Chapter 103 So Her Biological Father Is You
Yara squirmed in Scarlett's lap the moment she spotted the needle, her little legs kicking frantically. "No shots, Mommy! I don't want a shot!"
Scarlett struggled to keep hold of her thrashing daughter. Ambrose, watching from beside them, extended his arms. "Let me take her."
Scarlett looked up and transferred Yara into his embrace. The little girl's bottom lip jutted out as she whimpered, "Ambrose, I'm not getting a shot."
"It's not a shot," his voice dropped to that low, soothing register. "They just need a tiny bit of blood to check for germs so the doctor knows which medicine to give you."
Yara blinked up at him, fat tears clinging to her lashes. Her voice came out in hiccupping sobs. "Blood draw is a shot."
Ambrose reached up to brush away her tears with his thumb. "You're a brave girl. This is nothing you can't handle. Besides, Hayden never cries during shots. I know you're just as tough as he is."
His words made Yara pause mid-sob. She stared up at him, her brow furrowing. "Hayden's a boy. I'm a girl. It's different."
Standing off to the side, Scarlett's lips twitched. Her daughter's logic was sharper than most kids her age.
"Girls are just as strong as boys," Ambrose countered smoothly. "Or are you saying you're not as good as him?"
Yara's stubbornness flared—being told she was lesser than anyone was clearly more offensive than any needle. Her head snapped up. "I am not!"
Right on cue, a nurse appeared at the window. "Yara? Ready for your blood draw, sweetie."
Yara immediately thrust out her little arm, then just as quickly yanked it back. She peered up at Ambrose uncertainly.
"What's wrong?" He asked gently.
Her tiny voice came out fierce despite the wobble in it. "You can't say I'm not as good as other people."
He nodded solemnly. "Anyone brave enough to do this is definitely not less than Hayden."
"If you could hold her arm out for me?" The nurse called through the window.
Ambrose didn't even flinch at the title, simply coaxed Yara forward. "The nurse is waiting for you."
Yara heard it too—that word. Dad. She'd grown up without a father around, always aching for one. She gazed up at Ambrose wordlessly, then slowly extended her hand toward him. He wrapped his much larger hand around her tiny one and guided it to the counter.
Leaning down, he murmured against her ear, "Press your face right here against my chest. If you can't see it, you won't be scared."
Yara followed his instructions, burying her face in his shirt. And just like that, the fear melted away.
She didn't make a single sound throughout the entire blood draw. Scarlett watched in stunned silence.
The fact that Ambrose could calm Yara so completely caught her completely off guard. Her mind snagged on the nurse's earlier comment—calling him Yara's dad—and how he'd offered zero correction. She studied him with new eyes.
He really did look the part. A father bringing his sick daughter to the hospital. Though she knew Ambrose had always shown extra affection toward Yara. Maybe that fondness just translated into extra patience.
"Such a brave girl!" The nurse praised once the vial was full.
Yara finally lifted her head from Ambrose's chest, beaming proudly at the medical staff.
Ambrose stood in one fluid motion, one arm supporting Yara while his other hand pressed gauze to the needle site. He moved toward the waiting area like she weighed nothing at all.
Scarlett shook herself from her thoughts and hurried after them.
"Ambrose," Yara's little arms looped around his neck as she spoke in that sweet, testing tone, "that nurse thought you were my daddy."
Ambrose glanced down, catching every micro-expression on her hopeful face. One eyebrow quirked teasingly. "You didn't like her calling me that?"
"No!" Yara's head shook frantically in denial. She actually really liked him. If only he could be her dad.
A smile tugged at Ambrose's lips. Seeing Yara's reaction, he turned to Scarlett, walking alongside them. "What about you? Do you like when people call me Yara's dad?"
Scarlett's head tilted to meet his gaze. She caught the playful glint there and feigned obliviousness. "I wasn't paying attention." Then, realizing how that sounded, she added with a slight huff, "You didn't correct her either."
His smile turned knowing. "Funny how you didn't notice what the nurse said, but you sure noticed what I didn't say."
Scarlett groaned internally.
Before she could respond, she heard him mutter under his breath, "I didn't want to correct her."
Scarlett fell completely silent.
The diagnosis was a viral infection. With a prescription in hand, the three of them headed for the exit. They were nearly to the elevator when a sharp voice sliced through the air.
"SCARLETT!"
The sound made Scarlett's entire body go rigid. That voice. Opal's voice. She whipped around to see her former mother-in-law charging toward her like a woman possessed.
Scarlett already had psychological scars from this woman. Every single time Opal appeared, she managed to turn Scarlett's life completely upside down.
"You evil bitch!" Opal shrieked as she closed the distance. "You threw Wesley in jail, and now you're parading around with another man! I'll kill you for this!"
She lunged. Ambrose reacted instantly, yanking Scarlett out of harm's way. Opal missed her target and crashed to the floor instead. The moment she hit the ground, she started wailing, slapping her thighs dramatically.
"Someone help! This shameless whore was cheating on my son, and when he found out and tried to divorce her, she had her lover throw him in jail! She's a monster!"
Her voice carried like a bullhorn, echoing through the entire hospital corridor.
Passersby stopped to gawk. Scarlett knew Opal's talent for spinning lies—give her an inch and she'd fabricate an entire scandal.
"Just because you can throw a tantrum doesn't make you right," Scarlett shot back, her voice steady despite her racing pulse. "Wesley is in jail because he and my stepsister were caught trafficking a child. That's a crime."
"You're lying!" Opal screeched, pounding her fists on the floor. "My son would never do such a thing! You're framing him—"
"What the hell is all this noise? This is a hospital, not your living room. Take your drama outside." A nurse's sharp reprimand cut through Opal's theatrics.
The nurse glared down at the woman on the floor. "It's you again. You've been causing scenes all day. Now, who are you trying to scam by playing victim on the floor?"
"Pull this stunt one more time, and security will escort you out." The nurse's tone left zero room for argument.
That shut Opal up. She scrambled to her feet, then immediately pointed at Yara in Ambrose's arms. "That's my granddaughter. I want to hold her."
She reached for the child. Ambrose's expression turned glacial. His hand shot out, catching Opal's wrist in an iron grip. He twisted.
"Ow! Let go of me!"
"Touch this child again," his voice dropped to something dark and lethal, "and I'll break your hand." He released her with enough force to send her stumbling.
Opal staggered backward and deliberately let herself fall. From the floor, she started howling again.
"She's my granddaughter! What gives you the right to keep her from me? Unless—" Her eyes darted between Ambrose and the sick little girl nestled in his arms. Something seemed to click in her twisted mind. "Wait a minute. I always wondered why this kid looks nothing like my son. Now I get it—you're her real father!"
"You need actual proof before you start spouting garbage," Scarlett hissed.
"Garbage? Let everyone here take a good look! This man and this child—tell me they don't look exactly alike!" Opal hauled herself upright, gesturing wildly.