Chapter 58 Wait for Me Obediently
Wesley walked out of his room, eyes on his phone screen displaying Delta's number. He tapped to call her back.
"Wesley, where have you been these past few days? You couldn't even call me once?" Delta's voice came through—that pouty, mock-accusatory tone that made it clear she wasn't actually mad anymore.
Wesley caught it immediately. The corner of his mouth curved up as he teased, "You said you needed a few days to cool off. I didn't dare disturb you."
Delta launched into her complaints. "I think you just don't care about me. Other girls' boyfriends would find ways to see them no matter what—but you?"
"Delta, I divorced for you. I didn't reach out because I didn't want to mess with your head. I wanted you to think things through clearly. I don't want you to have regrets."
Women loved when men made sacrifices for them. Wesley divorcing for her filled Delta with satisfaction. Her irritation evaporated, replaced by pure sweetness.
She asked in that syrupy voice, "So when are you getting divorced?"
Wesley stopped walking abruptly, staring into the distance as a shadow flickered through his eyes. "If nothing goes wrong, tomorrow."
"Goes wrong? Is Scarlett trying to back out?"
Wesley resumed walking, his voice soft and soothing. "No, it's just some company stuff that hasn't been sorted out yet. Don't worry, I'll handle it."
"Okay. What were you doing just now?"
Delta was making small talk. Wesley lied without missing a beat. "Just finished up some business negotiations. Called you right back the second I was done."
Delta didn't suspect a thing. With all her worries gone, she just wanted to see him as soon as possible.
"I really want to see you, but Dad won't let me leave the house right now. Tomorrow, after you finalize the divorce, come straight to my place with the papers. Let Dad see how serious you are."
Wesley stepped into the elevator, pressing the floor number. He couldn't be happier that Delta wasn't going anywhere—it gave him more room to execute his plan.
"Then be a good girl and wait for me at home."
Delta hung up, completely charmed. Wesley, having successfully placated her, pulled up Scarlett's messages. After reading them, his mouth curved into a smirk. He darkened the screen.
He wanted her desperate.
Hadn't she been avoiding seeing him this whole time?
Tonight, he'd make her beg for it.
Scarlett couldn't reach Wesley. She paced restlessly around the house, calling everyone she could think of to track down his schedule. Finally, around six in the evening, she learned Wesley would be at a private club in Evergreen Club for business entertainment.
She decided to go see him there.
Eight o'clock. Neon lights crisscrossed in neat rows, illuminating the night like day.
Scarlett stepped out of the taxi and looked up at the Evergreen Club sign. She took a breath and walked through those doors.
Inside, she gave Wesley's room number. A server led her through the space—all gold and glitter, a real money pit for the wealthy.
When they knocked on Wesley's door, she stood at the threshold. Inside came the sounds of men and women laughing and flirting. Through the light, she could see about a dozen people sitting around a circular table in the center of the room.
All eyes turned toward her.
Her expression remained calm as she took two steps forward.
"Sorry to interrupt. I'm here to see Mr. Ross."
Wesley, seated among the group, saw Scarlett. He narrowed his eyes and deliberately pretended not to notice her—or not to hear—as he leaned toward the man beside him, speaking in low tones.
The others' gazes shifted from Scarlett to Wesley. Seeing Wesley ignore her, no one else felt comfortable bringing her up.
In this kind of situation, Scarlett maintained her facade of calm, wearing a polite smile as she walked in. She stopped directly beside Wesley.
"Mr. Ross, could you step out for a moment? I have something important to discuss with you."
Wesley still didn't stop his conversation. The man he was talking to finally nudged him. "Mr. Ross, someone's here for you."
Only then did Wesley pause, lifting his head slightly. The look he gave Scarlett was ice-cold. "Can't you see I'm busy?"
Scarlett ignored his glare and simply said, "Mr. Ross, I won't take much of your time. One minute, that's all."
"Not even one second. Whatever it is, wait until Mr. Mitchell and I finish talking." Wesley gave no quarter.
All eyes fell on Scarlett again. Some people recognized her—knew she was a designer at the Ross Group, though she'd been recently blacklisted. One man, clearly interested in her looks, spoke up teasingly.
"Well, well, if it isn't Ms. Mellon—talent and beauty all in one package. Sit down, have a few drinks with us."
As he finished speaking, the man stood and moved toward Scarlett, reaching to pull her along.
Scarlett quickly stepped back twice, dodging him. She shot him a cool look. "I'd rather not crash your party."
The man froze for a second. Scarlett took the opportunity to turn and leave. She'd barely lifted her foot when Wesley's voice stopped her in her tracks.
"You want to see me, but you won't even drink one glass?"
The threat was clear in his words. She'd expected this before coming, so she didn't panic. She stopped walking and looked at Wesley.
"What I came to discuss with Mr. Ross isn't just important to me—it's important to you too. But I'm not your employee or... anything to you. There's no reason I should be here drinking with you guys. If you need someone to keep you company, I can call some hostesses for you."
She paused, then asked lightly, "Would you like me to?"
Wesley stared at her, silent for a long moment. Scarlett met his gaze calmly, a slight smile on her lips.
"Looks like you don't need that. Then I'll wait outside. We can talk after you're done entertaining."
With that, she turned again and walked toward the door with unhurried grace.
Scarlett's appearance barely caused a ripple in the room. Everyone quickly returned their attention to the laughter and conversation.
The man beside Wesley kept his eyes fixed on the direction Scarlett had disappeared, something dark flickering in his gaze. Then he turned back. "Mr. Ross, still drinking?"
Wesley collected himself, his mouth immediately curving into a smile as he raised his glass to clink with the other man's. "Mr. Mitchell, here's to a successful partnership."
"To success."
Scarlett left the room and tucked herself into a corner not far away. She'd just have to wait until Wesley's drinking party wrapped up before she could talk to him.
She pulled out her phone to chat with Briar. Briar asked about tomorrow's divorce proceedings. Scarlett felt uncertain.
QuirkyVibes: [Scarlett, tomorrow's your final battle. You better come back victorious!]
JoyfulJourney: [You make it sound like you're sending me to war.]
QuirkyVibes: [That's exactly what it is—a battlefield without the smoke.]
She was right. It was a battlefield without smoke. This marriage to Wesley had been like fighting a messy war for years. Now she was exhausted, just waiting for tomorrow's final battle to end so she could rest and recover.
"Ms. Mellon."
A voice—neither loud nor soft—sounded above her head. She looked up to see the man who'd been sitting beside Wesley.
Wesley had called him Mr. Mitchell. Could he be from the Mitchell family?