One Night Stand With My Ex's Uncle

Chapter 46: Not Mine to Protect

Anna’s POV

Peter shifted uncomfortably, his professional demeanor cracking under my scrutiny. "Miss Shaw, Mr. Murphy specifically asked me not to worry you with unnecessary details."

"I’m already worried," I snapped, gesturing at his injured arm. "Spill it.

Now."

He sighed in defeat. "Mr. Murphy wasn’t attacked. He’s completely fine."

Relief flooded through me so intensely my knees nearly buckled. "He wasn’t hurt?"

"No, Miss Shaw. Mr. Murphy is uninjured." Peter’s voice softened slightly. "He didn’t want you to know because he thought you’d blame yourself, given that he was out getting your favorite dessert."

The relief was quickly replaced by confusion and concern. "Then what happened to you?"

Peter shrugged his good shoulder, trying to appear nonchalant. "Just some street thugs. They kicked me once, causing a minor fracture. It’s nothing serious."

"Nothing serious?" I stared at him incredulously. "Someone attacked you and you call that nothing serious?

What were they after?"

"They seemed to know exactly who Mr. Murphy was, but they weren’t particularly skilled. I handled it myself." Peter’s practiced indifference couldn’t mask the seriousness of the situation.

My mind raced, connecting the dots.

First Marcus gets stabbed, then I’m trapped in a restroom with Jack, and now this? The timing was too perfect to be coincidental. Someone was watching us closely, someone who desperately wanted control of Skylake District and wasn’t afraid to get physical.

Just then, Marcus appeared at the doorway, his imposing figure filling the frame. My heart skipped in that now-familiar way, but I pushed the feeling aside, instead scanning him anxiously for any signs of injury.

"Uncle Marcus," I said, unable to keep the concern from my voice. "Are you really okay? Peter was just telling me about last night."

His eyes darkened as they moved from me to Peter, clearly displeased that his employee had revealed what happened. "I’m fine," he replied curtly.

I stepped closer, the realization hitting me hard. "You caught me when I jumped yesterday. You held me for so long... did your wound reopen?" The thought of him suffering because of me made my chest tighten painfully.

"I said I’m fine," Marcus repeated, his tone gentler this time. "Breakfast is ready."

The dining room at Rosa Villa was bathed in morning light, making the polished wooden table gleam. I stared at my untouched plate, appetite nonexistent as my mind churned with troubling thoughts. Across from me, Marcus ate quietly, his movements precise and controlled as always.

"Is your wound still painful?" Marcus broke the silence, gesturing toward my bandaged arm.

I looked up, ready to ask about Isla’s Bakery, about how he knew it was my favorite, about why he’d gone to such lengths just for me-but the words died in my throat. Suddenly, I didn’t want to know the answer. I was afraid of what it might mean, of how it might change things between us.

That moment of hesitation became clarity. I saw with painful lucidity how selfish I’d been-selfishly enjoying his protection, selfishly leaning on him, selfishly pretending I didn’t see his feelings for me.

This is wrong. The thought hit me with the force of a physical blow.

Marcus’s business empire was in Europe. He shouldn’t be lingering in America, putting himself in danger because of me. This time it was Peter who got hurt, but next time... next time it could be Marcus himself. The thought of him seriously injured-or worse-because of me was unbearable.

I remembered the promise I’d made at my father’s grave—to care for my grandmother and mother, to build Shaw Corp into something formidable, to ensure my mother never had to feel inferior when facing Mary Simpson again. I had to forge my own path, no matter how difficult.

"Uncle Marcus, you’ve been in America for quite a while now," I began cautiously, forcing steadiness into my voice. "Your company must be missing you."

His sharp gaze fixed on me immediately, those dark eyes seeming to read every thought behind my carefully constructed facade. "What are you trying to say?"

My heart hammered against my ribs, but I pressed on. "Uncle Marcus, if you’re staying here because of me... there’s really no need."

"My affairs don’t require your concern," he replied coolly, returning his attention to his breakfast.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I had to do. "But I don’t like you that way. I’ve just been using you."

The words felt like glass in my mouth, jagged and painful, but I forced them out anyway. I expected anger, disappointment, perhaps even hurt— what I didn’t expect was his calm reply.

"Feel free to use me as you see fit," he said, his voice perfectly steady as he took another bite of his food.

I fell silent, completely thrown by his response. The practiced speech I’d prepared crumbled to dust in my mina. I set down my spoon, abandoning all pretense.

"Uncle Marcus, thank you for taking care of me all this time," I said sincerely, my voice softening. "Apart from William and Catherine, no one has ever been as good to me as you have. It truly means a lot to me."

I paused, gathering my courage for the final push. "But I also know that I can’t repay you, so I can’t continue accepting your kindness. Uncle Marcus, you should go back to Europe soon."

Without giving him a chance to respond, I stood and bowed formally, a gesture that felt both respectful and final. When I straightened, I caught a glimpse of his expression—a mask of controlled displeasure that nearly broke my resolve. But I knew this was best for both of us.

"Rachel," I called, my voice unnaturally high as I fought back tears, "pack my things. We’re leaving."

Back at Goldenleaf Manor, exhaustion hit me like a tidal wave. Although technically Rosa Villa was my property, I couldn’t stay there-not in a place filled with his presence, with memories of a relationship that could never be.

I collapsed onto the sofa in the living room, unable to muster the energy even to change my clothes. Everything hurt—my physical injuries, yes, but more than that, my heart felt like it had been torn from my chest.

When Daniel and Sean arrived to report on work matters, I couldn’t even sit up properly. I just lay there, half-reclined on the sofa, my face turned away as I listened to their updates on Phoenix Project.

"Ms. Shaw, are you alright?" Sean’s concerned voice interrupted Daniel’s report on production figures. I could hear the alarm in his tone, see the worry in his eyes when I finally turned to look at him.

"I’m fine," I lied, not bothering to make it convincing. "Just tired.

Continue with your report."

Marcus’s POV

I sat in silence, nursing a cold cup of coffee. The doorbell rang. Peter returned moments later with Daniel Davis.

"Mr. Murphy, Ms. Shaw instructed me to deliver this card to you. It contains the money for the historic building and the fees you paid at the charity auction," Daniel said, his discomfort evident.

My heart seized, though my face remained expressionless. Was she ending everything just like that?

Daniel shifted his weight. "Ms. Shaw said to consider the previous agreement void, and wishes you a safe journey."

A safe journey? Anger boiled within me. Being discarded so easily irritated me.

Daniel glanced toward Peter, who gestured that he could leave. "Then, Mr. Murphy, I’ll take my leave."

After he left, silence fell. I picked up the card. "Shaw Corp moving two hundred million dollars in one night-impressive."

Peter attempted to lighten the mood.

"Ms. Shaw really won’t accept any favors from you. That’s unusual."

"Did I not allow her to accept?" I erupted. "I practically placed the money in front of her begging her to take it, yet she refused."

I slammed my fist against the table.

The coffee cup rattled. Peter’s startled expression made me realize how uncharacteristic my outburst was.

I let out a cold snort. "And she thinks she can compete for Skylake District?

What does she have? Money? Power?

What is she willing to risk? Her life?"

The memory of Anna jumping from that window flashed in my mind-her reckless determination to handle everything herself. If I hadn’t caught her...

"What’s your take on this situation?" I asked Peter.

"I looked into it today. Those thugs from the other night were street criminals. Their leader runs some internet café. They were hired for a one-time job. I suspect they’re connected to whoever targeted Ms. Shaw."

"No need to suspect-it’s definitely the same person," I stated.

"Those thugs didn’t seem like they were aiming to do serious harm," Peter said.

"It was for show," I replied.

"For whose benefit?"

"The effect was quite obvious."

Peter’s expression changed as he understood.

"Sir, you’re saying it was staged for Ms. Shaw to see? To force you to leave? Was your previous injury also part of this plan?" Peter frowned.

"Could Samuel Griffin be behind this? I heard from Rachel that Griffin has been stirring trouble between you and your nephew. But if it’s him, why not just partner with Ms. Shaw directly?

Why drive a wedge between you and Jack?"

I walked to the window, gazing at the grounds.

I turned back to Peter. "Now someone’s staging attacks, making Anna believe she’s putting me in danger."

My jaw tightened. "It’s working as planned. She’s cutting ties, thinking she’s protecting me."

"But why would Griffin go to such lengths?" Peter asked.

"Whether it’s him or not, the truth will come to light."

"Sir, should I have him followed?"

"No. Book a flight," I said decisively.

"To where?" Peter looked surprised.

"Back," I answered.

Anna’s POV

My phone lit up-the bank confirmed the transfer to Marcus’s account. Two hundred million dollars for the Skylake historic building. My accountant panicked about the cash outflow, but Shaw Corp would be fine.

The Phoenix project was about to launch domestically, and the final payments from overseas orders would arrive soon. Our cash flow was secure.

But I had a lot of work to do, and I couldn’t stay home to recover, so I decided to go to the office the next day.

The following day, I was deep in paperwork at Shaw Tower when Catherine Murphy burst into my office without knocking. Her face was flushed, and her eyes held an accusatory gleam that immediately put me on edge.

"Uncle Marcus left. Did you know?" she demanded without preamble.

The pen I was holding clattered onto my desk. I felt my heart skip a beat.

Despite my best efforts to maintain composure, I knew my expression had betrayed me.

"I guess you didn’t know." Catherine’s eyes narrowed with speculation.

"When did he leave?" I managed to find my voice, struggling to maintain a level tone while my insides churned with unexpected turmoil.

Catherine pointed upward at the ceiling. "The plane should be in the air by now."

I found myself involuntarily glancing toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, as if I could somehow spot his plane through the glass. He had left just like that—no goodbye, no explanation, as suddenly as he had appeared. An indefinable sense of loss gradually crept over me.

Catherine leaned across my desk, staring at me intently. "Uncle Marcus didn’t tell Grandfather anything, just said he needed to go back.

Grandfather and I figured it had to be about you."

"Did your grandfather say anything?" I asked carefully, worried that William Murphy might hold me responsible.

"Not really, he just sighed." Catherine studied my face with unabashed curiosity. "Annie, do you really not have feelings for my uncle? Isn’t he a hundred times better than that blind fool Jack Simpson? Isn’t he exactly your type, both face and physique?"

I took a deep breath, suppressing the ache in my chest. "I really don’t want to be in a relationship again."

I couldn’t help but sigh. "It’s too complicated, for both me and your uncle. His business empire is in Europe, and I can’t possibly go overseas. What would be the point of us being together?" The words sounded like I was trying to convince Catherine, but really, I was trying to convince myself.

Catherine nodded, feigning indifference. "You have a point. Uncle Marcus has over a dozen listed

companies overseas, he’s worked so hard for his current success. And Murphy Global has my father, so why would he come back?"

She shrugged dramatically. "Besides, men will do anything for you before they get you into bed. After they’ve slept with you enough? Hah! He may be my uncle, but you’re my best friend, so I’m on your side."

I forced a smile, my gaze drifting back to the window and the sky beyond.

Marcus was truly gone. A profound emptiness suddenly enveloped me.

Skyview City was still Skyview City, and yet something felt fundamentally different.

I laughed bitterly to myself. *It’s easier to adjust to luxury than to give it up.* In just a few days, I had grown accustomed to having him nearby, and now, being alone again, I felt strangely disoriented.

When the workday finally ended, I found myself walking through the Shaw Tower lobby with Rachel flanking me.

But as we approached the main doors, a familiar figure materialized from the crowd of departing employees. noveldrama

Jack stood near the entrance, hands in his pockets, his tall frame impossible to miss. My step faltered slightly before I regained my composure. His presence was the last thing I needed today.

"Mr. Simpson, what brings you here?" I maintained a polite but distant demeanor.

Jack frowned, clearly displeased by my formality. "Let’s talk. I’ll buy you dinner."

I kept my tone businesslike. "Mr. Simpson, we have nothing to discuss.

If Simpson Group wants to collaborate with me, you’ll need to show some sincere goodwill that satisfies me.

Otherwise, there’s nothing to talk about." In my heart, all romantic feelings for him had evaporated.

Jack’s gaze darkened as he looked at me. "You know that’s not what I want to talk about."

"Then we have even less to discuss." I turned away, denying him any opportunity to pursue the conversation.

"Back to Goldenleaf Manor," I instructed as I settled into the car’s backseat.

Through the rear window, I could see Jack still standing where I’d left him.

As the car pulled away, the distance between us grew-much like our relationship, which could never return to what it once was.

"Any updates on Mia?" I asked, eager to redirect my thoughts to work matters.

Rachel consulted her tablet before responding. "Mr. Griffin has been taking her around to social events, but they’re either drinking with people or just staying at the hotel. Last night he hosted a pool party at the hotel, invited quite a few people, and it lasted until dawn. They’ve been sleeping at the hotel all day today."

I leaned against the car door, supporting my head with one hand, fatigue seeping into my bones. "Samuel still hasn’t touched her?"

Rachel shook her head. "No, he hasn’t, though he acts quite wild in front of others. He gave Mia a large sum of hush money, so she’s making money from both sides and seems to be enjoying herself."

I pondered Samuel’s behavior, finding it at odds with his reputation as a notorious playboy. This discrepancy piqued my curiosity about the man’s true nature and intentions.

"By the way, Ms. Shaw," Rachel added, "Nora is back. She attended Mr.

Griffin’s pool party last night. Should we contact her?"