Chapter 2

Scarlett POV:

"They don't love me, Dad," I said, my voice flat and empty. The memory of Jax's words had scraped me hollow. "They never did. It was always for her."

I took a steadying breath, pushing down the last tremor of pain. There was no room for it anymore. "I have a second request."

My father watched me, his eyes full of a dawning, terrible understanding. "Anything, Scarlett."

"Freeze their funds. All seven of them. And hers," I said, the name Daisy-Mae feeling like poison on my tongue. "The O'Connell family doesn't support parasites. They are ranch hands, nothing more. They will earn their keep or they will leave."

He nodded slowly, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "It's done. And the day you marry Sterling, I'll have them all escorted off this ranch. I won't have them lingering, trying to stake a claim on what is yours."

It was a start. My chest felt a little less tight.

As I left the study, I nearly collided with Daisy-Mae at the top of the grand staircase. She was dressed in a pristine white sundress, her blonde hair in innocent-looking braids.

"Scarlett!" she chirped, linking her arm through mine. Her touch felt like a snake coiling around my skin. "I was just coming to find you. Will you take me to practice barrel racing today? Please?"

I yanked my arm away from her as if I'd been burned. "Don't touch me."

The smile on her face flickered for a second before it was replaced by a look of profound, theatrical hurt. Her lower lip trembled. "Scarlett, what's wrong?"

Before I could answer, she took a clumsy step back, her heel catching on nothing at all, and tumbled dramatically down the last few steps of the staircase with a pained cry.

She landed in a heap at the bottom, just as Jax and Colt emerged from the dining room.

"Daisy-Mae!" Colt shouted, rushing to her side. He glared up at me, his face contorted with rage. "What the hell did you do to her? You pushed her, you vicious bitch!"

Jax was already kneeling, gently helping Daisy-Mae to her feet. She leaned against him, sobbing. "No, no, Colt, it was an accident. Scarlett didn't mean it. She's just... upset about something."

Her fake defense was more damning than any accusation. It painted me as the cruel, unstable heiress and her as the forgiving angel. The other cowboys, drawn by the commotion, now stared at me with open disgust.

Later, at the racetrack, the performance continued. Jax completely ignored my presence. He spent the entire time with Daisy-Mae, his hands on her waist as he showed her how to hold the reins, his voice a low, encouraging murmur.

When it was time to dismount, he did something that made the air leave my lungs. He knelt on one knee in the dust, offering his broad shoulder as a step for her. She placed her small, booted foot on him without hesitation and gracefully slid to the ground.

I remembered, years ago, when I was learning to ride, my father had told Jax to do the same for me. Jax had refused. My father had grabbed him by the collar, forced him to his knees, and hissed, "You only kneel for your wife, son. And one day, that will be her."

Now, he was kneeling in the Texas dirt, but not for his future wife. He was kneeling for his whore.