Chapter 41 Mistress
"I'm taking this all the way to the top. The school owes us an explanation." Scarlett's voice shook. She couldn't calm down—not when her mind kept spinning with what else this woman might've done to Yara behind closed doors.
"I was trying to be civil about this, but if you want to play hardball, fine." The teacher's lips curled into a sneer. "You brought this on yourself with your questionable behavior. Other parents banded together and demanded that the principal kick Yara out. I even covered for you, and this is the thanks I get? You've got some nerve threatening me."
"My behavior is none of your damn business." Scarlett's jaw clenched. "But you abused my daughter. I'm getting a lawyer, and I will make sure you face consequences. A school that kisses up to the rich and tramples on everyone else? We're better off without it. And a teacher like you? What kind of values could you possibly teach children?"
She scooped Yara into her arms. "Come on, sweetie. We're leaving. Mommy's going to make sure the people who hurt you pay for what they did."
Yara nodded solemnly. "Mommy, we can't let bad people keep being bad. The police should arrest them all."
Mother and daughter headed for the exit, bags in hand.
Hayden followed.
Straight into Scarlett's car.
The fury clouding Scarlett's mind made her oblivious to the extra passenger—until Yara piped up from the backseat.
"Hayden, why'd you follow us?"
Scarlett had borrowed Briar's car today since hers was still impounded. She twisted around to find Hayden's worried face staring back at her.
The rage still simmered in her veins, but she forced herself to take a breath.
"Hayden, where's Kai? He's going to freak out when he can't find you."
As if on cue, Kai came sprinting across the parking lot. Scarlett pushed open the door, ready to usher Hayden out.
The boy shook his head.
Kai reached the car, slightly out of breath. "Hayden, come on. We need to go home."
"I want to go to Yara's house."
Three people froze.
Yara recovered first, her whole face lighting up as she grabbed Hayden's hand. "Hayden! You can talk!"
Silence.
He'd always been able to talk. He just... didn't like to.
Scarlett's anger evaporated, replaced by pure shock. Beside the car, Kai stood speechless.
"Kai, I... what should we—"
"Let him go with you." Kai cleared his throat. "I'll explain it to Mr. Boleyn."
Scarlett didn't argue. Hayden would be living with her eventually anyway. Might as well start getting used to it now.
She drove both kids back to Lakeside Garden.
Once home, they disappeared into Yara's room to play. Thank God her daughter was resilient—between her natural optimism and Hayden's presence, the trauma didn't seem to be weighing on her.
That was when Scarlett finally let herself deal with the school situation.
In the study, she called a lawyer she knew and laid out everything. The abuse. The forced withdrawal. All of it.
The lawyer's response was straightforward, "We can handle this. If the school refuses to apologize, we'll take them to court. And we'll win."
Scarlett handed over the case.
By seven that evening, Rhea had dinner ready. They were just sitting down when Ambrose showed up with a bag of Hayden's clothes.
One more place setting appeared at the table.
Scarlett barely registered Ambrose crashing their meal. Her emotions were still too raw.
After dinner, Ambrose asked about the school incident. She told him everything—no sugarcoating.
He went quiet for a moment before speaking. "Keep Yara home for a few days. I don't think Hayden wants to go back either. He can stay here too."
The thought of Hayden facing retaliation for defending Yara had already crossed Scarlett's mind. She nodded. "He stood up for her today. If he goes back to school... they might target him. Keep an eye out."
Ambrose's gaze held hers. "I will."
He left shortly after.
The moment he stepped outside Lakeside Garden, his phone was already at his ear.
"Chase. Dig up everything on Rainbow Kindergarten's bribery over the years. And find out if any teachers have been abusing students. If they have, send it all upstream. I want one thing: ownership of that school."
"Understood."
The next morning, after a night's sleep dulled the sharp edges of her pain, Scarlett still couldn't bring herself to leave the house. She spent the day with both kids.
At ten, Ruben called about the accident. Crap—she'd completely forgotten about that.
She headed to the traffic bureau and agreed to a private settlement, but with conditions: compensation for her losses during this whole ordeal.
She itemized everything and handed the list to the clerk, who contacted Brielle. The moment Brielle heard the figure—$100,000—she went ballistic, screaming about Scarlett abusing her power and launching into a full character assassination right there in front of the staff.
The officer looked thoroughly unimpressed. Seen it all before. He simply gave them a deadline: settle it privately within the timeframe, or let the legal system handle it.
Back home, Scarlett felt utterly drained. But life didn't stop. Work couldn't stop.
She threw herself into the art museum design project—library research, bookstore runs, anything to keep her mind occupied.
That afternoon, Wesley called.
She juggled a book in one hand, phone in the other. Her tone could've frozen water.
"What do you want?"
"I heard about your accident. Are you okay?" Concern dripped from his voice.
She knew exactly what this was about. He'd figured out that Owen had connections—serious ones—and now he wanted to smooth things over.
Ambrose had called it perfectly.
"If you have something to say, say it. Skip the fake concern."
Silence stretched for a few seconds. "About my mother... I'm sorry. I promise she won't bother you again."
"If apologies actually fixed things, my daughter wouldn't have been kicked out of school."
A pause. "Let me talk to the teachers. I can explain—"
The last thing Scarlett wanted was to see him or anyone from his family ever again.
"Don't bother. Just stay out of our lives. That's the best apology you could give me."
"Wait." His voice stopped her from hanging up. "There's something else."
She gripped the phone, waiting.
Another few seconds ticked by. "Brielle called me about the accident. She says she can't afford the settlement. Could you... maybe drop it?"
Everything from the past few days—all the anger, the hurt, the exhaustion—came rushing back.
"What gives you the right to ask me that? Is she your mistress now?"