“I’m not going anywhere with you. I’ll head home by myself.”

“And what am I supposed to do?”

“Do whatever you want.”

Really, was the illustrious Mr. Jamison supposed to worry about getting home?

Jamison just smiled, said nothing, and waved over the waiter to settle the bill. Then he stood up and walked over to her.

“Come on, enough with the drama. I’ll take you home.”

He moved closer, slipping his arm naturally around Ivy’s shoulders. She squirmed in protest but didn’t pull away.

She lifted her hand to push him off, but just then, a surprised voice rang out from the entrance. “Uncle James? Ivy? You two-?”

Ivy turned around, her expression freezing mid-motion. The hand she’d raised dropped back to her side.

Jamison looked a little surprised too, one eyebrow arching. “You’re quick on your feet, Micah. Where’d you rush in from?”

Micah stared fixedly at Jamison’s arm, still looped intimately around Ivy’s shoulders. His face went rigid, almost as if he’d just caught a cheating spouse.

He ignored Jamison’s question, his mind spinning as he tried to process what he was seeing.

“Ivy, you and my uncle… are you really together?” Micah’s voice was heavy, almost anguished.

A moment ago, Ivy had wanted nothing more than to get away from Jamison, but now, her reply came instantly, almost on reflex. “Yes, you saw it yourself. Why bother asking?”

Jamison looked down at her in surprise, then his lips curled into a deeper smile.

Finally, a confession.

Even if it was just for show, it was still a statement.

He felt a surge of satisfaction, tightening his arm around Ivy’s shoulders as if claiming her.

With his tall, imposing frame, the gesture made Ivy look delicate and soft by his side–a strikingly good-looking pair.

“No, no way…” Micah shook his head, hands balling into fists, looking like he was about to take a swing at someone.

“Ivy, how could you be with him? He’s my uncle–he’s supposed to be your elder…” Micah’s fists clenched tighter, his voice rising in anger.

Having accused Ivy, he turned his fury on his uncle. “Jamison! This is too much! You know I love Ivy. You know I can’t live without her, but you still had to take her from me!”

“Micah, remember who you’re talking to.” Jamison turned, his expression suddenly cold, his voice steely with warning.

“Screw that! Did you remember who you were when you stole my girlfriend?” Micah shouted, heedless of the crowded restaurant, voice echoing across the room.

Ivy had had enough of the scene. She shot Micah a cold look and snapped, “Micah, stop kidding yourself. I was never interested in you. Even if it wasn’t your uncle, it would’ve been someone else. But it was never going to be you.”

With that, she grabbed Jamison and stormed off. “Let’s go.”

But Micah wasn’t ready to give up. He hurried after them, calling, “Ivy, Ivy! Wait, just listen to me-”

Ivy ignored him, picking up her pace.

Just as they were about to leave the restaurant, Micah rushed forward and grabbed her arm.

“Ivy, please–I’m sorry, okay? I know I screwed up. I never should’ve let Emma come between us, but it’s over–she means nothing. I love you! You’re only with my uncle to get back at me, aren’t you? Ivy, we were each other’s first love, remember? I can’t believe you’d let go so easily. Ivy—”

Micah pleaded desperately, his expression bleak and defeated, on the verge of dropping to his knees to beg her to stay.

Jamison hadn’t wanted to make a spectacle, so when Ivy dragged him away, he didn’t resist.

But his nephew’s pitiful display was starting to grate on his nerves.

He fixed Micah with a cold stare, his voice as icy as his gaze. “Let go of her, Micah.