Chapter 123 Did You Think of Him When Something Happened
Scarlett listened, and the pieces clicked into place. This was a trap, a joint operation between Wesley and the Gold Valley District police.
Ultimately, Cleo was just collateral damage. Wesley was using her to force Scarlett's hand, a desperate, pathetic move from a man who refused to admit defeat. He truly was a lost cause.
She turned to comfort Cleo. "You've filed a police report, so they'll investigate. The truth will come out. For now, just go home, get some rest, and wait for the results."
"But I signed the receipt," Cleo said, her voice trembling with anxiety. "How can I prove my innocence?"
Scarlett gestured toward a car that was just pulling away. "See that man? That's Felix, Silverlight City's most renowned lawyer. Do you really think Wesley stands a chance against him?"
Cleo's shoulders relaxed slightly, but confusion still clouded her face. "Why would Wesley go to all this trouble to frame us? Just because we're both quitting?"
Scarlett had wanted to shield Cleo from the uglier truth, but it was too late for that. There was no point in hiding it now.
"It's not about us," she said softly. "It's about me."
Cleo's mind immediately jumped to the most obvious conclusion: Wesley was bitter that Scarlett had left the Ross Group for the Boleyn Group.
"But he's the one who fired you!" She exclaimed, indignant. "That's insane!"
Scarlett let out a faint sigh. "There's some personal history between us. We can talk about it later."
Cleo's ride-share arrived, and Scarlett saw her off before getting into Felix's car. The moment she sat down, he handed her his phone.
"It's Ambrose."
Scarlett took the phone, pressing it to her ear. Ambrose's deep, steady voice flowed through the receiver.
"Wesley's making a desperate leap. He won't be jumping for much longer."
A wave of calm washed over Scarlett. It was a strange sensation; she wasn't afraid of Wesley, but hearing Ambrose's voice settled something deep inside her.
She gazed out the window at the quiet, tree-shaded street baking under the midday sun. "Okay," she breathed into the phone.
She hadn't told him a thing, yet he knew instantly that she was in trouble. The realization sent a traitorous flutter through her chest.
"We'll talk more when you get back," he said, his voice softening as if her single word had been enough to reassure him.
Felix dropped Scarlett off at the Boleyn Group headquarters. Before he left, he brought up her divorce settlement. He planned to formally request the asset transfer from Wesley in the next couple of days. If Wesley refused to cooperate, they would initiate legal proceedings.
That was exactly what Scarlett wanted. She was done with Wesley and any lingering ties to him.
Back in the office, she was immediately summoned to Ambrose's office.
"When something like this happens, does it not even cross your mind to call me?" Ambrose stood up, his expression stern as he closed the distance between them.
Scarlett met his intense gaze. Now that he mentioned it, she realized the thought hadn't occurred to her. She was so used to handling everything on her own.
His scowl deepened. Was he really offended that she hadn't reached out?
"It was just a small thing," she said softly.
"A small thing?" He challenged, his voice sharp. "Or is there something else you're worried about?"
Since he was pushing, Scarlett decided to be honest. "We're equals in this arrangement. I can't just keep asking you for favors."
Her answer seemed to infuriate him. Her boundaries were so rigid, always drawing a clear line between them. But he knew he couldn't force the issue.
He gripped her shoulders, his touch firm but not harsh. "I know what you're worried about," he said, his voice dropping with a frustrated sigh. "But you need to remember, whatever I do for you, I'm just repaying a debt."
The debt. Scarlett knew exactly what he meant.
"And besides," he continued, his tone hardening again, "anything related to Wesley is still part of our deal. Which means you need to keep me in the loop so I can handle it."
The mention of their deal hung in the air, chilling the room.
Scarlett lowered her gaze. "Okay. I understand."
"Wesley won't be gloating for long. I'm preparing to make a move on the Ross Group. He'll be contacting you a lot more frequently after that. Let me know the second anything happens."
She looked up at him, but he just gave a curt nod. "That's all. You can go back to work."
Scarlett left his office and returned to her desk, but her mind was a million miles away.
When it was time to leave, she picked up her phone and sent Ambrose a message.
[Are you coming home for dinner tonight?]
The reply didn't come quickly. He really is angry, she thought. Fine. Let him be angry.
She packed her things and headed out. It was rush hour, and she had to wait for two full elevators before she could squeeze into one.
Inside, two women were gossiping in hushed tones.
"I heard Mr. Boleyn was furious this afternoon. Ranting about how the company culture is going downhill, people drinking on the job, that kind of thing. The director of the design department apparently got the worst of it."
"I heard that too."
"Apparently, there's some kind of 'welcome toast' tradition for new hires in that department."
"Serves them right. Who indulges that kind of behavior?"
"The design director thinks he's untouchable because he was hired by the old chairman."
Scarlett's eyelashes fluttered. She knew instantly what this was about. Ambrose had found out about her lunch with the clients.
Just then, her phone buzzed. It was a reply from Ambrose.
[No.]
One word, dripping with ice.
She didn't text back. After leaving the office, she went straight to the daycare to pick up the kids and drove home to Lakeside Garden.
Later that night, after tucking the little ones into bed, Scarlett sat in the living room, waiting. But it wasn't Ambrose who returned; it was a call from Finnian that broke the silence.
He was calling to tell her he'd won the bid for the network engineering project, thanking her for her part in it.
After the business talk, the conversation drifted. They brought up his offer to treat her to a meal, and Scarlett promised to take him up on it once things settled down, just the two of them.
Just as she said it, the front door opened. Ambrose walked in, pausing in the entryway. He heard her on the phone, and his expression darkened when he recognized the name she was saying.
He kicked off his shoes as Scarlett ended the call. To him, it looked like she'd hung up deliberately to avoid him.
"It's late," he said, his voice flat as he glanced at her. "Still chatting with people?"
"No, I was waiting for you," she explained, getting to her feet. "Finnian just happened to call, so we were just talking."
Ambrose, who had been loosening his tie, paused. "Waiting for me? For what?" He resumed tugging at the buttons on his collar.
Scarlett wrung her hands, walking over to him. "Are you angry about what happened today?" she asked, her voice earnest.
Ambrose, his top buttons now undone, started walking toward his bedroom. "Do you think I should be?"
Scarlett hurried to catch up. "I honestly wasn't thinking. I just wanted to figure out what was going on."
Ambrose stopped at his bedroom door and turned to face her. "And what about Heath forcing you to drink? Did you ever think about telling me about that?"
Scarlett bit her lip. "That was just a conflict between colleagues. What would be the point of telling you? Besides, if I can't even handle something that small, how am I supposed to function at work?"
He let out a heavy breath. "Forget that for a second. What about the video of Opal causing a scene at the school? It was all over the internet, and you didn't even mention it to me."