The Ex-Wife's Redemption: A Love Reborn Chapter 168

After leaving Isabella's hospital room, Scarlett clutched the envelope containing fifty thousand dollars tightly.

For once, her pockets weren't empty, but the weight of the cash reminded her that her daughter still refused to provide her with any support.

She hurried along Manhattan's busy streets, her heart filled with resentment toward Sophia.

David Hernandez was waiting in their cramped apartment in a run-down area of Brooklyn. As she entered, he immediately noticed the bulging envelope in her hand.

"What's that?" he asked, his eyes narrowing with interest.

Scarlett tossed the envelope onto the rickety coffee table.

"Money. From someone who actually cares about me, unlike my ungrateful daughter."

David snatched up the envelope, his fingers quickly counting the bills. As the total grew, his eyes widened. "Fifty thousand? Where did you get this much cash?"

"That beautiful woman I told you about—Isabella Scott. She gave it to me," Scarlett collapsed onto the worn-out couch, kicking off her shoes. "She said there's more where that came from if I help her."

David didn't hesitate to stuff the money into his pocket, as if afraid Scarlett might change her mind about handing it over. His behavior didn't surprise her—Scarlett had long accepted his parasitic nature.

"What does she want from you?" he asked, barely concealing his excitement.

"She wants information about Sophia," Scarlett explained. "And she made it very clear—we shouldn't bother her unless she calls us. She's sick, needs peace and quiet. Said she'll contact me when she needs something else."

Scarlett couldn't help but think about the expensive jewelry Isabella wore so casually. The diamond on her finger probably cost more than everything Scarlett owned combined.

"You know who this Isabella is, right?" David's eyes gleamed with a predatory light. "She's Henry's sweetheart—his childhood love. Word on the street is he's been crazy about her for years. They're practically soulmates."

Scarlett nodded absently. "Yeah, she mentioned something like that."

David had never been much of a provider. He drifted between odd jobs, preferring to spend his days drinking cheap beer and watching TV. No decent woman in the neighborhood would look twice at him. If Scarlett hadn't been desperate after her divorce, carrying the stigma of a failed marriage, she might never have settled for him.

He leaned forward, lowering his voice as if sharing a conspiracy. "Listen, if we play this right, we could be set for life. We need to help Isabella become Mrs. Harding. Think about the payoff if we help her replace your daughter."

Scarlett hesitated, a flicker of maternal instinct momentarily surfacing. "I don't know... Sophia is still my daughter. Helping someone break up her marriage seems wrong."

David's laughter was harsh and mocking. "Your daughter? The one who lets you live in this dump while she enjoys the Harding millions? Has she ever treated you like a mother?"

His words stung Scarlett. Since marrying into the Harding family, Sophia had been cold and distant toward Scarlett, never once offering financial support despite their obvious wealth.

"What kind of daughter watches her mother struggle for money and doesn't lift a finger to help?" David continued, pressing his advantage. "Forget that useless sentiment. Sophia only cares about herself and her comfortable life. Your best bet is to get on Isabella's good side."

His logic was persuasive. The more she thought about it, the deeper Scarlett's resentment toward Sophia grew.

"You're right," Scarlett finally said, her resolve hardening. "What kind of daughter treats her mother like garbage? I raised that ungrateful bitch, sacrificed everything for her, and how does she repay me? By humiliating me in front of everyone! A daughter like that isn't worth protecting."

"That's more like it," David grinned, clearly pleased with Scarlett's change of heart. "We should call Isabella right away, see if there's anything else she needs."

Before Scarlett could reach for her phone, David grabbed her arm, roughly pulling her toward him.

His breath was hot and foul, reeking of alcohol as it brushed against Scarlett's neck.

"What's the rush?" he growled, his hands already tugging at her clothes. "Miss Scott isn't going anywhere. Come here—let me have some fun first."

He didn't even bother taking Scarlett inside. Right there in the dingy living room, he yanked down her pants, his movements urgent and selfish.

Across town, Henry sat in his luxury car, following Sophia and Alexander at a discreet distance.

The pair walked casually along Fifth Avenue, deeply engaged in conversation, with Alexander occasionally gesturing animatedly, making Sophia laugh in response.

*When was the last time she laughed like that with me?* Henry wondered bitterly.

Every interaction between them seemed to end in arguments and cold silence. Yet here she was, completely at ease with this stranger from Aspen.

When he watched them enter one of Manhattan's most acclaimed restaurants, Henry felt a stab of jealousy so intense it was almost physical pain.

Through the large windows, he could see them being seated at a table near the front. A waiter approached with a complimentary bouquet of flowers, clearly assuming they were a couple.

Sophia appeared flustered, shaking her head and explaining something to the waiter. However, Alexander seemed to enjoy the misunderstanding, smiling and graciously accepting the flowers with a nod.

Henry couldn't bear it. He entered the restaurant, requesting a table where he could observe them without being noticed. Throughout their meal, he watched their interaction. With each passing minute, his grip on his fork tightened until the metal began to bend.

"Sir," a concerned waiter hesitantly approached, "I need to ask you not to damage the cutlery."

Henry glared at the young man, who quickly retreated. Part of him wanted to storm over to their table and demand to know why his wife was dining with another man—but he wasn't worthy.

The woman he'd believed to be pure and innocent, Isabella, had tried to murder his wife and son. Worse still, Sophia had never told him about it.

When Sophia and Alexander finished their meal, Henry quickly arranged to anonymously pay their bill. It was a small gesture, but the only one he could think of at the moment.

When the waiter informed me our meal had been paid for, I was confused. "There must be some mistake," I insisted. "We haven't paid yet."

"The gentleman at table seven took care of it, ma'am," the waiter explained with a polite smile.

"Which gentleman?" I asked, scanning the restaurant.

The waiter gestured toward an empty table. "He's just left, but if you'd like to know who it was, we can check the surveillance footage."

Minutes later, I was staring at the security monitor, my heart racing with anger as I recognized Henry sitting alone, watching us throughout our entire meal.

"I'm sorry, Alexander," I said quickly. "I need to take care of something. Please wait here."

I hurried outside, spotting Henry just as he was getting into his car.

Hearing my footsteps, he turned around, his usually stern expression softening into an unexpected smile that lit up his entire face.

I stopped before him, taking a moment to catch my breath, one hand resting on my hip. When my breathing steadied, I addressed the irritatingly grinning man before me.

"Mr. Harding, may I ask how much our meal cost you?" My voice was icy despite my flushed cheeks.

His smile widened. "We're still husband and wife, Sophia. Do we really need to be so formal about such small matters?"

I pulled out a wad of cash from my purse and thrust it toward him. "Who's your wife? Ex-husband, sir!"

The bills fluttered between us, carried by the cold winter breeze.