Out of Control: Into Your Everything-Chapter 10: Brother

Scarlett Shaw looked at the man’s face, her expression complicated. "Uncle Bell."

James Bell said quietly, "Come with me."

Scarlett followed James Bell into a deserted alley nearby. She spoke first: "Uncle Bell, I really don’t have any money lately, but next month, I promise I’ll pay you back."

James Bell was unmoved. "I looked into Veridian’s salaries. You make at least twenty grand a month—not even counting your bonuses! Don’t tell me you can’t pay me back!"

James Bell was the subcontractor under Benjamin Shaw’s company back in the day, just earning some basic workers’ pay. But right as he took on a new project, Benjamin Shaw went bankrupt, and James Bell couldn’t pay his workers—he had to sell his house.

As if misfortune wasn’t enough, fate loves to mess with those already down.

James Bell’s daughter fell gravely ill, and the Bell Family was drained dry, couldn’t afford her treatment. She passed at fifteen.

Scarlett was eaten by guilt, but she genuinely had no money.

James Bell: "If you can’t pay, you can pay with your life! Vincent Grant lied to good people like us. You’re his daughter, and you still get to work at some fancy company like Veridian. Why is that?!"

There was rage in James Bell’s eyes, but pain too.

Scarlett saw it—he didn’t really want the money, just a place to vent, just wanted his daughter to come back.

The folding knife shot straight toward Scarlett.

Scarlett trembled, but didn’t move.

The tip of the blade was just inches from her eye.

James Bell’s hands shook—he couldn’t do it. He squatted on the ground, clutching his head, weeping: "If only my daughter was still here... She’d be about your age. She could’ve survived—all because I was useless...couldn’t save her..."

Scarlett’s eyes dimmed. She pulled out her phone and transferred her last living expenses to James Bell.

"Uncle Bell, I only have five thousand left right now. I promise I’ll pay you the rest as soon as I can."

James Bell wiped his tears. In his weathered eyes, there was hatred—but also mercy.

Scarlett lowered her gaze and whispered, "I’m sorry."

James Bell: "I’ll never forgive Benjamin Shaw."

James Bell took the money and turned to leave.

Scarlett: "Uncle Bell."

James Bell stopped and looked back at her.

Scarlett: "How did you know I work at Veridian?"

Her social circle was tiny; these years, the closest people to her were only Ryan Ford and Yana Yarrow. Even her college friends didn’t know she’d gone to Veridian.

Plus, with so many creditors, she guarded her privacy carefully, never sharing personal info lightly.

James Bell: "Last time I ran into your cousin, Chloe Grant. She told me you work with her at Veridian. Good benefits, high pay—said your debts are almost paid off!"

...

Scarlett walked out of the alley alone—and caught a pair of dark eyes looking her way.

Under the moonlight, Julian Ford stood tall and straight against the wall. That cold, pale moonlight lay across his sharp features, making him seem even more distant.

Scarlett had no idea why Julian Ford would be here.

Some reflex made her immediately greet him, polite as ever: "President Ford."

Julian Ford looked down at her. "Last time you came to ask for money—was it to pay off a debt?"

Scarlett: "I was out of line that time. President Ford, you might as well forget it."

Julian Ford: "You think you can just tell me to forget, and I will?"

"..."

Scarlett took a deep breath, swallowing her urge to punch someone.

She’d just given all her money to James Bell; now she only had a few hundred for food. She definitely couldn’t afford to offend her ’meal ticket’ standing in front of her.

Scarlett forced a smile. "Or...would you prefer to remember it for the rest of your life?"

"Since you’re so strapped, why not go to Ryan Ford?" Julian Ford mused, lifting his lip—not a trace of a smile. "Ah, right. You told me before. Because of true love."

Yes yes yes, everything you say is correct.

He’d said all there was to say; what else was left for her?

Scarlett looked down, trying to stay submissive—just wanting to leave. "President Ford, I have things to do, I’ll get going."

Getting chewed out by the boss after hours—might as well be overtime.

Scarlett turned to go.

"Stop."

Julian Ford called out lazily.

Scarlett’s frustration surged. She turned back to Julian Ford and had to plaster on a smile again.

Julian Ford: "You just wired all your money away—planning to starve?"

Scarlett finally realized, "You heard all that just now?"

Julian Ford glanced at her, cool and distant.

Scarlett drew a deep breath. "Didn’t it cross your mind to step in at all?"

Julian Ford: "And why should I?"

He asked it as if it were nothing, aloof and uncaring.

Scarlett: "And what if James Bell actually stabbed me—would you just watch me die?"

Even one-night stands meant something—was he really that heartless?

"If you couldn’t be bothered to dodge, maybe you didn’t want to live. I’d be happy to help."

Julian Ford toyed with a pebble in his hand, speaking carelessly:

"But I could always take care of your corpse, let Ryan Ford know, invite him to the funeral. He might even shed a few tears for you—enough for you to die in peace."

Scarlett: "That’s too bad, really—I’m planning to live a hundred years. I doubt you’ll get the chance."

Studies say men die years before women, after all.

Julian Ford was five years older than her.

Revenge is a dish best served cold—even if it takes ten years.

The day Julian Ford is in the ground—that’s the day Scarlett Shaw finally breathes easy!

Julian Ford caught the flicker of smugness in her eyes, lips tugging imperceptibly upward. He pulled out his phone and tapped away a few times.

Scarlett’s WhatsApp chimed with a new message.

Julian Ford had sent her a transfer of half a million.

Half a million meant nothing to Julian Ford; to Scarlett, it was complicated—she understood it was both an opportunity and a trap.

Julian Ford was signaling to her—she could approach him, but never without strings attached.

This money was the bait.

Julian Ford didn’t plan to give Scarlett time to think. He’d already walked to the Bentley on the side of the street and was getting in to leave.

This man was capricious, perched on power. If she missed this chance, another wouldn’t come.

Scarlett shot into the passenger seat just before the car door closed.

Half an hour later, Julian Ford brought Scarlett back to Cloud Mansion.

Julian Ford shrugged off his suit jacket, hanging it carelessly. He loosened his cuffs with practiced laziness, glancing at Scarlett still standing in the doorway.

"If you wanna act like a tree, go find a plot up in the Grelnock Range, bury yourself, and see if you can photosynthesize there. I don’t have time to stand around."

"..."

Scarlett honestly wasn’t being coy—she simply didn’t have any experience, and that night, Julian Ford had led the whole thing.

Impatience flashed in Julian Ford’s eyes.

Scarlett scrambled to kick off her heels, came over to him, and—relying on the moves that’d pleased him that night—stood on tiptoe, bold but bashful, and tried to kiss him.

He was too tall—if he didn’t lower his head, she could only reach his chin.

Scarlett couldn’t quite get to Julian Ford’s lips. She clutched at his shirt, coaxing, "President Ford..."

Julian Ford arched an eyebrow, looking amused, as if toying with a kitten, lightly pinching her nape. "What did you just call me?"

Scarlett’s face burned.

She’d spent a night with Julian Ford—she knew a little about his tastes in this area.

Scarlett’s eyes shimmered with tears. Softly, she said, "Brother."

Julian Ford slid his hand from her nape to her jaw, tilted her chin up, and kissed her.