Scarlet's unresolved grief over Tess's death
MARRIED TO MY MASTER: A Bad Boy Hitman RomanceScarlet’s unresolved grief over Tess O’Bannon’s death is a recurring wound that appears less as a settled memory than as something her body and speech can no longer keep contained. Since Tess drowned, Scarlet has tried to discipline her emotions; yet reminders of her sister repeatedly breach that control, turning resemblance into recognition, care into reenactment, and a simple admission into a prolonged collapse. The grief also shapes how Scarlet approaches intimacy and responsibility: she resists emotional exposure even as it draws her toward people who need protection.
The Wound and Its Defenses
Scarlet describes Tess’s drowning as the moment when the world cracked open and released pain. In its aftermath, she made emotional control into a discipline. That effort is not proof that the loss has receded: the memory remains powerful enough to surface in circumstances that have little to do with the original event. When Cormac MacKay’s advances stir an unfamiliar physical desire, Scarlet registers the force of the feeling and immediately rejects acting on it. Her insistence that this is not the time or place sits beside the account of Tess’s death, linking her guardedness to a life organized around containing what might break through.
The passage presents that control as vulnerable, not complete. Scarlet’s response to Cormac is striking precisely because she recognizes an impulse she has not expected from herself, then tries to restore the defenses she has built. The grief is not offered as a single explanatory cause for every choice she makes; rather, it establishes the emotional pressure against which her self-command operates. That pressure becomes unmistakable when Tess is recalled in scenes of resemblance, comfort, and attempted rescue.
Moira as a Living Reminder
Scarlet’s first sight of Moira nearly makes her collapse against a marble pillar. Moira is sitting with a bowl of ice cream, her eyes red from crying, in a polished penthouse filled with shiny floors, plush animal rugs, and expensive paintings. Scarlet barely registers the luxurious room. She sees Tess: Moira is short and curvy, with freckles, a crooked nose, and a smile that shows gapped teeth. To Scarlet, Moira seems caught between childhood and adulthood, much as Tess had seemed at twelve—physically older than her years, yet still playful and childlike.
The resemblance is not merely a thought Scarlet can set aside. One hand grips the pillar; the other opens and closes, repeating the movement she remembers making as Tess fell. Scarlet shakes her head and puts on a smile before greeting Moira. The effort to behave normally follows, rather than prevents, the physical return of the memory. Her body has already connected the scene to Tess before she has found words for what she is experiencing.
That connection changes the meaning of Scarlet’s response when Moira begins to cry over the danger around her. Scarlet rises, kneels beside her, and squeezes her shoulder. The gesture recalls two earlier attempts at care: comforting Tess after she scuffed her knee, and trying to squeeze life back into her after the drowning, while sirens were still far away and Scarlet could only half-remember first aid. The repeated touch makes the present encounter echo both an ordinary childhood injury and the moment Scarlet could not undo. Nevertheless, she tells Moira that she and her brother Cormac should leave for a few days, perhaps longer, and promises to keep them safe. Faced with a reminder of the sister she could not save, Scarlet turns fear into a promise of protection.
Grief Becomes Speakable
Later, a conversation with Moira about books opens a more direct route to the loss. Scarlet says that she used to read A Christmas Carol to her sister; her voice breaks near the end, and she takes a long sip of wine. When Moira responds lightly, Scarlet begins telling the whole story. The account becomes impossible for her to contain: she puts down her glass, bends forward with her face in her hands, and weeps violently for a long time.
Moira draws circles on Scarlet’s back and reassures her that things will be all right. The reversal is intimate: the person Scarlet has tried to comfort is now comforting her about Tess’s death. Scarlet experiences that care as almost like receiving comfort from Tess herself. The resemblance that first threatened to overwhelm her has, in this moment, made room for a kind of closeness through which she can finally speak and be witnessed. When she regains control, she apologizes and says she never does this. Moira tells her she does not need to apologize and hands her the wine. The scene does not establish that the grief is resolved; it shows Scarlet briefly allowing another person to stay with her inside it.
Tess in the Meeting with Derrick
The loss also shapes Scarlet’s meeting with her father, Derrick O’Bannon. She arrives hungover and wary that he might be working with Max Smithson, but the possibility of treating him as an ordinary suspect falters when they sit opposite one another in a noisy coffee shop. Their table is quiet by comparison, and Tess’s absence seems to dominate the conversation before either of them names it.
Scarlet notices her father’s lined skin, heavy grey eyebrows, and restless hands worrying at his coffee cup. His green eyes are the same shade as hers. As he looks around, she imagines him expecting Tess to run toward him with a smile; for an instant his face seems to reflect that smile, which vanishes along with the fantasy. The memory is thus shared, but not identical: Scarlet reads the longing in her father’s expression while confronting her own inability to remain detached from him.
After discussing her investigation, Scarlet tells Derrick, as he is standing to leave, that she tried to save Tess—repeating the admission for emphasis. Her father’s eyes grow glassy, but he pauses only briefly before asking whether they should go. The exchange supplies no account of what happened during the drowning or any resolution between them. Instead, its abruptness preserves the central fact of Scarlet’s grief: the rescue she could not accomplish remains the sentence she needs to say, while the people who share the loss still struggle to stay with it.
