Chapter 96 The Truth of the Past
Chase opened the door. Seconds later, he doubled back and informed Ambrose that Wesley had arrived.
Ambrose shot Brielle a glacial look. "I'm giving you a few minutes to think this through. When I come back, if you still won't tell me the truth, don't expect any mercy."
After Ambrose left, Brielle wrapped her arms around herself, torn between pain and hatred. But mostly, she felt crushing regret. She shouldn't have mentioned that incident to Wesley—then Ambrose's bodyguards wouldn't have overheard.
He'd been having her watched this whole time. Ambrose was terrifying.
Ambrose stepped out and entered the adjacent room. Wesley stood in the center, radiating impatience. When he spotted Ambrose, his tone was anything but polite.
"Mr. Boleyn, you had your people drag me here. What's this about?"
The sight of Wesley made Ambrose's jaw clench, his tongue scraping against his teeth. He charged forward and drove his fist straight into Wesley's face.
Wesley didn't see it coming. The impact sent him stumbling backward. Before he could regain his footing, another punch came flying—too fast to dodge.
Fist after fist. Each one was packed with enough force to send Wesley crashing to the floor. But Ambrose wasn't done. He hauled Wesley up by his collar, winding up for another round.
Chase rushed over to intervene, worried they'd beat Wesley unconscious before getting any answers.
"Mr. Boleyn, he deserves this, but we need the truth first." Chase's words did nothing to cool Ambrose's rage. He shoved Chase aside and went after Wesley again.
"Playing with Scarlett's feelings was bad enough," Ambrose snarled between punches. "But her child? You went after her child too? I won't stop until I've broken every bone in your body."
Wesley's brain finally caught up. So that's what this was about. He stopped struggling altogether.
Chase watched anxiously from the sidelines, about to call Scarlett for help when Ambrose's phone rang.
"Mr. Boleyn, answer it—it might be Ms. Mellon." Chase deliberately mentioned Scarlett, hoping it would snap Ambrose out of his fury.
It worked. Ambrose froze, murder still blazing in his eyes as he pointed at Wesley. "You better find that child. Otherwise, I'll make sure the Ross Group vanishes from Silverlight City."
He dug his phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen. Scarlett. She must've woken up and couldn't get out without the room code.
He dragged in several deep breaths, forcing his rage down before hitting accept. "I'll be right there."
He hung up and turned back to Wesley, still crumpled on the floor. "Brielle confessed everything. You forced Scarlett to carry those babies to term, then sold one of them for a hundred grand. But you better find that child. Trust me—you know what I'm capable of."
Wesley lay there barely conscious, offering no response as Ambrose strode toward the door.
---
When Scarlett woke up, her surroundings and the marks on her skin told her everything she needed to know. Fragments of last night flickered through her memory. She was surprisingly calm about it.
She looked around for Ambrose but didn't see him. When she tried to leave, she discovered the door was locked. Left with no choice, she called him.
Ambrose arrived quickly. When he walked in, Scarlett was sitting in the lounge area, her face unreadable, eyes tracking his every move.
"You're awake." His voice softened to something almost tender, the earlier violence completely erased.
He approached her, looking down with a faint smile. "Why are you staring at me like that?"
Scarlett skewered him with her gaze. "You promised me."
Ambrose sank into the chair beside her with fluid grace, immediately catching her meaning. His tone was maddeningly casual. "I promised not to come to Lakeside Garden. I never said anything about hotels." His lips curved wickedly. "Besides, are you sure I was the one who initiated things? Want to listen to the recording?"
He pulled out his phone and waved it at her.
Scarlett's mind exploded. He recorded it?
Her thoughts immediately spiraled to those horrifying news stories—men using intimate videos to blackmail women. Her eyes widened in panic.
Ambrose's brow furrowed. Reading her thoughts, his lips pressed into a hard line. "What the hell are you thinking? It's just audio."
Relief flooded through her, but still—audio was bad enough. She lunged for his phone. "Delete it!"
Ambrose's hand whipped back with lightning speed. "I'll delete it... on one condition. You stop trying to push me away. And when this is all over, I'm moving into Lakeside Garden."
The moment she'd agreed last night, she'd planned to go back on her word. But he'd kept this insurance policy. If she refused now, he'd probably play that recording on repeat until she died of embarrassment.
She knew exactly what state she'd been in. That audio would be mortifying.
Scarlett ground her teeth and nodded. "Fine. I won't back out. But you have to delete it."
A smile ghosted across Ambrose's lips. He leaned in and kissed her softly. "Silly girl. I was completely focused on you. Do you really think I had the presence of mind to record anything?"
He'd played her. Again.
Scarlett bit down hard on her frustration. Ambrose was absolutely ruthless. She shot to her feet, fuming.
"Open the door. I'm leaving."
Ambrose remained seated, watching her anger with poorly concealed amusement. But then his thoughts drifted back to the truth he'd just uncovered, and his smile froze.
He stood and gripped her shoulders, holding her gaze. "There's something I need to tell you. But you have to stay calm."
Scarlett was still irritated from being tricked. Seeing Ambrose suddenly turn serious, she assumed he was messing with her again. "What could make me lose my composure?"
Ambrose studied her face for several heartbeats before speaking. "It's about what happened four years ago."
Scarlett went completely still. The next second, shock flooded her eyes as she stared up at him. Ambrose continued, "I'm taking you to question Brielle and Wesley right now."
He wrapped an arm around her and guided her toward the door. Scarlett moved in a daze, letting him lead her while his words echoed endlessly through her mind.
They left the room and walked down a long hotel corridor before reality finally crashed over her. She stopped abruptly, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt.
"What's going on? Tell me now."
Ambrose stopped too, his expression grave. "Honestly, I didn't want you to know until I had all the facts. But I also can't stand keeping you in the dark."
He laid out everything he'd learned—brief, but thorough.
When he finished, Scarlett stood frozen, unable to process it.
She'd always thought Wesley forced her to have those babies so he could use them to strip her of everything in a divorce. She never imagined that the hundred thousand dollars from four years ago came from selling one of her children.
How dare he?
And Brielle—she'd tried to destroy her using such a vicious method.