Vivian was involved.
Then all bets were off.
---
Inside Ryder's Room
"What do you want, Vivian?" Ryder asked, not even looking up from his laptop.
Vivian closed the door behind her with a click.
"I want you to open your eyes."
"Already open."
"To her," Vivian hissed. "Scarlett. The nanny. The girl."
Ryder slowly turned, finally facing her.
"She has a name."
"She's using you," Vivian snapped. "You don't see it because you're too busy playing the tortured, misunderstood rich boy. But she doesn't care about you. She wants your money, your sympathy—"
"Stop."
Ryder's voice was sharp. Cold.
"I've known Scarlett for weeks. You've hated her for five minutes."
Vivian stepped closer, voice dropping.
"She's not one of us, Ryder. She doesn't know our world. She'll ruin you."
"She's the only person in this house who doesn't want anything from me."
Silence.
Ryder stood now.
"You think because we had a history that gives you the right to barge in here and insult her?"
Vivian's expression twisted.
"History? You mean the part where I waited for you? Stood by you? Loved you while you chased girls you didn't even remember the names of?"
He didn't flinch. Just stared at her with something exhausted in his eyes.
"You waited, Vivian. But I never asked you to."
---
Outside the Door – Scarlett
She froze.
Every word.
Every sentence.
It echoed like a slap.
And something twisted in her stomach.
She didn't want to care.
But she did.
She hated that she did.
She turned and walked away, silent but shaken.
---
Later That Night – Kitchen
Scarlett stood over the stove, trying to distract herself with pasta.
It wasn't working.
Her thoughts kept spinning — Ryder defending her… Vivian's accusations… the way her heart wouldn't stop racing.
Ryder walked in, still dressed from earlier, expression unreadable.
"You heard," he said quietly.
Scarlett stirred the pasta too hard.
"Didn't mean to."
He leaned on the counter beside her. Close. Too close.
"I'm sorry she said all that. She's bitter. And jealous. And wrong."
Scarlett didn't look at him. "Is she?"
"What?"
"Wrong."
He stared at her.
Scarlett turned, eyes meeting his.
"I don't want your money, Ryder. I don't need your pity. But I also didn't sign up to be in the middle of your ex's meltdown."
"She's not my anything," he said, stepping closer.
"And what am I?"
The question hung in the air like a dare.
Ryder exhaled, slow and ragged.
"I don't know yet," he admitted. "But I know you're not nothing."
Scarlett blinked. Her throat felt dry.
And her heart… traitorous as always… skipped.
He moved closer.
Their faces inches apart.
"I'll make her stop," Ryder said softly. "Whatever I have to do."
Scarlett gave a tired smile. "Good luck with that."
And just as she turned back to the pasta—
He gently tugged her ponytail.
"Was that flirty?" he asked.
Scarlett rolled her eyes.
"Less flirty. More annoying."
Ryder grinned. "Progress."
___
The next few days were oddly calm.
No Vivian barging in. No dramatic tantrums. No sharp stares at breakfast.
Which, of course, made Scarlett suspicious.
People like Vivian didn't just go quiet.
They planned.
Still, the mansion had a rare warmth lately — mostly because Ryder had been unusually… decent.
He wasn't flirting with every girl who walked by.
He wasn't throwing teasing smirks or casually leaning against doorframes like a soap opera lead.
No. This Ryder was subtle.
Present.
Thoughtful in a way that felt dangerous.
Like he was forgetting the rules he'd set for himself.
---
Scarlett's Room – Late Afternoon
Scarlett was supposed to be reading for class. But her mind kept drifting.
To Ryder.
To the things he'd said.
"You're not nothing."
She stared at the wall. Annoyed with her own thoughts.
She needed to clear her head.
And for some reason, that meant walking down the east hallway toward the music room — the one Ryder always escaped to when he didn't want to be found.
She didn't expect the door to be cracked open.
She didn't expect to hear anything, either.
But she did.
A soft, shaky voice. Singing.
> "I know I'm hard to handle... but you stay anyway…"
Scarlett froze.
Was that… Ryder?
She peeked through the door.
And there he was.
Sitting on the piano bench, hoodie half-on, head bowed, singing softly to a melody he played himself.
It wasn't polished.
It wasn't perfect.
But it was real.
And heartbreaking.
Scarlett stayed hidden, barely breathing.
He looked like a boy who'd held too much pain for too long.
A boy pretending not to care because he was terrified of what would happen if he did.
When he finished, he sat in silence for a moment. Then muttered to himself, "Not good enough."
And that was when Scarlett accidentally knocked the door open with her foot.
Ryder jumped, startled.
He stood quickly, defensive. "What are you doing here?"
Scarlett hesitated. "I wasn't spying. I was just walking and… I heard."
Ryder looked away, ears tinged red. "Forget it. I was messing around."
"No, you weren't," Scarlett said softly.
She walked in, shutting the door behind her.
"That song," she said. "Did you write it?"
He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. A while ago."
"It was beautiful."
"Please don't say that."
"Why?"
"Because if you say it, I might believe it."
Scarlett's chest tightened.
She stepped closer.
"You hide all the best parts of yourself," she said. "Like you're scared people will actually love them."
He looked at her then — raw, quiet, and afraid.
"Maybe I am," Ryder whispered. "Because when people love you, they leave. Or you lose them."
Scarlett didn't respond with words.
She just reached for his hand.
And held it.
No pressure. No questions.
Just silent understanding.
Ryder didn't pull away.
---
Elsewhere – Vivian's Apartment
Vivian stood by her vanity, brushing her hair with practiced ease.
Her phone buzzed.
A message flashed across the screen.
> Unknown: She's getting too close. You said you'd handle it.
Vivian smirked and typed back.
> Vivian: Don't worry. She'll never see it coming.