Anna’s POV
The hospital’s fluorescent lights cast a harsh glow over Sean’s pale face. His head was swathed in white bandages, a stark contrast against the dark bruise spreading from beneath them. Despite his injuries, his eyes focused on with an intensity that made uncomfortable.
"Ms. Shaw, why are you still here? You should go ho and rest. I’m fine," Sean urged, his voice carrying more anxiety than pain. His eyes kept prompting toward the door, as if my pregnant presence in the sterile room was sohow more concerning than his own head injury.
Beside , Marcus stood silently observing Sean’s face. I caught his brief, assessing glance, but Sean seed oblivious to it, his attention locked entirely on .
"I’m not tired," I smiled, trying to ease his tension. "All I did today was eat, drink, and sleep. I barely moved." It was true-George Simpson’s forced hospitality had involved a lot of sitting around in luxurious rooms.
The doctor had confird Sean needed several stitches and showed signs of a mild concussion. The crystal vase Mary Simpson had wielded like a weapon could have done far worse damage.
"Rest well, and you can be discharged tomorrow if everything checks out. I’m giving you a few days off to recover properly," I said, my voice softer than usual.
Sean managed a weak smile. "Thank you, Ms. Shaw."
Guilt tightened my throat, rembering how he’d thrown himself between Mary’s rage and my pregnant body. "I should be thanking you. You saved my life again." I glanced down at my rounded belly. "And you saved my babies again too."
Sean’s face flushed with discomfort. "I —I was just closer, and Mr. Murphy had already shielded you. I was just clumsy—if I’d pushed Mrs. Simpson away instead, I wouldn’t have gotten hit."
I studied his face, the earnestness there unmistakable. This young man, like Marcus, had the instinctive reaction to protect with his body. Though touched, I didn’t want anyone sacrificing themselves for .
"Don’t do this again," I said, my tone carrying equal parts gratitude and warning. "If anything serious happened to you, how would I face your father? When I initially helped you, it wasn’t so you could risk your life for ."
Sean opened his mouth as if to say sothing important, but after glancing at Marcus’s imposing figure, he seed to reconsider. "I’ll be more careful next ti. Ms. Shaw, Mr. Murphy, please go ho and rest.
Don’t worry about —I’ll be fine."
Joseph yawned theatrically from his corner chair. "You did well today," he said, pointing lazily at Mia. "Ms. Shaw should give you a nice bonus."
Mia bead, her earlier dramatic tears completely vanished. "Thank you, Mr. Walker, thank you, Ms. Shaw. I think I might have so real acting talent!"
Rachel had already transferred money to her account, and Mia winked at with newfound confidence. "Ms. Shaw, call next ti you need help with sothing like this."
"Let’s hope there isn’t a next ti," I shook my head, feeling the weight of the day settling into my bones. One kidnapping and family showdown was more than enough for my pregnancy.
The mont we stepped through the front door of Shaw Estate, Elizabeth rushed forward, her face twisted with fury. Rachel had already called ahead to brief her on what happened after Mary Simpson’s attack.
"That woman nearly hurt my daughter!" Elizabeth’s hands trembled as she reached for , her eyes quickly scanning for any signs of injury.
Finding none, she turned her wrath toward Marcus. "George Simpson is too vicious. He’ll definitely cause trouble with the Murphy family now."
Her worried gaze fixed on Marcus.
"Weren’t you planning to leave tomorrow night? Should you visit Murphy Estate before you go?"
Marcus nodded, his expression revealing nothing of his thoughts.
"Given what’s happened, I should go explain the situation. Besides, now that George’s true nature has been exposed, I’m concerned he might try to harm Annie again."
Elizabeth nodded repeatedly, her anxiety finding an outlet in the constant motion. "Yes, yes, William needs to keep him in line. This is outrageous-he’s showing complete disregard for the Murphy family."
"Don’t worry, I’ll keep my word. I won’t let George and Mary Simpson off easily," Marcus stated with quiet certainty that sent a chill down my spine.
The twins shifted restlessly inside , and exhaustion suddenly crashed over like a wave. "I’m tired. Let’s all get so sleep and talk tomorrow."
Before I could take a step toward the stairs, I felt my body lift into the air, securely held in Marcus’s strong arms.
The sudden movent pulled a small gasp from my lips.
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. "Marcus, you–"
"Annie’s tired. I’ll take her upstairs," Marcus replied, as if carrying a heavily pregnant woman was the most natural thing in the world.
Elizabeth hesitated, maternal concern warring with propriety. " Be careful with her."
I rested my head against Marcus’s chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. For once, I allowed myself to shed the armor of independence l’d worn for so long.
"Uncle Marcus, I’m so glad you ca back," I whispered against the expensive fabric of his shirt. Without this man, I couldn’t imagine how I would have escaped tonight. The re thought of facing Mary Simpson’s vindictive rage while six months pregnant made my skin crawl.
Marcus placed gently on my bed, his movents careful and precise.
"Get a good night’s sleep. Don’t think about anything else."
He pressed a tender kiss to my forehead before leaving the room, allowing Lily to help with my nightti routine. The imprint of his lips lingered on my skin, and with this unexpected sense of security, I drifted into dreamless sleep.
The next morning, I woke feeling surprisingly refreshed. Sunlight stread through the curtains as I made my way downstairs, noting Marcus’s absence at the breakfast table.
"He left last night," Elizabeth explained, passing a cup of decaffeinated tea. "Right after putting you to bed."
Margaret sat nearby, her prayer beads sliding thodically through her fingers. "It seems whenever Marcus cos back, he’s always busy taking care of our family’s problems."
I pondered this as I spread jam on my toast. It was true. Marcus’s business interests were all overseas, yet each ti he returned to Arica, he ended up resolving my crises. The realization filled with a confusing mixture of warmth and guilt.
Catherine’s face appeared on my phone screen mid-breakfast, her expression unusually animated. "Grandpa William is absolutely furious! He had the butler call George Simpson at 5 AM this morning. Don’t worry, Uncle Marcus will make them pay."
She winked mischievously. "My uncle is quite the forceful one, you know.
He’s already announced to our entire family that he won’t marry anyone but you." Her voice took on a teasing lilt.
"So when are you going to make it official with my uncle?"
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