From Ashes to Queen: Now I Call the Shots novel Chapter 81

Chapter 81 No One to Blame but Yourself

Stanley stormed off, seething with rage.

But Luke grabbed his arin. “Did you not hear her just now? With that kind of attitude, how are we supposed to talk?”

Stanley shot him a furious glare, unable to suppress his temper.

Luke, however, stayed calm. He pointed toward Scarlett in the distance. “Look, she only walked a few steps and then stopped. She’s waiting for you to coax her.”

Stanley frowned and turned to look.

Sure enough, Scarlett and Colt were standing in the shadows of a tree, talking on the phone.

“She overplayed her hand,” Luke said in a low voice. “Now she’s trying to find a way to save face.”

“I get that you’re mad. I’m mad too. If this were under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t even wait for you to speak–I’d deal with her myself.”

“But right now, we don’t have the upper hand.”

“Once your career’s back on track, once you’ve flipped the script, you can deal with her however you want.”

He patted Stanley’s shoulder.

“There’s a major awards gala coming up–the Startrack Awards. If you land a major role before then, you’ll move up a whole tier socially. By that point, neither Scarlett nor The Dreamer will matter at all.”

Stanley had been livid, but with Luke’s words echoing in his ears, the fire in his chest began to subside.

A true man knew when to bow and when to rise.

Why obsess over the moment?

He took a deep breath, calling on every ounce of acting ability he had to compose himself. His expression softened, and he walked quickly toward her.

From a distance, he caught Scarlett’s voice: “Thank you, Mr. Raymond.”

He knew that name–Raymond was one of the first directors to accept a script from The Dreamer, and it had won countless awards.

Pride swelled in Stanley’s chest.

So she did care about him, after all. She was out here calling in favors–for him.

The sting of her earlier rejection faded slightly. Maybe he’d come on too strong at first. Maybe he’d been too harsh. That wasn’t all her fault!

And seeing how hard she was working on his behalf… maybe he could let bygones be bygones.

He was the older one, after all. It was–only right to make the first move.

“Scarlett,” he called out softly as he approached.

Chapter 81 No One to Blame but Yourself

She had just hung up the phone and was surprised to see he hadn’t left. Not only that he was comin toward her again.

What now?

Hadn’t she been clear enough?

Was he addicted to humiliation?

Stanley caught the startled look on her face and felt even more pleased with himself.

He spoke with smug authority. “Alright, let’s stop pretending. Go get cleaned up and change your clothes. I’ll take you home to the Joyner family.”

Scarlett stared at him, baffled.

So that was his new tactic? Try to disgust her into handing over the rest of her unsold scripts?

“What makes you think I’m pretending? Next time, find yourself a mouth–guard demon to keep your trash words from spilling all over the place.”

He couldn’t believe it–he’d just extended an olive branch!

Even if Scarlett had pleaded for him behind the scenes, this was too much.

“I swear, you’re completely out of line!”

“Fine! You want to burn this bridge? Go ahead!”

“Don’t think I’ll ever treat you like a sister again. Even if Rebecca begs me, you’ll never set foot in the Joyner house!”

Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Idiot.”

Then she grabbed Colt’s arm and walked off.

You couldn’t fight a curse–but you could sure as hell get away from it.

Luke ran up in a panic. “What happened? Why’d she leave? Did you settle things or not?”

Stanley, shaking with fury, slammed his fist into a nearby tree.

His hand instantly swelled red with pain.

“I’ve spoiled her too much,” he hissed. She’s forgotten her place.”

“She actually dared to talk back to me! If I give her an inch now, she’ll be walking all over me by tomorrow!

“Forget her.”

“She’s just putting on a show in front of others.”

“I guarantee you–if we walk to the campus gate, she’ll come chasing after us to apologize.”

Luke didn’t quite believe it.

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