Ambrose's ultimatum

Chapter 8

Michael's POV

"Why the shock?" I asked, observing Jason's dazed expression. I knew the truth was hard to swallow, but it was the only way for me to claim my inheritance ; the last thing I had left, at least until Emma's unexpected return.

Jason's eyes narrowed, his brow furrowed in concern. "What if Grandpa demands a legitimate heir before handing everything over to you? What if he doesn't approve of your six-month divorce plan?" I let out a low, mirthless chuckle.

"Enough of the what ifs," I said, my fingers drumming a restless rhythm on my thigh. "Do you think Grandpa bought the fabricated story about my marriage to Freya? I'm certain he saw right through it, even if he's pretending otherwise."

Jason's expression turned thoughtful. "Why be so hard on yourself, then? And who knows, you might actually fall for this woman." He said as I burst out laughing at the absurdity of the suggestion. The idea was almost too ridiculous to consider.

"Fall in love? Have I ever fallen for anyone but Emma? Come on, Freya is clearly not my type. She's short, skinny... and not blonde. Plus, she's too nosy and..." I trailed off, lost in thought.

Jason raised an eyebrow. "And what?"

I let out a sigh, my gaze drifting into space. "It's against the contract. We're not supposed to fall for each other. That's the one rule we can't break."

I said, and Jason took a deep, contemplative breath, indicating he understood my plight.

"She's pretty, though," he said, a hint of flirtation creeping into his voice. But I wouldn't even consider setting him up with someone like Freya. She was too nosy and talkative, and I suspected she might already be involved with someone.

I pushed the thought aside, my fatigue getting the better of me. "Never mind that. I need you to focus on finding the sender of that threatening message. I want you to track them down immediately."

"I'm on it. It may take some time, but I'll get to the bottom of it," Jason assured me, his expression determined. I nodded, and he stood up, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder, a familiar gesture that usually calmed my nerves.

My mind began to wander, wondering who could have sent such a menacing message. For a moment, Emma's face flashed in my mind, but I quickly dismissed the thought. There was no way she'd resort to something like that. We had all been victims of the same accident, after all.

Jason's voice brought me back to reality. "Everything will be okay. Just be careful not to raise any suspicions with your behavior towards Freya." I nodded in agreement, and he turned to leave, his hand on the door handle.

"Jason, wait," I called out, and he turned back to face me, his eyebrows raised in inquiry.

"I want you to keep an eye on Ambrose," I instructed, my mind still racing with concerns. "Find out what he's up to. I can't get this nagging feeling of him and my cousins off my mind, and I don't know what they have against me."

Jason nodded, his expression serious. I took a deep breath, feeling a pang of gratitude towards him. What would I do without Jason by my side?

"I'll get on that as soon as I sort out the schedules," he assured me.

"Thanks, Jay," I said, smiling weakly.

"Anytime, Mike," Jason replied, flashing a brief smile before turning to leave.

With Jason gone, I picked up my phone and began to sift through the messages I had ignored earlier. Grandpa's message caught my attention ; he was requesting a dinner meeting with Freya and me. I knew he was trying to get a read on the situation, but I had no choice but to play along.

****

Freya's POV

I stood tall, my legs locked in place, but a growing sense of unease stirred within me. But I refused to let anyone witness my vulnerability, especially Ambrose. I had to maintain a facade of strength.

Just as I was starting to feel like I'd been standing there forever, my phone beeped, breaking the silence. I glanced down to see a message from Ambrose:

[Get in the car, the red convertible sports car in front of you.]

A wicked smile spread across my face as I typed out a response to Ambrose's message. Did he really think I was the same naive Freya who would blindly follow his instructions?

[You said to meet at Fountain Tower, not to get in a car," I texted back, my fingers flying across the screen. If you're not planning to get out, I'd rather leave.]

I stood my ground, unmoving, as I waited for a response. The red sports car remained parked in front of me, its engine purring softly. But as the minutes ticked by with no reply from Ambrose, I decided I'd had enough. With a dismissive shrug, I turned to leave.

"Freya!" Ambrose called out, his voice stopping me in my tracks. I felt a flash of anger, after everything he had put me through. But I didn't turn back. Instead, I continued walking, my fingers flying across the screen as I typed out a response.

Just as I was about to send the text, my phone beeped again. Ambrose's message made my heart skip a beat;

[ thought you wanted to talk about... your son.]

I froze, my eyes fixed on the screen. It felt strange, almost surreal, to see Ambrose acknowledge my child as my son. He had never done that before. A shiver ran down my spine as I wondered if this was some kind of trap. But the mention of my son's name awakened a deep longing within me. I yearned to hold him close, to feel his tiny arms wrapped around me. My maternal instincts took over, and I felt myself being drawn back into the conversation.

Ambrose's voice sent shivers down my spine as he threatened, "You know, I wouldn't hesitate to send him where you can never find him if you keep acting all tough." I spun around, startled, realizing he had closed the distance between us without me noticing. This was the first time I'd seen him up close in three years, and the feeling that washed over me was pure, complete hatred. I'd rather share a room with a venomous snake than be near him.

Ambrose's voice was laced with venom as he asked, "How did you meet Michael?" He sipped his iced Americano, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as we found a place to sit. "Are you using him to get back at me, or is he using you to get revenge on Emma? Either way, I know there's no real love between you two."

I flashed my ring finger, a defiant smile spreading across my face. "Why do you find it hard to believe that your brother and I are married?"

Ambrose's chuckle sent a shiver down my spine. He dropped his drink, his full attention focused on me. "You do realize he's using you. You might think he's in love with you, but he isn't. He's only doing this for the inheritance. And there's only one thing to do to save the situation."

I rolled my eyes, frustration etched on my face. "I thought... you wanted to talk about my son? What's it with Michael and my wedding?"

Ambrose's words dripped with malice. "And you have my word, Freya. But that's if you will cooperate with me."

I laughed loudly, the sound echoing through the cafe. "Why should I help you, after everything you've done to destroy me?" My eyes burned with anger, my gaze piercing Ambrose's smug expression.

He didn't flinch. "That's the past, Freya. I know you're trying to get back at me, but you have to stop. Michael isn't as nice as you think. He's going to break you because the only woman in his heart is Emma."

Ambrose's words struck a nerve, and for a moment, I let the pain seep in. Why did I care if Michael didn't love me? We weren't supposed to be in love, as stated in the contract. But somehow, Ambrose's words managed to pierce through my defenses.

"The only way to save yourself is to come out of the relationship and reveal to everyone how he threatened to force you into the relationship. If you do that, you'll gain access to your precious son."

My heart tightened at the mention of my son. I had longed to hold him, to cuddle him, but the price Ambrose demanded was too heavy to pay.

"Why are you so confident that he forced me?" I asked, my voice laced with skepticism.

Just then, my phone rang, breaking the tension. I saw Michael's name on the screen and smiled, relieved by the timely interruption. "That's my husband, he just called. I have to leave. It's getting late."

I stood up, adjusting my short denim skirt. Ambrose's eyes narrowed, his gaze lingering on me. "Grandpa is seeking our presence for the party. If you decide to walk away without taking my hand now, you'll regret it. I'll make sure you do, and it's going to have to start from the dinner." I wondered how he got to know, Michael called me for the same reason.

I stared into Ambrose's eyes, a sense of determination washing over me. I couldn't believe I had wasted five years of my life loving a man like him.

Without a word, I turned my back on Ambrose, walking away with confidence as my red heels clicked on the cafe floor.