Jack’s POV
The mont I heard Marcus had been injured, sothing inside snapped. It wasn’t concern-not even close. Instead, a strange, almost feverish energy coursed through my veins as I instructed my driver to take to Rosa Villa.
The car pulled up to the gate, and I instructed the driver to wait. "I won’t be long," I muttered, though I had no idea if that was true.
As I walked up the curved driveway, the evening air felt unusually heavy.
The gardens were immaculately maintained, soft lighting illuminating the carefully pruned trees and shrubs.
And then I saw him.
Marcus Murphy—my uncle, my mother’s brother, the Murphy family golden boy-was sitting comfortably in the garden pavilion like he belonged there. Like he owned the place. He looked surprisingly at ease for soone who’d supposedly been injured. A book lay open in his lap, and he was sipping what appeared to be tea from one of Anna’s finest china cups.
My blood boiled. Had Rosa Villa beco Anna’s secret place to entertain n? And not just any man, but *Marcus*?
His eyes flicked up, registering my approach with that sa infuriating calm he always maintained. No surprise, no guilt, not even the courtesy of looking uncomfortable at being caught.
"Jack," he greeted , as if my arrival at my ex-wife’s private villa was the most natural thing in the world.
"I heard you were injured," I said coldly, not bothering with pleasantries. My gaze swept over him, searching for signs of physical distress but finding none. "You look perfectly fine to ."
"A minor incident," he replied, closing his book and setting it aside.
"Minor enough that you decided to recover here? At Anna’s villa?" I couldn’t keep the accusation from my voice. "Do you realize your enemies have followed you to Arica? What were you thinking, bringing that kind of danger to her doorstep?"
Marcus’s expression remained impassive. "I have no intention of endangering Anna. And I prefer William doesn’t worry unnecessarily."
I laughed bitterly. "Since when do you care about sparing anyone worry?
You’ve always been perfectly happy to do exactly as you please, consequences be damned. Why the sudden concern?"
"If you’re so concerned about family," I pressed, "why not stay at Murphy Estate? Why here?"
"If I didn’t care about family," he replied, his voice dropping to a quieter register that sohow made his words more impactful, "Anna would have been mine six years ago."
The statent hit like a physical blow. I stood frozen, trying to process what he’d just said. Six years ago?
That would have been when...
"My God," I whispered, pieces suddenly clicking into place. "You’ve been coming back all this ti for her, haven’t you? Six years ago when her father died. During my marriage to her. And now, after our divorce."
mories cascaded through my mind —Marcus’s rare appearances in Skyview City, always coinciding with significant monts in Anna’s life.
"How long?" I demanded, my voice barely controlled. "How long have you had feelings for her?"
Marcus t my gaze directly. "Since before you even knew who she was."
"It’s over between you two, Jack," he continued, his tone matter-of-fact.
"You can’t make her happy. You never could. Don’t forget—you’re the one who threw her away."
*You’re the one who threw her away.* The words sliced through , carrying the weight of undeniable truth. Images of Anna flooded my mind-not the composed businesswoman she’d beco, but the bright-eyed girl I’d first t years ago.
I rembered her at William’s Christmas party, barely twenty, laughter spilling from her lips as she chard everyone around her. Even Catherine, who typically viewed other won as competition, had imdiately taken to Anna, declaring them "best friends" by the end of the night.
Back then, she’d called "Mr. Simpson" with such careful politeness, her eyes briefly eting mine before shyly looking away.
And then the unthinkable happened— her father died in a car accident. I rembered the funeral, watching this young woman stand straight-backed despite her grief, handling the arrangents with quiet dignity while her mother and grandmother collapsed under the weight of their loss.
Everyone had been so focused on consoling Elizabeth and Margaret that they’d forgotten the most tragic part-Anna had been in that car too. She had watched her father die in her arms. William had been the one to step in, using his influence to shield her from predatory investors circling Shaw Corp like vultures.
Our relationship had begun so innocently. At Phillip Murphy’s birthday celebration, I’d found her alone on the terrace, staring into the distance with such profound sadness that I’d felt compelled to offer comfort.
After that night, I’d made excuses to have Catherine include Anna in more social events, telling myself I was rely helping a family friend.
I’d watched her navigate the treacherous waters of Skyview City’s business elite, facing thinly veiled sexism with remarkable grace. When older executives attempted to intimidate her during negotiations, I’d sotis intervene, earning looks of gratitude that gradually transford into sothing warr, sothing that made my heart race despite myself.
William had seen it happening before I was willing to admit it. "Jack," he’d said one evening, "Annie would make you an excellent wife."
I’d protested vigorously. "She’s like a sister to !"
But William had been persistent, and my resistance had gradually crumbled.
After marriage, I’d been deliberately cold, punishing her for feelings I couldn’t acknowledge even to myself.
I’d stayed out late, ignored her attempts at conversation, found fault with everything she did.
Phoenix had been her peace offering-a project she’d poured her heart into, designed specifically to bring our families closer. When my mother had suggested giving managent of the project to Lucy, I hadn’t just failed to object; I’d actively facilitated the handover, watching the hurt bloom in Anna’s eyes with detached satisfaction.
Marcus was right. *I* had thrown her away. I had taken a woman who once looked at with nothing but love and systematically crushed her spirit until divorce seed like her only escape.
I don’t rember leaving Rosa Villa.
When I ca back to myself, I was sitting in my car outside Shaw Tower, with no clear mory of instructing my driver to bring here. How long had I been waiting? Minutes? Hours?
"Mr. Simpson?" My driver’s voice penetrated the fog of my thoughts.
Shall I make a dinner reservation?
Perhaps Ms. Shaw would join you?"
I didn’t answer, my attention caught by the revolving doors of the tower.
And there she was-Anna, erging from the building in conversation with Rachel, her ever-present assistant.
A painful pressure built in my chest as I watched her. "Follow her," I instructed my driver, my voice sounding strange even to my own ears.
My phone rang-Lucy’s na flashing on the screen. I silenced it without a second thought.
"Mr. Simpson," my driver reminded hesitantly, "you have dinner plans with your mother and Ms. Taylor tonight. Should I head to the restaurant now?"
Sothing inside snapped. "Why would I care about having dinner with *Lucy*?" I shouted, startling even myself with the force of my outburst.
"NOT GOING!"
Anna’s POV
I canceled my evening obligations, feigning exhaustion from back-to-back etings. The truth was, I couldn’t stop thinking about Marcus recovering at Rosa Villa. Leaving an injured houseguest alone all day, even one as self-sufficient as Marcus Murphy, didn’t sit right with .
The Shaw Tower elevator felt particularly slow today as I anxiously checked my watch. The etings had run longer than expected, and I was only now getting a chance to check my personal phone.
My stomach dropped when I saw the screen. Multiple missed calls-Oscar, Logan, my mother, and several from Catherine. This many calls from different people within hours of each other never ant anything good.
I was about to call Catherine back when my phone lit up with her na.
I braced myself and answered.
"Anna! Is it true? Uncle Marcus is injured? And he’s staying at your place?" Her voice burst through before I could even say hello, breathless with excitent.
I froze mid-stride, nearly colliding with Rachel who was walking beside .
"Where did you hear that?" I kept my voice perfectly neutral, motioning Rachel to give so privacy.
"From my parents! Everyone’s talking about it." Catherine’s words tumbled out in a rush. "They’re saying Uncle Marcus was stabbed and you’re personally nursing him back to health at Rosa Villa."
A cold feeling spread through my chest. Last night’s incident had been witnessed by very few people. Joseph would never talk, and Oscar, for all his irreverence, could be trusted with secrets that mattered.
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"You won’t believe this," Catherine continued, barely pausing for breath, "Aunt Mary stord back to Murphy Estate today, but Dad stopped her from making a scene. I think Grandpa William is the only one who doesn’t know about the injury yet, but literally everyone else does."
*How the hell did this information get out?* My mind raced through possibilities, each more troubling than the last.
"So you ARE with my uncle? What’s going on, Anna?" The excitent in Catherine’s voice was unmistakable.
"Are you seriously considering becoming my aunt? I’m totally fine with it, by the way. If you marry into the Murphy family, Grandpa William and I would make sure nobody sses with you. Think about it, okay?"
I nearly choked at her casual matchmaking. Before I could respond, she barreled on.
"By the way, you probably haven’t heard what people are saying about you two. These gossips should be writing romance novels-they ve turned you, Jack, and my uncle into so scandalous love triangle straight out of a drama series!"
I leaned against the wall, suddenly feeling exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with my day of etings. One day. I’d been gone from Rosa Villa for *one day*, and sohow the entire social elite of Skyview City was speculating about my love life.
"Catherine, I need to go. I’ll call you back later." I ended the call before she could protest.
By the ti I arrived at Rosa Villa, dinner had been prepared and Marcus was already seated at the table. He wore casual clothes that sohow still managed to look expensive and tailored on his fra. Despite his injury, his posture remained impeccable.
"Uncle Marcus, how did word of your injury get out?" I asked, keeping my voice carefully controlled. "I assure you, neither Oscar nor I said anything to anyone."
"I know it wasn’t you." His response was imdiate and certain.
I paused, reconsidering the possibilities. "It probably wasn’t Jack either, and I doubt he had anything to do with your injury."
Marcus’s eyes narrowed slightly as he studied . "Why are you so certain?"
A bitter smile tugged at my lips. "He was my husband, after all. I’d like to think I know what kind of person he is." The words brought with them a strange ache-the remnants of what had once been love now transford into sothing more like detached understanding.
Marcus held my gaze for a beat longer than necessary, the intensity in his eyes making my pulse quicken. Then he gestured toward the dining room. "The rumors were deliberately spread.
Soone is setting up a scenario involving you, , and Jack." He waited for to take my seat before continuing. "If my guess is correct, this is about the Skylake District developnt. Simpson Group is determined to secure that land, but I’m not entirely sure who’s behind this particular move."
"Skylake District?" I hadn’t expected our conversation to turn in this direction.
"I’ve had people look into it," he explained. "The eastern part of Skyview City is slated for major developnt next, making the Skylake District pri real estate. Simpson Group seems to be taking the lead on this." His expression softened slightly.
"Now that your mother’s family mansion is back in your hands, you ve been dragged into this as well. I’m sorry for bringing this trouble to your doorstep."
The hint of regret in his voice touched sothing in . I hurried to reassure him. "You haven’t caused any trouble. I was planning to buy back that mansion anyway. If anything, I should be thanking you, Uncle Marcus." I couldn’t keep the edge from my voice as I added, "If Jack had gotten his hands on it, there wouldn’t be a single brick left standing."
My mind was already racing ahead, calculating angles and opportunities.
Skylake District was partially protected wetlands, but the developable areas were substantial. High-end residences marketing their proximity to a nature preserve would command premium prices. The property values alone would skyrocket once developnt began.
*No wonder Jack was so desperate to acquire my mother’s ancestral ho.*
The realization made grateful all over again for Marcus’s intervention at the auction- even if accepting such a gift still made uncomfortable.
"What are your thoughts on Skylake District?" Marcus asked, watching closely.
I decided to be completely transparent.
"I hadn’t given much thought to Skylake before, as you know, Shaw Corp doesn’t have the resources for a project that size." The admission stung my pride, but there was no point pretending otherwise. "But now the situation is forcing my hand—if I want to protect my mother’s ancestral ho, I need to secure this project." I straightened my shoulders, a surge of determination flooding through .
"I’ve already ford a project team.
I’m definitely going to compete for Skylake."
Discussing business brought back to familiar territory, confidence replacing the uncertainty I’d felt earlier.
He nodded approvingly. "Impressive.
You have vision and courage. If you need any assistance, don’t hesitate to ask."
His ready support caught off guard. "You think I can succeed?"
"Why wouldn’t you? If you have the courage to pursue it, you’ll succeed." His conviction was unwavering, his faith in absolute.
I felt sothing expand in my chest at his words. The Skylake project team had been an impulsive decision, born more from emotion than strategy. In the cold light of day, I’d realized that Shaw Corp attempting to secure Skylake was like a fox trying to steal from a wolf pack.
Yet here was Marcus Murphy, believing in without reservation.
"I believe I can do it too. How will I know what I’m capable of if I don’t try, right?" I raised my glass to him, feeling almost light-headed with possibility. "Uncle Marcus, I have to thank you again. You’ve been a true blessing in my life."
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