Anna’s POV
"Not possible. Skylake District project belongs to the Simpson family. You’ll see tomorrow. Going against the Simpson family? You have absolutely no chance of winning." Jack’s cold snort accompanied his words, his eyes filled with unwavering certainty.
My heart sank. This wasn’t the answer I wanted to hear, but it precisely confird his serious attitude. I had intended to test him—if he had easily agreed, he would have just been placating . But his refusal actually convinced that he was serious about both Skylake District and .
This sincerity irritated to no end.
I stepped away from him, the cool night air a welco relief against my heated skin. "Good night, Mr. Simpson. I’ll see you at dinner tomorrow."
Inside, I leaned against the door, exhaling slowly. Jack Simpson was the last complication I needed right now.
His sudden change of heart was as unwelco as it was suspicious. After everything we’d been through, did he honestly think he could waltz back into my life with a few earnest words?
And conveniently just as I gained possession of a property crucial to his family’s business interests?
*What does he take for? A fool?*
The next morning, sunlight stread through the curtains as I stood before my closet, contemplating the evening ahead. This dinner wasn’t just a social gathering—it was a battlefield, and I needed the perfect armor.
"When dining with a group of n," I explained to Rachel as she helped select my outfit, "your clothes can’t be too sexy, lest they feel self-important and think you’re trying to seduce them.
But they can’t be too conservative either, or you’ll beco their true opponent, and they’ll show no rcy when they strike. The balance needs to be just right."
I finally settled on a deep blue dress with a tasteful V-neck, paired with a dark green blazer and white heels.
Pearl necklace and earrings would showcase my softer side, preventing from appearing too sharp during potential disagreents.
"Notify Sean that he’ll be accompanying to dinner tomorrow night," I said casually to Rachel.
Rachel’s eyebrows shot up. "Ms. Shaw, won’t Jack... explode when he sees Sean?"
I couldn’t suppress a light laugh.
"Whether he explodes or not is his business. Who I bring is my freedom.
Besides, there will be many more occasions like this in the future. Sean needs to get familiar with them as well."
The restaurant was predictably upscale —the kind where the nus don’t list prices and the waitstaff move like ghosts between tables. Sean and I arrived precisely on ti, neither early enough to appear eager nor late enough to seem disrespectful.
The mont we walked in, I felt the shift in atmosphere. Every head turned, conversations montarily paused, and eyes widened at the sight of Sean by my side.
Jack’s face when he spotted Sean was worth every ounce of potential fallout.
His expression transford from anticipation to shock, then settled into barely contained fury. The muscle in his jaw twitched violently as he clenched his teeth.
"Anna, welco!" George Simpson smiled with unprecedented warmth—an expression I’d never witnessed during my entire marriage to his son.
"Today is just a casual dinner gathering. Everyone here is a family friend. Don’t be nervous. Take this opportunity to learn from these successful individuals."
"Yes, Mr. Simpson," I responded respectfully, while inwardly mocking an expression I’d never witnessed during my entire marriage to his son.
"Today is just a casual dinner gathering. Everyone here is a family friend. Don’t be nervous. Take this opportunity to learn from these successful individuals."
"Yes, Mr. Simpson," I responded respectfully, while inwardly mocking his transparent facade.
I was seated next to Jack, a placent I accepted with apparent indifference.
Sean ca to pick up my coat, bag and other things, he was my assistant, assistant driver and other people eat outside.
Jack leaned toward , his voice a forced whisper. "Would you like sothing to drink?"
I turned to him, my expression deliberately innocent. "Do you know what I like to drink?"
His confidence faltered, uncertainty flickering across his features. He glanced at the nu, then at , clearly at a loss.
"T’ll just have water for now," I said, savoring his discomfort.
Monts later, Sean caught a waiter’s attention. "Could we get a specially brewed lemon green tea for Ms. Shaw, please? Steeped for exactly four minutes, with the leaves removed before serving."
The waiter nodded, and Jack’s expression darkened further.
"You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?" Jack hissed under his breath.
My lips curved into a slight smile. "I don’t understand what Mr. Simpson is suggesting. But I do understand your father’s intentions. I just want to know, if I don’t listen to the Simpson family, if I don’t cooperate with the Simpson family, will Shaw Corp go bankrupt?" My voice wasn’t loud, but each word dripped with sarcasm.
"Who else would you partner with if not ?" Jack stared at , his gaze burning. "My uncle? Don’t forget, in Arica, he’s nothing but money.
Anna, you’ve been in the business world for several years now. You can’t be naive enough to think that money alone can secure Skylake District?
Rember, Skylake District is *Skyview City’s* Skylake District."
My heart sank, but I maintained my smile. "From your expression, I thought you were going to say Skylake District is the Simpson family’s Skylake District." I was deliberately provoking him.
The conversation around the table flowed with practiced ease, but I could sense the underlying currents. Every seemingly casual comnt carried weight, every anecdote served a purpose. Calvin Turner and Luke Hill both made pointed remarks about the benefits of partnering with Simpson Group, their loyalty to Jack’s family painfully obvious.
"The market has been particularly challenging lately," Calvin remarked, swirling his wine. "Those without strong backing might find themselves in precarious positions."
Luke nodded, his gaze sliding aningfully toward . "Absolutely.
That’s why strategic alliances are more crucial than ever. The Simpson family has always known how to choose the right partners."
Their coordinated performance was almost amusing. These n were being forced to side with the Simpson family as a way to pressure into "being sensible." The ssage couldn’t have been clearer if they’d spelled it out.
Finally, George Simpson turned to with that sa artificial smile. "Anna, let ask you, what are Shaw Corp’s plans? Are you interested in taking a stake in the Skylake District project?
We’re not strangers, after all. We could reserve a substantial share for you.
What do you think?"
The table fell silent, all eyes trained on .
"A substantial share? You an... larger than the Simpson family’s share?" I asked innocently, my eyes wide with feigned naivety.
Anna’s POV
The silence around the table was deafening. I could practically hear the gears turning in everyone’s minds as they processed my audacious question.
George Simpson’s artificial smile froze on his face, the corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly.
"A larger share than the Simpson family?" Calvin Turner broke the silence with a disbelieving laugh.
"Anna, you can’t be serious."
"Miss Shaw, you’re quite young, but your appetite is remarkably large," Calvin continued, his voice laced with mockery.
I laughed lightly, giving a casual shrug. "Just making conversation.
Daydreaming doesn’t cost anything, does it?"
Turning back to George Simpson, I deliberately adopted a wide-eyed, harmless deanor. "Mr.Simpson
understands Shaw Corp well. We’re just a small company. How could we possibly have designs on Skylake District? I’m really just here for the free food and drinks." I gestured around the table with exaggerated politeness. "Please, gentlen, continue your discussion. Don’t mind ."
I watched as the warmth drained from his eyes, replaced by sothing colder and more calculating. He’d finally realized I wasn’t going to play along with whatever ga he’d arranged this dinner for.
"Anna," he said, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone that sent warning signals through my body, "you should co by the house soti. Mary has been asking about you."
*Mary Simpson asking about ?*
Even he couldn’t deliver that lie with conviction. The re suggestion that the woman who had once called a "loose woman" to my face was now inquiring after my wellbeing with anything resembling genuine concern was laughable.
A wave of disgust rolled through .
I’d played nice long enough.
"Mary’s been asking about ?" I echoed, my voice honeyed but eyes sharp. "I suppose I shouldn’t have argued with her so much in the past.
After all, she is *family*
The sarcasm in my voice was unmistakable. Everyone at the table stiffened, clearly catching my aning.
George Simpson’s face turned an interesting shade of purple as he realized his attempt to manipulate had failed spectacularly.
"Let’s eat, let’s eat," he finally said, raising his glass in a forced gesture of conviviality. "Everyone brought their drivers tonight. Let’s have a toast."
I set my napkin on the table and rose to my feet with deliberate grace. "Mr. Simpson, gentlen, I won’t continue to dampen the evening’s atmosphere.
Please, enjoy your dinner. Another ti, I’ll host and treat you all."
Tack’ POV
I watched as Anna made her excuses and left the private dining room with that practiced smile she’d perfected over the years-polite, distant, and completely impenetrable. The mont she disappeared through the doorway, my father shot a look of unmistakable disappointnt. I ignored him, pushing back my chair and following her out.
I strode forward, grabbing her wrist before she could reach the elevator. "I don’t think you understood what I was saying yesterday," I said, my voice coming out harder than I’d intended. I could feel her trying to pull away, but I held firm, desperate to make her listen.
"I understood perfectly," she replied, her tone glacial as she successfully extracted her wrist from my grip.
"Then why won’t you cooperate with Simpson Group? It’s the best option for everyone involved. Do you even realize what you’re doing?" I couldn’t keep the edge of pleading from my voice.
I saw Sean and Rachel tensing, ready to step in, but Anna raised her hand slightly, stopping them with that quiet authority she carried so effortlessly now. When had she beco so self- possessed?
"Cooperate with your family?" She t my gaze directly, unflinching. "Let ask you sothing. What exactly are Simpson Group’s plans for my mother’s historic mansion in Skylake District?’
The question caught off guard. I’d been so focused on securing her cooperation that I hadn’t anticipated she’d already seen through to the heart of the issue.
"If Skylake District is being developed into real estate, that historic building sits right at the edge of the planned area. You can’t have an ancient structure in the middle of a modern luxury community, can you? Are you planning to demolish it?"
My silence must have confird her suspicions. The truth was, our developnt plans *did* call for that building’s removal, but I hadn’t wanted to confront that particular detail just yet.
"We can discuss the building," I offered, trying to sound reasonable. "If you really want to preserve it-"
"That building will absolutely not be demolished," she cut off, her voice steel-edged with conviction.
She held my gaze for a mont longer, then delivered the blow I’d been dreading since I began to recognize my own feelings. "Jack Simpson, I don’t care why you’ve suddenly decided you have feelings for again. It has nothing to do with . As far as I’m concerned, we’re done. Whatever feelings I had for you were completely dealt with when we divorced."
"I’ll never love you again."
Each word landed like a physical blow. The finality in her voice left no room for hope.
"And I don’t like your family either. I don’t like your parents. My values are completely at odds with your family’s.
So you’d better stop wasting your ti on . I won’t respond to any of it."
I opened my mouth, though what I could possibly say in response, I had no idea. But she wasn’t finished.
"We won’t be lovers, Jack. Only competitors."
With that, she turned and walked away, Sean and Rachel falling into step beside her. I stood frozen, watching her retreat, feeling sothing vital and irreplaceable slipping through my fingers.
"Another," I muttered, pushing my empty glass across the polished bar at Olympus Club.
Calvin settled onto the stool beside , sipping his own drink with infuriating moderation. "Want to talk about it?"
I snorted, accepting the fresh whiskey placed before . "Not particularly."
"Suit yourself," he shrugged, motioning for Luke to join us.
Luke slid into the seat on my other side, eyeing with curiosity. "Did I miss sothing?"
"He had another run-in with Anna,"Calvin explained, his tone carefully neutral. "After she left the dinner."
Luke winced sympathetically. "The dinner didn’t go well, huh? I noticed she brought that Sean guy. That was... unexpected."
"Judging by Jack’s father’s expression, it was more than unexpected," Calvin added. "It was a declaration of war."
I downed half my whiskey in one swallow, welcoming the burn. "I’m..." I began, then faltered, struggling to articulate the chaos of emotions coursing through . "I’m done."
"What do you an ’done"?" Luke leaned closer, concern evident in his expression.
I stared at the ceiling, feeling strangely hollow and overfull at the sa ti.
"I’ve fallen in love with Anna."
Calvin choked on his drink, coughing violently while Luke’s eyes widened to comical proportions.
"You’re joking," Luke managed after a mont of stunned silence.
"Jesus, Jack." Calvin wiped his mouth, still recovering from his coughing fit.
"Your timing is impeccable. Did you tell her?"
"Yep." I emptied my glass and signaled for another. "She shot down. Thoroughly."
"You can’t bla her," Luke pointed out. "After everything that happened between you two..."
Calvin was less diplomatic. "What did you expect? You let her spend your wedding night alone. Just that alone what woman would forgive that?"
I didn’t bother defending myself.
There was no defense.
"Your timing couldn’t be worse," Luke sighed. "She probably thinks you’re only interested because of that mansion. The historic building in Skylake."
I shook my head slowly, feeling the room tilt slightly. "She knows better.
She knows exactly how I feel." I laughed mirthlessly. "That’s the worst part. She believes . She just doesn’t care."
"She rejected because she doesn’t love anymore," I continued, the truth of it settling like a stone in my stomach. "It’s that simple."
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