Chapter 3 Meeting Again, Want to Date

The man was also looking at her calmly, his thumb rotating the ring on his left hand, his narrow eyes betraying no emotion.

Caught off guard, Scarlett couldn't control her expression. Her startled reaction didn't go unnoticed by the others present—all emotionally intelligent enough to immediately grasp the situation.

These two knew each other.

Aiden especially took note, instantly abandoning his plans to give Scarlett a hard time. He stood up and gestured to her.

"Ms. Mellon, please sit here."

Scarlett recovered her composure and walked over stiffly, unsure how to proceed and deciding to take things one step at a time.

She had thought they would never see each other again, yet here they were, meeting the very next day.

She sat down beside this man and glanced around briefly, realizing she was the only woman at the entire dinner. Slightly awkward.

Before she could fully process her discomfort, Aiden began proposing toasts, and the drinking commenced. As Scarlett reluctantly reached for a filled glass, a deep voice questioned her from beside.

"Do you know how to light a cigar?"

It was the man next to her.

She turned to meet his dark, intense gaze, her heart inexplicably skipping a beat. She nodded.

"Yes."

His elegant fingers moved the cigar box on the table toward her.

"Light it."

The command was brief yet impossible to refuse.

Scarlett quietly accepted the cigar box, removed a cigar and the cutter, first trimming the smoking end. She then took out a professional lighter, tilted the cigar at an angle above the flame, and began to light it.

Scarlett's technique appeared professional, and seeing this, the others naturally refrained from pressuring her to drink, instead clinking glasses among themselves.

"Mr. Boleyn, here's to you. I hope you'll help me out in future business ventures!" Aiden said.

The man sitting next to Scarlett was Ambrose Boleyn, the 28-year-old head of the Boleyn family who had returned to Silverlight City six months ago and quickly become its wealthiest resident.

Last month, in a high-profile case that shocked Silverlight City, only Ambrose and the deceased had been present at the scene. Yet evidence indicated he was the victim, with the deceased bearing full responsibility.

Interestingly, the deceased had been a prominent figure in Silverlight City. The fact that even someone of that stature couldn't touch Ambrose spoke volumes about his influence.

Ambrose picked up his glass and clinked it lightly. "How is the new district project progressing?"

"Almost there. I'll have the blueprints sent to you for review once they're ready," Aiden replied respectfully.

These were the very blueprints Scarlett had been working on, though the contract remained in limbo, unsigned. Hearing the project mentioned, she listened intently.

"Make it quick," Ambrose said, his mild tone nevertheless conveying pressure.

"Of course," Aiden agreed.

Scarlett had finished lighting the cigar and spoke softly.

"Mr. Boleyn, it's ready."

Ambrose turned to look at her, his narrow eyes exerting a subtle pressure even when observing casually. Nervously, Scarlett handed him the lit cigar.

As he reached to take it, whether deliberately or accidentally, his long fingers lightly brushed against her hand before quickly withdrawing. The brief contact sent a tingling sensation through her.

Scarlett hastily pulled her hand back, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear to distract herself from the unexpected sensation.

Ambrose held the cigar between his fingers, watching her actions from the corner of his eye. His gaze made her scalp tingle until, mercifully, her phone rang in her purse. She quickly turned away, escaping his intense stare.

Taking the opportunity, she grabbed her phone and left the table to answer the call.

It was Briar calling to ask why she hadn't moved in yet. Scarlett explained Wesley's terrible behavior.

Briar cursed angrily, saying she would come help confront Yara.

"No need. I can handle it myself," Scarlett said.

"Just be careful then. Call me if you need anything."

Their conversation was brief and to the point. After hanging up, Scarlett gazed at the night view through the window, replaying Aiden and Ambrose's conversation in her mind.

Clearly, Ambrose was the project's principal owner.

How should she approach him about it?

From what she had observed, he didn't seem to dislike her. In fact, his ambiguous attitude toward her had prevented Aiden from giving her trouble. Perhaps she could use this to her advantage.

With this idea in mind, she prepared to return to the private room. As she turned, she spotted Ambrose standing not far away, cigar between his fingers, his back to her as he took a phone call.

She paused until he finished his call, then began walking forward. As she passed him, she stopped and turned to face him.

"Hello, I'm Scarlett Mellon," she said, feeling it necessary to introduce herself as a sign of respect.

Ambrose narrowed his eyes, took a drag from his cigar, and as he exhaled a thin mist of smoke, said intriguingly, "Are you propositioning me for sex?"

Scarlett froze, quickly understanding his meaning. They hadn't had sex at the hotel last time, and now here she was again—the situation did look suspicious.

"I'm not," she said softly, lowering her gaze in denial.

Ambrose gave a slight mocking laugh, then pulled a bracelet from his pocket and dangled it. "A misunderstanding? Then what did you mean by deliberately leaving this behind?"

Scarlett looked up to see the bracelet swinging in the air and was taken aback. So it had fallen off at the hotel.

"I didn't know I'd lost it there," she explained.

He chuckled lightly, his sharp gaze revealing nothing of his emotions. At the next moment, he tossed the bracelet into her hand with a scornful remark.

"Playing hard to get loses its appeal when overdone."

With that, Ambrose turned and walked away.

Scarlett stared at the bracelet, feeling inexplicably uneasy. He seemed to still want to sleep with her and was angry at being rejected.

With an anxious heart, she returned to the private room. Just as she was about to sit back in her previous spot, she heard Ambrose say ominously, "Aiden, others might not know my rules, but surely you do?"

Scarlett froze in place, seeing the cold glint in his narrow eyes and knowing the comment was directed at her.

Aiden looked completely confused by the sudden change. What rules?

In business circles, there was an unwritten rule that women were not allowed at Ambrose's dinners—a rule supposedly connected to the ring he always wore.

Though unconfirmed—after all, Ambrose had only been in Silverlight City for six months and few had interacted with him directly—someone with insider knowledge ventured cautiously:

"I believe Mr. Boleyn's dinners don't allow women to be present?"

They all exchanged glances, and after silently confirming this might indeed be a rule, they all looked toward Scarlett.

She was the only woman in the room.

But hadn't he been flirting with Scarlett just moments ago? Why bring this up now?

No one understood, but Scarlett did. He was lashing out after being rejected. She bit her lip and looked in Ambrose's direction, but he wasn't looking at her.

"Mr. Boleyn, this was my oversight. I'll have her leave immediately," Aiden said, smoothing things over while gesturing for Scarlett to exit.

She said nothing, simply walking back to get her purse, ready to leave.

"Breaking my rules and just walking away?"

The measured voice stopped Scarlett in her tracks. She paused halfway across the room and turned to look at Ambrose.

What did he want?

Everyone else held their breath, exchanging uncertain glances.

In this tense atmosphere, no one dared speak. Scarlett bit her lip and forced herself to explain.

"I sincerely apologize. I was truly unaware of your rule. Please accept my apology."

Ambrose leaned back in his chair, his narrow eyes fixed directly on Scarlett with an enigmatic expression, his fingers still playing with his ring.