Chapter 7: Vows in a White Room
That morning, New York did not greet them warmly. The sky beyond the large windows of the Caldwell residence was a deep gray, as if squid ink had spilled across the canvas of the horizon. The tension from last night's dinner still lingered like a thick layer of dust, suffocating and hard to clear. Scarlett woke with swollen eyes, having spent the night staring at the ceiling, trying to process the offer, or rather the command, of marriage from Victoria that felt like a film plot too impossible for her to play.
She went downstairs with hesitant steps. The house was unnervingly quiet, the only sound the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway, like a countdown to an explosion. Scarlett was just about to head toward the kitchen when a loud thud from Victoria's room stopped her heart.
"Madam?" Scarlett shouted, her feet moving faster than her thoughts.
There, on the luxurious Persian carpet, Victoria lay collapsed. Her face, usually full of authority, was now pale, her lips slightly blue, her breathing short and uneven like a fish out of water. Julian appeared a second later from the study, his composed face instantly cracking into a mask of raw panic.
"Grandma!" Julian's voice thundered, yet his trembling hands as he checked Victoria's pulse betrayed his composure.
Panic struck like a storm. Scarlett only remembered fragments moving in rapid flashes: the sound of ambulance sirens tearing through the silence of the Upper East Side, red lights spinning against marble walls, and Julian's rigid back as he helped the paramedics lift the stretcher. In an instant, the luxury of the house was replaced by the sharp smell of antiseptic and the coldness of hospital floors.
Silence in the ICU Corridor
The ICU waiting area felt like another dimension. Cold, silent, filled with the monotonous beeping of heart monitors echoing beyond the door. Julian sat on a plastic chair, his hands clasped in front of his mouth, his eyes empty as they stared at the floor. He looked so fragile, a sight that made Scarlett's chest tighten painfully.
A doctor emerged with a tired expression. "Madam Victoria's condition is critical. The heart attack was severe, compounded by high stress levels. She is stable for now, but very weak. All we can do is wait."
At the mention of "high stress," Scarlett felt as if she had just stabbed Victoria herself. This is because of me, her mind screamed. Because of my refusal last night.
She stepped closer to Julian, but he did not turn. The aura around him felt like a wall of thorns, do not come closer, do not speak, do not touch.
"Julian…" Scarlett's voice was hoarse. "I… I'm sorry."
Julian stood up. He did not look at Scarlett but fixed his gaze on the glass door of the ICU. "Come with me," he said quietly.
They walked down a quieter hallway, far from the nurses' activity. Julian turned, looking at Scarlett with blue eyes now darkened by exhaustion and pressure.
"We're going to do it," Julian said without preamble. His voice was flat, emotionless, like a businessman reciting contract terms.
Scarlett blinked. "Do what?"
"Get married. We'll grant her request. I will not let her die with regret or worry about this family's position. This marriage is the best solution to ease her mind."
Julian stepped closer, locking his gaze on Scarlett. "Tell me, Scarlett. What do you want? Money? Property? A ten-year film contract? Name your price, and I'll give it to you. Consider this the most profitable business transaction of your life."
There was a tone of condescension woven into his words, an assumption that Scarlett was just another opportunist. Scarlett felt her blood boil, but the pain cut deeper than anger.
"Money," Scarlett answered shortly. Her voice trembled.
Julian let out a dry scoff, a cynical smile tugging at his lips. "Of course. Everyone has a price in the end, don't they?"
"Yes, I want money!" Scarlett burst out. The tears she had been holding back finally spilled, streaming down her pale cheeks. "I need money to pay off my father's gambling debts in Carmel! Do you know why I came to New York with nothing but a worn backpack? Because my father was going to sell me to loan sharks if I didn't bring money within a month!"
Scarlett sobbed, her shoulders shaking. "My sister gave me my only hope, a contact at an agency in New York. But I got pickpocketed. I lost everything with that wallet! I have no one here, Julian. I have nowhere to go back to. I'm marrying you not because I want your wealth, but because I have no choice if I want to survive!"
A suffocating silence fell between them. Julian stood still, his arms dropping to his sides. He looked at Scarlett, really looked, at her smeared makeup, her trembling hands, and the bitter honesty in her eyes. His assumption about her being materialistic collapsed instantly, replaced by a crushing guilt.
This girl is not an opportunist. She is a survivor.
Julian exhaled deeply, stepping closer and, for the first time, placing his hand on Scarlett's shoulder. It was not an affectionate touch, but it felt like an anchor.
"I'm sorry," Julian whispered, his voice softer. "I will help with your financial problem. All those debts will be settled tomorrow. And this marriage… we will go through with it. For Grandma. And to protect you from people like your father or Selena."
A Rushed Promise
They entered the ICU room quietly. There, Victoria looked so small beneath layers of white blankets and medical wires. Her eyes, usually sharp, were only half open, but they lit up immediately when she saw Julian and Scarlett walk in hand in hand.
Julian held Victoria's cold hand. "Grandma, we've talked. We agree. We will get married as soon as possible."
Victoria said nothing, but the corner of her lips lifted into a faint smile. A single tear of emotion slipped down her wrinkled cheek. She squeezed both their hands, as if binding their two destinies under her blessing.
Yet, as Scarlett leaned down to kiss Victoria's forehead, she caught a glint in the older woman's eyes that seemed too alive. For a moment, Victoria's breathing looked too steady for someone who had just been on the brink of death. But Scarlett quickly dismissed the thought. Maybe this is what people call a miracle, she told herself.
The miracle continued. The next morning, the doctor declared Victoria's condition had improved at an unreasonable speed. Julian narrowed his eyes suspiciously when he saw his grandmother already able to sit up and ask for her favorite Earl Grey tea, while Scarlett could only whisper words of gratitude again and again.
"There's no time to waste," Victoria said as soon as she returned home, which happened only two days after the incident. "Preparations must begin now. A private wedding in the family chapel this weekend."
"Private?" Scarlett asked, feeling both relieved and confused.
"Yes," Julian answered firmly. "This marriage must not be known to the public. Your career is just beginning, Scarlett. If the world finds out you married Julian Caldwell before your first film is released, they will label you as an actress who bought her way to the top. I won't let that destroy your reputation."
Victoria nodded in agreement, her eyes gleaming with strategy. "I've prepared a story. For now, in public, Scarlett is a distant cousin from my mother's side who has come to learn the business at JTC. That will explain why she is always around you, Julian."
Victoria's manipulation was so precise that Scarlett felt like a piece on a chessboard. But there was one warning from Victoria that shifted the atmosphere again.
"But remember one thing, Julian," Victoria said, looking at her grandson seriously. "If one day Scarlett is caught in a dangerous situation, whether because of Selena or an industry scandal, you must be brave enough to acknowledge this marriage to the world. You must be ready to face the storm of public opinion to protect her. If you are not ready, then do not say those vows in front of the priest."
Julian looked at Scarlett, then back at his grandmother. "I'm ready," he answered without hesitation, even though he knew those words were a ticket to endless complications.
Vows Beneath a Clouded Sky
The weekend came too quickly. There was no designer gown with a ten-meter train, no thousands of guests, and no flashing cameras. Scarlett stood inside the small chapel at the corner of the Caldwell estate, wearing only a simple white silk dress bought by Victoria.
The scent of beeswax candles and aged wood filled the room. When Julian spoke his vows, his voice sounded calm yet heavy. Scarlett responded in a voice barely audible, her hands gripping a small bouquet of roses, damp with cold sweat.
When Julian pressed a kiss to her forehead to seal the ceremony, Scarlett realized something painful: she had just traded her freedom for protection. She was marrying not out of blooming love, but to survive the shadows of her past.
Julian, on the other hand, stared at the plain gold ring on Scarlett's ring finger. He realized he had become entangled far deeper than he had planned. This girl was no longer just a guest, no longer just a management project. She was his responsibility, legally and perhaps emotionally.
This marriage could become a fortress that saved Scarlett from destruction, or the fire that would burn them both when the secrets of the future began to unravel one by one.
As they stepped out of the chapel, the cold New York wind greeted their faces. Julian instinctively wrapped an arm around Scarlett's shoulders, a gesture that felt both natural and unfamiliar.
"Welcome to the Caldwell family, Scarlett," Julian whispered.
Scarlett looked up at the overcast sky above them. Her journey had just begun, and she did not know whether she was walking toward the light or stepping into a greater storm.