I directed my final words at Mary, making sure each syllable carried the weight of my threat. "Beautiful won being harassed by n is never the woman’s fault. And Mary-I suggest you control your tongue, unless you want soone to slap you in public."
"Rachel, release her," I commanded coldly, watching as Mary Simpson was finally freed from Rachel’s grip.
Though she no longer hurled insults, her eyes burned with enough hatred to incinerate both Elizabeth and on the spot. I couldn’t care less about her glare as I gently took my mother’s arm, feeling the slight tension in her body.
"Let’s say goodbye to Harper and leave," I said softly to Elizabeth, vanting to remove her from this unpleasant situation.
Elizabeth hesitated, her brow furrowing with concern. "Wouldn’t it be impolite to leave so soon? People might think..." Her voice trailed off, clearly worried about Skyview City’s inevitable gossip.
I squeezed her hand reassuringly. "It doesn’t matter. Why stay sowhere that makes you unhappy? Let’s go ho." My tone left no room for argunt—I just wanted to get her away from here. Yet internally, I calculated that Mary Simpson was the real loser today—publicly restrained by my security and threatened by .
How could her pride possibly recover?
Sure enough, Mary soon departed with Lucy in tow without saying goodbye to anyone, George following shortly after.
With those irritants gone, Elizabeth and I decided to stay, our mood considerably lightened.
During dinner, I noticed Elizabeth had relaxed sowhat. "That George Simpson is so rude, bothering you alwanys," I said.
She nodded, but I knew this wasn’t simple rudeness. During my entire marriage to Jack, George never ntioned any history with my mother. Why bring it up now? Unease settled in my heart like a cold stone.
Days later, Catherine confird my suspicions. "Mary threw a huge fit when they got ho. She’s staying at Murphy Estate now."
My heart sank. Despite Elizabeth’s public explanation, rumors spread like wildfire through Skyview City’s elite circles.
"Elizabeth was George’s old fla..."
"Elizabeth is intruding on George and Mary’s marriage..." "Like mother, like daughter—Shaw won set their sights on Simpson n..."
These vicious whispers wounded deeply. I decided to protect Elizabeth from this cruelty. "Stay ho from social events for a while," I told her, my voice gentle but firm.
Elizabeth seed to understand without explanation. "I’d rather stay ho anyway. Helping with the nursery sounds perfect." Her expression was calm, but I caught the hint of sadness in her eyes.
August 30th arrived-my twenty-fifth birthday. Due to my pregnancy, I kept the celebration small, inviting only my closest friends to Shaw Estate.
"Anna, happy birthday!" Catherine embraced carefully, avoiding my protruding belly.
"Thanks, be careful," I laughed, looking around at my intimate gathering-Oscar Porter, Samuel Griffin, Nora Price, and my trusted colleagues Daniel Davis and Sean Smith. This simple celebration was exactly what I wanted.
After dinner, Lily approached with an uncomfortable expression. "Ms. Shaw, Mr. Porter is outside. He’s been waiting for quite so ti."
Oscar cleared his throat. "Logan ntioned sothing this morning. I think he brought you a gift."
My chest tightened. Since rejecting Logan’s offer, I’d avoided him completely. After a mont’s consideration, I instructed Lily: "Please tell Mr. Porter to go ho."
Oscar awkwardly rubbed his nose, saying nothing more, while Samuel teased, "Ms. Shaw really has a heart of stone."
I rely smiled in response, though internally I thought:_Perhaps, but so boundaries, once crossed, can never be restored._
Considering my condition, my friends departed early. After showering, I checked my phone to find a ssage from an unknown number:
(Happy Birthday.)
Among the many birthday wishes Id received, this one from an unknown sender made my heart skip.
Instinctively, I knew it was from "3303," the man I’d blocked. His concise style was unmistakable.
As I debated responding, another ssage appeared:
[Tell Rachel to open the door.]
I nearly dropped my phone, staring at those three simple words on the screen.
My heart slamd against my ribs like it was trying to escape my chest. With trembling fingers, I hastily wrapped myself in my silk robe, not even bothering to call Lily for assistance.
My damp hair clung to my neck as I rushed downstairs, leaving wet footprints across the polished hardwood floors.
Clayton, Rachel, and Sean sat in the living room, their conversation about today’s security arrangents stopping abruptly when they saw .
"Ms. Shaw, is everything alright?" Clayton rose imdiately, his brow furrowed with concern.
I couldn’t form words. My mind was already outside, beyond those heavy oak doors. Without responding, I pushed past them and hurried through the garden, my bare feet padding along the stone pathway. The cool morning air prickled against my skin, but I barely noticed.
And then I saw him.
Marcus Murphy stood at the edge of my property, wearing black casual clothes instead of his customary tailored suits. A leather suitcase rested by his feet, and fatigue lined his face.
He looked nothing like the polished, untouchable Murphy scion—he looked like a man who had traveled through the night without rest.
"Mr. Murphy?" Rachel’s voice behind was pitched with shock as she rushed forward to open the gate.
Marcus stepped onto the property with his usual self-assured stride, stopping directly in front of . His lips curved into that familiar half-smile that always made my stomach flip.
"I was handling so business," he said, his deep voice resonating through my body. "Thought I’d stop by since it’s close. Just to check on you."
I stared at him, speechless. We had mutually ended whatever undefined relationship we’d had. We had returned to being strangers—at least that’s what I’d believed. So what was this? What was he doing?
His gaze dropped to my midsection, lingering on the pronounced curve of my six-month pregnant belly.
Sothing flickered in his eyes-an emotion too complex to na, too quick to analyze.
"Your hair is still wet. You shouldn’t be outside like this," he said, his tone gently scolding.
Before I could respond, he bent down and lifted into his arms with effortless strength. I heard Rachel’s sharp intake of breath behind us, saw Sean’s eyebrows shoot toward his hairline. Yet sohow, I wasn’t surprised-this was exactly the kind of thing Marcus Murphy would do.
He carried back into the house, past the stunned faces of my staff.
Their expressions all asked the sa silent question: _What is he doing here again?_
When he finally set down on the living room’s leather sofa, I found my voice again. I pulled my robe tighter around myself, trying to project a composure I didn’t feel.
"Did you co back specifically for my birthday?" I asked, my words escaping before I could filter them.
Marcus’s POV
Of course I had. I’d been planning this day for months, ticulously arranging my schedule, then leaving Peter and my entire team overseas to return alone. Right now, nobody except the Shaw household knew I was back in Skyview City. Warmth surged through , though my exterior remained composed.
"If I say no, will I be sleeping on the street tonight?" I said with half a smile, then surveyed the room, my voice dropping lower. "Don’t tell anyone I’m back. Not even the Murphy family."
The staff nodded dutifully. Rachel, Clayton, and Sean all gave their solemn promises, though I could tell they found my behavior unusual-like a fugitive returning ho. I couldn’t give them the full truth, nor did I want Anna to worry.
Anna’s gaze sharpened. "Has sothing happened?"
Looking into her concerned eyes made sothing sotten inside . It 1 disappeared suddenly again like before, this stubborn woman would likely explode and never let close again. When I’d maintained my distance over the years, Id sohow managed. But once you’ve touched what you desire, letting go becos impossible. These past months had been agonizingly long.
"Rivals have been watching closely.
I was careful coming back-changed vehicles twice," I said casually, omitting how I’d transited through a neighboring country due to security concerns. No need to tarnish her image of as collected and confident.
Anna looked directly at . "So you ca back specifically for my birthday?"
"Yes," I answered without hesitation, noticing the slight twitch of her eyebrow.
She appeared remarkably composed as she turned to Rachel. "Please have the kitchen prepare sothing for Marcus, and ready a guest room."
"Which room, Ms. Shaw?" Rachel asked.
"The third floor," Anna replied.
I couldn’t help but notice that previous guests at Shaw Estate typically stayed in first-floor guest rooms. The third floor was closer to her master bedroom —a realization that kindled a flicker of
hope in my chest.
Anna addressed again. "Uncle Marcus, please freshen up. I need to change." She was still in her robe, hardly appropriate for receiving guests.
I raised an eyebrow, surprised by her practical response. I’d never considered myself an outsider here, so I stood up.
"I’ll walk you upstairs."
My gaze inadvertently settled on her slightly rounded belly, stirring sothing unprecedented within -there was everything I wanted to protect.
After showering, I found Anna sitting in a small second-floor sitting room, reading with classical music playing softly. She didn’t look up when I entered.
"Food just arrived. You should eat sothing," she said calmly, her manner no longer formal as it would be with an elder, but carrying an ineffable intimacy.
Secretly pleased, I placed my prepared gifts on the coffee table in front of her and sat down to enjoy my al.
After dinner, Rachel cleared the dishes and everyone withdrew, leaving Anna to finally pick up my gifts. Seeing three jewelry boxes, she asked with surprise, "Uncle Marcus, what does this an?"
Instead of answering, I opened all three boxes. A sapphire necklace, clearly valuable; and two erald-green jade bracelets, obviously intended for children.
"Was it Catherine who told you?"
Anna asked, her gaze probing.
I betrayed my niece without hesitation:
"She told to make give up."
Anna studied intently. "Aren’t you curious about who their father is?"
I t her eyes, my voice steady and determined. "If you’ll allow it, I can be their father." My heart raced as I spoke-my first explicit expression of my feelings, and my first clear realization that I would give everything for her and these children.
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