Chapter 105 She Is Not Worthy of You
After dinner, Scarlett retreated to her room to check on Yara.
Ambrose, meanwhile, had taken a call from Chase and needed to head out. Before leaving, he stepped into Scarlett's room. Because Yara was ill, she slept in Scarlett's room so that her condition could be monitored at any time during the night.
He walked in just as Scarlett was gathering her clothes for a shower.
"How's Yara doing?" He asked, walking over to the bed to look at the sleeping Yara.
His gaze lingered. Yara's little face was flushed an unusual shade of red, a telltale sign of the fever, yet even so, she was arrestingly beautiful.
He reached out and gently touched her forehead, relieved to find it wasn't as hot as before.
"The high fever's broken. She's still running a low-grade one," Scarlett said.
Ambrose nodded, then straightened up. "I have to go out for a bit."
Scarlett hadn't expected him to come in just to tell her that. She looked up at him, then dropped her gaze and murmured a soft, "Okay."
Seeing her with her eyes downcast, a familiar urge took over. He slid an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. "Is that all the reaction I get?"
Scarlett was a bit unaccustomed to this, she twisted her body and said, "Yara is here!"
"She's asleep," Ambrose murmured, his voice a low rumble.
"Mommy…"
The faint whisper was like a bucket of ice water. Scarlett shoved him away in a panic.
Ambrose let out a sigh of pure frustration.
Ignoring him completely, Scarlett rushed to the bedside. Yara's eyes were still closed; she hadn't woken up. A wave of relief washed over Scarlett, terrified that Yara might have seen them. The soft call had just been a bit of sleep-talking, something Yara did often.
Ambrose came up behind her. Seeing Yara still lost in her dreams, he sighed again.
"It's like she exists solely to cockblock me."
After that little scare, Ambrose didn't dare try to hold Scarlett again. A few moments later, he left the bedroom and headed out.
Alone in the room, Scarlett sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes fixed on Yara's sleeping form, a storm of emotions churning inside her.
It was the first time her child had been sick, and someone had been there with her at the hospital. It felt good. Too good.
In the past, she'd been the one to single-handedly manage Yara through every test and examination, leaving her utterly drained. But today, Ambrose had carried Yara, taken her to every appointment. It was an ease she'd never known.
Having someone by your side to help, it really did make a world of difference.
But she was terrified of getting used to his presence, of depending on his care. When the time came for them to go their separate ways, she wasn't sure she could go back to how things were.
The thought sent a jolt of panic through her, leaving her feeling lost and utterly adrift.
Ambrose left Lakeside Garden, his car speeding toward the Boleyn Manor.
"Mr. Ambrose Boleyn," Chase said from the driver's seat, "I heard from Jett Griffin, the butler at the manor. Someone snitched to your grandfather, Mr. Cody Boleyn. Told him everything about you and Ms. Mellon, especially all the things you've been doing for her. Apparently, Mr. Boleyn threw a massive fit."
Ambrose, sitting in the back with his eyes closed, didn't miss a beat. "Was it my second uncle, Gage Boleyn?"
"It seems so."
"Tattling behind my back is the only move he has left," Ambrose scoffed, his tone dripping with contempt.
Chase glanced at him in the rearview mirror, noting his calm, composed expression. "What are you going to tell Mr. Boleyn about your relationship with Ms. Mellon when you see him?"He asked, his voice laced with concern.
Truthfully, Chase was dying to know himself. Was Ambrose serious about a future with Scarlett, or was this just about righting a past wrong?
Ambrose kept his eyes closed. "I'll tell him the truth," he replied coolly.
Chase's brow furrowed. The truth? What did that even mean?
He didn't understand, but it made him morbidly curious to see how Cody would react. Not that Cody's reaction mattered. When it came to Ambrose's life, no one could dictate his choices. After all, it was Ambrose who now held the reins of the Boleyn family.
When Ambrose arrived at the Boleyn Manor, the estate was brilliantly lit but eerily quiet. Besides his grandfather, his uncle Gage's family also lived there.
Gage was in the living room when Ambrose walked in, and he immediately put on his 'concerned elder' act.
"Ambrose, you're here."
"Uncle Gage," Ambrose's voice was slow, deliberate, like a predator drawing out the hunt. "Still up this late? Were you waiting for me?"
"Not waiting, exactly. I just heard you were coming back and thought we could have a little chat," Gage said with a practiced smile.
Ambrose glanced at his watch. "If you want to talk, you'll need to make an appointment with my secretary," he said, his voice flat and cold. "Right now, I have to see Grandfather."
Gage's face turned an ugly shade of purple. Just then, Jett, the butler, appeared.
"Mr. Ambrose Boleyn," he said with a formal bow, "Mr. Cody will see you now."
Ambrose gave Jett a slight nod and strode toward the study without a backward glance at Gage, who was left sputtering, pointing a trembling finger at his nephew's back.
"That bastard!"
"Mr. Gage Boleyn, I suggest you watch your tongue," Jett warned, his voice sharp as ice.
Gage shot him a glare, then threw his hands up in disgust and stormed off toward his own wing of the house.
Ambrose entered the study to find Cody sitting at his grand desk, a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose as he examined some document.
"Grandfather," Ambrose announced his presence.
"You're here," Cody acknowledged without looking up.
"You summoned me so late. Is something wrong?" Ambrose cut straight to the chase.
Cody finally looked up, his gaze sharp. He paused for a few seconds before asking, "I hear you've been getting close to Owen Mellon's daughter recently."
"I have," Ambrose admitted without hesitation.
Cody's brow furrowed. "Getting involved with her at a time like this is a dangerous game."
He took off his glasses, placing them on the polished mahogany. Leaning back in his chair, he continued, "I also hear she's divorced, with a child. Ambrose, a man of your stature… the woman you marry, even if she isn't from a prominent family, should at least be a woman on her first marriage. Not a divorcée with a kid."
A humorless smirk touched Ambrose's lips. "Grandfather, aren't you getting ahead of yourself? Her daughter is in the same class as Hayden. She's the only person Hayden feels comfortable with, the only one he'll talk to. I simply sent Hayden to stay with her so she could help with his condition. Where is your mind going with this?"
Cody was taken aback. This was a detail he hadn't been told.
"You're saying Hayden is receiving therapy from her?"
Ambrose nodded. "He's been living there for a while. The change is significant. He's started talking again."
A genuine smile finally broke through Cody's stern facade. "Hayden is finally willing to speak? Bring him back for a visit in the next couple of days. I want to have a proper conversation with him."
"Of course," Ambrose agreed instantly. "I'll bring him over on Saturday. He can stay with you for the weekend."
"Excellent," Cody beamed, clearly delighted at the prospect of seeing his great-grandson.
He seemed to reconsider his earlier stance. "I also heard she's working at the company now and even secured the art museum project. She seems capable. If it weren't for her previous marriage, she would have been a suitable match. Owen was a man of integrity. Such a pity."
Another dry chuckle escaped Ambrose. "You think it's a pity for her, Grandfather? She probably wouldn't even give the Boleyn family the time of day right now. Owen may be out of power, but you know the real story behind it. The day his name is cleared, you might find yourself trying to curry favor with them, and it'll be too late."