Chapter 73 Tonight I Stay Here
Ambrose let out a low chuckle. "You're right. We need to wait for Scarlett to get her money first, then turn what's left of the Ross Group into worthless scraps."
Truth was, Ambrose had been thinking the same thing all along. But Wesley kept pushing every single one of his buttons, and he'd finally snapped. Struck first.
Guess he'd have to pump the brakes. For now.
After a few more minutes of strategy talk, they ended the call.
No sooner had he hung up with Felix than Mason's name lit up his screen.
"Ambrose, Delta just tried to kill herself. She's in the hospital right now—all because I won't give my blessing to her and Wesley." Mason's voice cracked slightly. "I'm calling to ask you to back off. Just this once."
Ambrose read between the lines immediately. His recent moves against the Ross Group had Wesley cornered, so naturally, the bastard went running to Delta.
"I'm not backing off, Wesley. Not a chance." His voice turned to steel. "I'll have Chase send you a full report of everything he's done. Every last dirty detail."
"The kind of man who'd pimp out his own wife before the divorce papers are even signed? You really need me to spell out what he'll do to Delta down the line?"
"If you can't see through him after all that, then I've got nothing else to say."
"Ambrose, I know Wesley's bad news, but Delta—" Mason's voice turned desperate. "She's my only daughter. If something happens to her, none of this matters. All my money, all my work—it's all meaningless."
"Then Delta needs to see Wesley's true colors for herself," Ambrose shot back. "What's he pulling now? Carbon copy of how he played Scarlett back in the day. Maybe you should figure out a way to show Delta who he really is."
"For Delta to see through him..." Mason trailed off. "Ms. Mellon would have to get involved."
"I'll ask her."
Ambrose ended the call and let out a derisive snort. Wesley really did plan to leech off women his whole damn life.
After several days of rest, Scarlett's emotions had finally leveled out. When it came to Wesley, though? She wouldn't give an inch.
Ambrose hadn't shown his face these past few days. Hayden had been picked up for a two-day visit with his father, then promptly returned.
May 20th—the day Hayden came back—he brought Scarlett a single flower.
Her eyes went wide with surprise, but warmth bloomed in her chest. She pulled him into a hug. "Thank you, sweetheart."
Yara, watching from the side, immediately puffed up with displeasure. She jabbed a finger at Hayden.
"Hayden, you're supposed to give flowers to your dad. I'll give flowers to my mom."
In Yara's world, Scarlett belonged to her. Nobody got to share.
"I'm not competing with you," Hayden said evenly. "Relax."
Yara was used to Hayden's matter-of-fact way of speaking by now, but she still wasn't happy. She wanted to be the only one giving Scarlett flowers.
"Yara, honey, Hayden's flower is just to say thank you. Your flowers are about love. It's different." Scarlett knew exactly what was running through her daughter's head—the fear of anyone stealing her affection.
That seemed to satisfy Yara. She nodded, mollified.
But just when Yara thought she'd defended her territory from Hayden, another threat emerged. That evening, Ambrose showed up at Lakeside Garden clutching a bouquet.
The second he walked through the door with those flowers, Yara's eyes lit up like sparklers. She flew across the room.
"Ambrose! Are those flowers for me?" Her gaze locked onto the stunning blue roses, practically glowing with hope.
Ambrose kicked off his shoes and crouched down to her level. "You want me to give you flowers?"
Yara nodded vigorously. "Hayden already gave flowers to Mommy, so yours must be for me, right?"
Her logic was adorable in its confidence. Ambrose plucked a single rose from the bunch and held it out.
"Here."
Yara's face fell. She pointed at the massive bouquet still in his hands. "Wait—so you want to give that whole thing to Mommy?"
Called out, just like that. Ambrose's gaze lifted to the living room, where Scarlett was chatting with Hayden. She looked over at the sound of Yara's accusation.
"That's right," Ambrose said.
"No way! I'll give flowers to Mommy. You guys can't!" Yara bolted toward Scarlett.
She scrambled onto the couch with her hands and knees, then planted herself firmly in Scarlett's lap, wrapping her arms around her mother in a death grip.
"She's MY mommy. None of you can have her."
A soft laugh escaped Scarlett as she gathered Yara's small, warm body close. "Nobody can steal me away, baby. I promise."
"Then you can't take his flowers." Yara tilted her head back, fixing Scarlett with an unwavering stare.
Honestly, Scarlett had no intention of accepting them anyway. Taking those flowers would mean accepting him. She wasn't ready to jump into a new relationship—especially not this fast.
Keeping things simple between them seemed like the smart move.
"Okay. I won't take them." The words were as much for Ambrose's benefit as Yara's—a signal not to push this.
But Ambrose acted like he hadn't heard a thing. He walked to the center of the living room, still holding the bouquet.
"On my way here, I saw this little girl selling flowers on the street. Looked pretty pitiful, so I bought a bunch off her." He glanced around casually. "Where should I put these?"
The audacity of this man. He'd just invented an entire sob story about a flower-selling street urchin. Was he seriously that stubborn about saving face?
Such a proud idiot.
Since she knew exactly what he was doing, Scarlett played along rather than reject him outright. "This place isn't really set up for fresh flowers. Why don't you take them back to your place?"
Ambrose set the bouquet on the coffee table and dropped into the chair across from her, his gaze boring into hers. "Too much hassle to haul them back and forth. Just toss them."
Scarlett didn't respond. She looked down at Yara, who was still clinging to her like a tiny koala.
Then, in the sweetest voice imaginable, Yara piped up, "You could give them to me. I'll put them in my room."
Silence from Ambrose.
The corner of Scarlett's mouth twitched. God bless this child—sent from heaven to rescue her.
Scarlett took both kids back to their rooms for bath time. Ambrose headed to Hayden's room, positioning himself just outside the bathroom door while the boy washed up.
"You gave your flower away?"
Hayden paused mid-motion, about to pull off his shirt, and nodded.
A flicker of irritation crossed Ambrose's face. Hayden's flower got accepted. His didn't.
Without thinking it through, he headed straight for Scarlett's bedroom. She'd just finished getting Yara set up for her bath when water splashed onto her clothes. She went back to her room to change and shower—only to find someone already inside.
Her brow furrowed. Seeing him there brought that night rushing back.
"What are you doing in here?"
Ambrose turned to face her, his gaze practically adhering to her skin. He didn't answer her question. Instead, "You're really not going to take those flowers?"
"I promised Yara. I can't."
She moved toward her closet to grab pajamas, but his sudden presence in her bedroom made her hyperaware of everything. Even though they'd already slept together.
"You also promised me," he said quietly, "that you wouldn't pretend nothing happened."
Scarlett's hand stilled on the fabric. He was bringing that up again. She turned to face him, exasperation written all over her features. "That night was an accident. You helped me, and I'm grateful, but right now my situation is complicated. It's not the right time for... this."
"Then accept the flowers now. We'll deal with the rest when your situation is less complicated." He wasn't exactly forcing her hand. Not quite.
Seeing how stubborn he was being about the damn flowers, Scarlett switched tactics. "Fine. Leave them here. I'll tell Yara you gave them to her."
"I'll take that as you accepting them." Ambrose closed the distance between them, his eyes locked on hers.
"I'm staying here tonight."