Chapter 117 Everyone Tied
Ruben was the first to break the silence. "Scarlett!" He called out, waving a friendly hand in her direction.
"Mr. Lawson," Scarlett acknowledged with a curt nod.
Ruben slipped into his cop persona, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the group of guys. "You all planning on starting a riot here?"
The men who had been puffing out their chests moments before immediately shrank back. They were Delta's backup, and she wasn't about to let this go. She jabbed a finger at Finnian.
"He illegally hacked my phone! He's a criminal, and you need to arrest him."
Ruben's gaze drifted silently to Finnian. The guy had an impressive presence, radiating a kind of intellectual arrogance that came with real talent. While he didn't have Ambrose's commanding aura, the fact that he was Scarlett's old college friend already gave him a head start.
"I overheard what you were saying earlier, Ms. Powell," Ruben said calmly. "You were the one taking covert pictures first. Since you got caught, why not just delete the photo and call it a night?"
Seeing Ruben side with them, Delta stomped her foot in frustration. "You don't know anything! I took that picture because—"
"Delta," Ambrose's voice, devoid of any emotion, cut her off. "Hasn't your father grounded you long enough?"
She stared at him, her expression a mask of disbelief. "Ambrose, you know perfectly well—"
"That's enough," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "It's a trivial matter, not worth all this drama. It's just a phone. I'll have a new one sent to you tomorrow."
The quiet authority in his voice was enough to silence Delta. She couldn't afford to push him, not after he'd threatened to cut ties with the Powell family recently. Tonight, sending that picture had been a desperate attempt to mend their fractured relationship.
She bit her lip, her glare shifting from a resentful Finnian to an even more hated Scarlett. She had wanted Ambrose to back her up, but he was choosing Scarlett over his own cousin. It was always Scarlett. First Wesley, now Ambrose. The woman was a siren, luring every man away.
Delta was certain that one day, everyone would see Scarlett for who she was and despise her.
"Alright, if there's nothing else, you can all clear out," Ruben said, shooing the hired muscle away. They scattered like they'd been granted a pardon, practically tripping over themselves to escape.
Ambrose noticed Delta still lingering. "Is there something else?" He asked, his voice low and unhurried.
Delta had always been intimidated by Ambrose. Catching his drift, she quickly stammered, "No, I'll head back now." With that, she scurried away, defeated.
With the trouble gone, a sudden, awkward quiet fell over the group. Briar quickly grabbed Scarlett's arm. "Finnian, Sawyer, we'll have to reschedule."
The two men nodded in agreement, ready to make their exit.
"Hold on, you're calling it a night already? You guys have no nightlife," Ruben declared, acting like they were old pals. He slung an arm around Finnian's shoulders, steering him toward their booth. "Come on, let's all have a drink together."
Finnian frowned, his dislike for unsolicited physical contact obvious. But then Ruben added, "Finnian, I was actually hoping to talk to you about a potential business development project. Sit, let's chat."
At the mention of business, Finnian relented. You don't turn down money.
Sawyer was pulled back as well, but Scarlett had no intention of staying. Ruben, surprisingly perceptive, sorted it out before she could even protest.
"Ms. Mellon, I know you have a child and can't stay out late. You should head home." Then, he turned to Ambrose. "Ambrose, Ms. Mellon has been drinking. It's not safe for her to go alone. You should give her a ride."
Scarlett knew Ruben and Ambrose were a team. This sudden move to keep the others felt like a setup, and she worried he was plotting something against her friends. Briar, sensing her anxiety, volunteered to stay.
"You go on ahead," she said reassuringly. "I'll stay and keep an eye on things."
Only then did Scarlett relax. "Okay," she nodded. "Then you stay off the drinks and watch them."
Scarlett and Ambrose walked out of the bar just as his car pulled up. She didn't want to get in, but she had little choice. She slid into the back seat, keeping her distance.
"Are you always this guarded with me?" Ambrose asked. He'd seen her hesitation, and a flicker of something that looked like hurt crossed his features.
Scarlett turned to face him from the other side of the spacious seat. She understood the implication. It wasn't that she was just being cautious; it was that she was acutely aware of his power. And given his obvious hang-up about her and Finnian, she couldn't help but worry.
"Finnian has helped me," she stated simply, not denying his unspoken accusation.
A soft, humorless laugh echoed in the car. "Wow. That stings."
His wounded tone was impossible to ignore. "That's not what I meant."
Normally, Ambrose would have pressed her, demanding an explanation. But tonight, he fell silent. The car was plunged into a heavy quiet.
For some reason, a pang of regret hit Scarlett. She glanced at him twice, but he just stared out the window, the back of his head turned to her as if he'd retreated into himself.
She was about to try and explain when his phone rang, the sharp sound cutting through the silence. The words died in her throat, and she sat quietly as he took the call.
If she were being honest, Ambrose had helped her more than anyone. For years, no one had offered her a hand, except for him. She hadn't forgotten his kindness. But she also knew what he was capable of in Silverlight City, and she worried he might use his influence to make things difficult for Finnian because of her.
But his words—That stings—had he really been hurt by her? She remembered the things he'd said that had wounded her, and a strange sense of irony settled over her. Now she had hurt him back.
Ambrose was on and off calls until they reached Lakeside Garden. They got out of the car, rode the elevator, and stepped into the apartment, all without exchanging a single word.
In the entryway, he kicked off his shoes without a sound, then turned and walked toward his room without so much as a glance in her direction.
Scarlett watched his retreating back and let out a deep breath. Was he really angry?
After changing her own shoes, she started toward her bedroom. As she passed his room, she saw him through the crack in the door. He was standing in front of his open closet, not grabbing anything, just staring into it. His posture radiated a kind of lonely stillness.
She paused, then, after a moment's thought, raised her hand and knocked softly on his door.
He turned his head, his gaze meeting hers for a brief second before he turned back to the closet.
"You hurt me once," she said, her voice steady. "Tonight, I hurt you. I guess that makes us even." The unspoken message hung in the air, 'I forgive you for what you said.'
Ambrose turned around fully, his long, narrow eyes glinting with an unreadable, deep light. He stared at her for a long moment. "And so?"
Scarlett stood in the doorway, knowing exactly what he was asking. He wanted an answer to the proposition he'd made earlier tonight.
She met his gaze, her mind clear. "I need to think about your proposal," she said, her voice rational. "But before I do, I need to know—do you already have someone you're planning to marry? Because if you do, there's no point in considering it."
"No."
The word shot out of him, so fast it almost made her want to smile. Ambrose closed the distance between them, stopping right in front of her.
"A family friend—a close one—was visiting today," he said, his voice low. "I stayed for two minutes and then left."
He held her gaze. "If I were interested in some blind date my family set up, I wouldn't have waited this long."