Chapter 116 Ambrose Went Mad
Caught off guard by his sudden move, Scarlett instinctively tried to struggle out of his embrace. But his words stopped her cold. She let out a huff. "If I hit you, my hand is the only one that's going to hurt."
It was true. Ambrose was built like a brick wall; hitting him was asking for a bruised knuckle.
He loosened his grip, pulling her back just enough to look down at her. His gaze was urgent, desperate, as if she might vanish if he blinked.
"What will it take for you not to be angry anymore?"
Scarlett met his gaze with her own bloodshot eyes, then let her lashes flutter down. After a long moment, she spoke. "Ambrose, what I told you last time wasn't a joke. I'm really not looking to start a new relationship right now."
He couldn't bear to hear the rest. "I won't force you," he cut in, his voice tight. "But if you think you can just cut me off completely, I won't accept it. I don't care what you see me as in the future. I'll take anything."
He paused, then added, "Besides, a woman your age... you have needs. Finding a lover on the outside, you'd have to worry about their health. You're not going to find another man like me—clean, fit, and skilled in bed. Being with me saves you a lot of trouble."
For a second, Scarlett thought she'd misheard him. She looked up, utterly incredulous, at a loss for words. Seeing her reaction, Ambrose decided to press his advantage, testing another, even more audacious idea.
"Or you could just think of me as your boy toy."
Scarlett was stunned. "Have you lost your mind?"
Ambrose decided to double down on the shamelessness. "Not at all. I'm being serious. Just think about what I said."
She just stared at him, searching his eyes. The terrifying thing was, she saw he wasn't joking. A cold laugh escaped her lips. "And why would I let the illustrious CEO of the Boleyn Group be my boy toy?"
He picked up her hand, his thumb tracing patterns over her long, slender fingers. "I'm very low-maintenance," he said, his tone deceptively casual. "Just give me a place to sleep."
Scarlett was in no mood for games. She snatched her hand back. "I have to get back downstairs. They'll start to worry."
Disappointment flickered across his face as he looked at his empty hand, but he didn't push it. Instead, he put on a chivalrous air. "I'll walk you down."
Without waiting for an answer, he turned and led the way to the door. Scarlett frowned. It wasn't like she was going to get lost. But he was already moving, so she had no choice but to follow.
On the way down, Ambrose acted as a human shield, keeping her tucked close to his side, ensuring no one in the crowded club could bump into her.
When she finally returned to their booth, Scarlett offered Finnian and Sawyer a small smile. "Sorry, that took a while. Shall we continue?"
"Everything okay?" Finnian asked, a hint of concern in his voice.
Scarlett shook her head. "I'm fine. Just ran into someone I know and we chatted for a bit."
That seemed to satisfy them. The four of them raised their glasses again, the lively atmosphere slowly returning.
A moment later, Briar leaned in close. "You ran into Ambrose, didn't you? He didn't do anything, did he?"
Scarlett shot her a questioning look. How did you know? Briar just nudged her chin in a specific direction. Following her gaze, Scarlett saw a booth not far behind them. Ruben was there, and of course, so was Ambrose.
Ruben caught her eye and gave a little wave. They had been sitting there the whole time, and she hadn't even noticed.
Her eyes flickered to Ambrose. He was nursing a glass, looking thoroughly miserable. Scarlett quickly looked away.
So, he's just going to sit there and wait until I leave.
She suddenly thought again of his words just now. He said he wanted her to treat him as her lover. How dare he think that!
Just to keep having sex with her, he even dared to say such shameless things. If people found out that the dignified president of the Boleyn Group was being treated as a lover by her, a divorced woman, what a scene that would be!
She shook her head, trying to clear the thought.
"What's wrong?" Briar asked, noticing the gesture.
Scarlett snapped back to the present. "Nothing," she lied, "Just a little crick in my neck."
Briar accepted the excuse and leaned in again, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. "I was about to come looking for you, but Ruben came over and told me you were with Ambrose and not to interrupt."
Hearing this, Scarlett's brow furrowed.
"Scarlett," Sawyer said suddenly, his voice cutting through her thoughts. "You're working at the Boleyn Group now, but with your talent, why haven't you considered starting your own firm?"
Scarlett looked up at him and offered a polite smile. "Sawyer, you're giving me way too much credit."
"I think Sawyer's right," Finnian, sitting on her other side, chimed in. "You're more than capable of going solo."
Scarlett just smiled, raising her glass and steering the conversation back to lighter topics.
From the other booth, Ambrose heard every word. He gritted his teeth. These two vultures were encouraging her to leave him, trying to poach his best asset right from under his nose.
" Ambrose. Looks like karma's finally come for you," Ruben said, clearly enjoying the show. "You stole Scarlett from someone else, and now two guys are trying to steal her from you."
Ambrose shot him a venomous glare, but Ruben was unfazed.
"Did you manage to clear things up with Ms. Mellon?" he prodded. "Because if not, she might actually be snatched away."
"Isn't that drink enough to shut you up?" Ambrose said, his voice dangerously low.
Ruben threw his head back and took a long swig of his drink, laughing as he swallowed. "To think I'd see the day. Ambrose Boleyn, sitting on the sidelines, watching his woman drink with other men and not daring to do a thing. This is a real eye-opener."
Ambrose's icy gaze shifted from Scarlett back to Ruben. "It sounds," he said slowly, "like you have a death wish."
Ruben immediately clammed up, deciding it was better to just watch the drama unfold.
Ever since she'd returned, Scarlett had felt a burning gaze fixed on her, making her skin prickle with unease.
Ambrose's intense stare was like a spotlight, making it impossible to relax and enjoy her drink. After a little while longer, she decided to call it a night, using the excuse that her son would be waking up and looking for her.
Just as the group was getting up to leave, a sharp voice cut through the music.
"That's him!"
They all turned to see Delta marching toward them with a few large men in tow, her expression thunderous.
"He's the one who hacked my phone!" Delta pointed an accusatory finger at Finnian, her pretty face twisted with rage.
Scarlett's own anger flared at the sight of her. "Ms. Powell, are you looking for a fight? You bring a crew over here and point at my friend?"
"He hacked my phone! He needs to be taught a lesson," Delta spat.
Finnian looked completely unbothered. "You were secretly taking my picture. I told you to delete it, you refused. So I used my own methods to delete it. Hacking your phone was the logical next step."
"I didn't take any pictures! You're just making trouble!"
"I saw the photos when I hacked your phone."
Delta didn't care. She barked an order at her goons. "Teach him a lesson."
As the men lunged forward, another voice, sharp and commanding, sliced through the air.
"Stop."
The goons froze, their eyes widening when they saw Ambrose. Delta, however, immediately ran to his side.
"Ambrose, you have to do something! This man hacked my phone!"
Ambrose rose from his booth and walked over, stopping right beside Scarlett. She tried to edge away, but there was nowhere to go. She was trapped.