Chapter 65 Divorced
"The Ross Group situation—that was you, wasn't it?" Wesley confronted him.
Ambrose shot him a dismissive glance, not bothering to deny it. His voice dripped with cold arrogance. "This is just the beginning. I hate people who go back on their word. Since you clearly didn't take my warning seriously, you'll deal with the consequences. Let's hope the Ross Group can weather the storm—and doesn't sink."
With that parting shot, Ambrose hit the button. The Hummer's window slid up with finality. A second later, the vehicle reversed sharply and disappeared from Wesley's line of sight.
Wesley stared at the retreating taillights, an icy dread creeping through his chest.
Ambrose's message couldn't be clearer: if Wesley didn't sign those divorce papers today, there'd be hell to pay. And Ambrose wouldn't stop until he got what he wanted.
The Ross Group couldn't handle any more hits right now.
Even if Wesley managed to claw back Scarlett's forty percent stake, it wouldn't matter if the company tanked. A bankrupt company's shares were worthless, including his sixty percent.
Cold sweat broke out across Wesley's forehead. His hands shook as he fumbled for his phone and dialed Scarlett's number.
Meanwhile, Scarlett was driving home, still replaying the earlier confrontation in her mind. Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen—Wesley's name flashed up. She declined the call without hesitation.
Moments later, a text appeared.
"Come back. We're getting divorced."
Scarlett pulled over to the side of the road, staring at the message. After a moment's consideration, she typed back: [I'll sign. But I'm keeping the shares. Deal or no deal?]
She hit send. A full minute crawled by before his response finally came through.
"Deal."
Scarlett blinked at the screen, genuinely shocked. He'd actually agreed. Ambrose must've done something major. Otherwise, Wesley would never flip this fast.
"Fine. I'm on my way," she texted back, no hesitation.
She put the car in gear, made a U-turn, and simultaneously called Ambrose.
"What did you say to Wesley?" Her tone stayed neutral, but curiosity leaked through. "He suddenly changed his tune. He'll even let me keep the shares if I sign."
"Looks like he's not completely stupid after all." Ambrose's low voice carried a ruthless edge. "You hit people where it hurts most. He knows what he stands to lose, so naturally, he's scared."
What Wesley cared about most was the Ross Group. So Ambrose had gone after the company directly.
So that's the ace he'd kept up his sleeve. No wonder he'd been so confident Wesley wouldn't back out.
Ambrose could be infuriating sometimes, but his strategic mind? Undeniably impressive.
Fifteen minutes later, Scarlett arrived at the courthouse. Wesley stood by the main entrance, looking utterly defeated. She got out of her car and walked straight past him without slowing down, tossing out a single command.
"Let's go."
Wesley's gaze followed her retreating back, dark and brooding, but eventually he trailed after her.
The process went smoothly. Within fifteen minutes, Scarlett held the finalized divorce papers in her hands. Staring at the documents she'd waited so long for, her entire body felt lighter.
Finally. She was free. No more living in that suffocating cage.
She tucked the papers away and rose to leave the courthouse.
"About that forty percent stake—when can I expect payment at market value?" Scarlett stopped at the entrance.
Wesley shot her a cold look. "Thanks to Ambrose, the Ross Group's on the verge of bankruptcy. You seriously think we have cash lying around right now?"
Scarlett had expected this response, so she wasn't surprised. A faint smile curved her lips. "Save the excuses. I know the Ross Group's foundation is solid. You've got one month. If I don't see the money by then, I'll have my lawyer handle it."
With that deadline delivered, Scarlett walked away. Her stride was purposeful and light, her slender figure moving with an almost carefree grace under the sunlight—captivating enough that Wesley found himself staring.
Watching her disappear, Wesley was hit with the sudden, inexplicable sense that he'd lost something precious. But he couldn't quite grasp what.
When Scarlett returned to Lakeside Garden, she spotted the Hummer already parked there. As her car approached, the window rolled down smoothly, revealing Ambrose's devastatingly handsome face.
She parked and looked over as he asked, "Got the papers?"
Newly divorced and feeling lighter than air, Scarlett nodded with a genuine smile. "Thanks for your help."
A rare smile ghosted across Ambrose's features. "Good. It's done, then."
"As for that forty percent stake, he probably won't pay you anytime soon. But don't worry—I'll have Felix follow up on it."
Scarlett's eyes widened. Felix Evans. The top attorney in Silverlight City. With him on the case, she'd have a ninety percent chance of getting that money.
But hesitation crept in. If Ambrose kept helping her like this, she'd owe him even more.
"Worried about owing me again? Afraid I'll make you repay me in... other ways?" Ambrose read her like a book, his tone mockingly knowing.
Scarlett felt a twinge of exasperation.
Then her face flushed hot. He had her completely figured out. Though, to be fair, her concern was perfectly reasonable. There's no such thing as a free lunch.
"Forcing things rarely ends well," Ambrose said suddenly, his words heavy with implication. "I'm not a fan of coercion."
Scarlett's cheeks burned hotter. She didn't entirely believe him... but she didn't disbelieve him either.
Still, she felt reassured. He wouldn't use this situation to demand something she wasn't ready to give.
Honestly, though, the unease lingered. They had no real relationship. Ambrose kept helping her, again and again. It would be normal for her to offer something in return.
She just wasn't ready to take that step yet. The thought made her feel oddly frustrated with herself.
"The Boleyn family and your Mellon family do have some history together," Ambrose said, perfectly timed to pull her out of her spiraling thoughts. "Consider this favor a nod to that connection."
Scarlett snapped back to attention. She'd never heard anything about her family having ties to the Boleyns. Was there something she didn't know about?
Perhaps catching the doubt in her eyes, Ambrose added, "You can ask your father about it sometime."
"Start at the company tomorrow," he said abruptly, changing the subject. Scarlett froze for two seconds.
"Mr. Boleyn, I've been thinking... How about I help you land the art museum project first, and then we can discuss employment? Does that work?"
They'd originally agreed she'd join the Boleyn Group once her personal matters were resolved. Now that she was divorced, she had no real excuse left. But anxiety still gnawed at her. She'd just escaped one trap—she wasn't eager to leap blindly into another unknown situation.
"You can't land the art museum project alone. You need a team." Ambrose's reasoning was frustratingly logical. "If you don't officially join, you won't have access to that team. So how exactly do you plan to win this bid?"
Scarlett gripped her steering wheel, lost in thought. Truth was, she didn't want to sign with any company right now. She wanted to finish the art museum project and then start her own firm. She was done being under someone else's control.
Ambrose watched her intently. When she remained silent, he asked, "You don't want to join the Boleyn Group, do you?"
"I really don't," Scarlett admitted honestly.
Maybe because she'd been burned before, she approached everything with more caution now.
Ambrose stared at her, his gaze sharp and penetrating, as if trying to read her very soul. After a full minute, he asked, "Did Wesley propose that you submit a design portfolio earlier?"