Anna’s POV:
I sat in the villa’s living room, legs crossed, the quiet elegance of the space offering a calm I didn’t feel. The door opened, and Rachel led Sean in. The young man who stepped inside was indeed the face I remembered from Olympus Club soft features, composed expression, respectful posture. But despite the familiar exterior, something felt... off. He wiped his hands on a white towel as he approached, his voice soft and formal. “Ms. Shaw, you’re here.” I studied him carefully. Clean-cut, well-mannered, and calm exactly how I remembered him. And yet, a faint thread of doubt tugged at me. Something didn’t line up. “Come, sit down. Let’s talk.” I smiled, masking the unease in my chest as I gestured to the armchair across from me. He sat gracefully, hands resting naturally on his legs, and his eyes met mine clear, steady, unbothered by status or wealth. That was what had drawn me to him in the first place at Olympus Club. That sense of comfort. Of quiet charm. But as the silence stretched, something stood out. I frowned. “Where are the servants? There’s no tea, no water...” Before Rachel could respond, Sean answered gently, “I dismissed the staff. I thought you might prefer privacy, Ms. Shaw. I apologize if I overstepped.” He stood before I could respond. “Allow me to make you a cup of coffee.” I blinked, slightly taken aback. While I demanded excellence in business, I was far more relaxed in my personal life. The villa was technically his space now if he wanted to run it like his own, I had no objections. I watched him move through the kitchen like he belonged there. When he returned, he set a delicate porcelain cup in front of me. One sip, and I raised my brows Macchiato, no sugar. Just the way I liked it. Impressive. He sat quietly across from me, hands in his lap again. Smart. Perceptive. Easy on the eyes. And clearly competent. I took another sip. “Have you quit smoking?” I asked, half-teasing, half-curious. He looked confused. “Ms. Shaw, I’ve never smoked.” My hand froze mid-air. A chill traced my spine. “Never?” I asked slowly. He shook his head, visibly confused now. “No. My father was diagnosed with lung cancer when I was sixteen. I’ve always stayed away from cigarettes.” I turned toward Rachel, my brows furrowed. Rachel, calm and composed as ever, nodded. “Ms. Shaw, it’s true. His mother passed two years ago. His father is terminal. He worked at an investment firm before switching to Olympus Club to pay the bills.” I felt the color drain from my face. No smoking. A lean frame. A soft-spoken voice. He wasn’t the man I’d slept with that night. The man from Olympus Club had been strong—his body hard, movements confident. He smelled of smoke and sandalwood. This wasn’t him. I had made a mistake. I stood. “Take off your shirt.” Sean hesitated. His cheeks flushed as he stood, clearly reluctant, but he didn’t protest. He began to unbutton his shirt with quiet compliance. When the last button fell away, my doubts were confirmed. His chest was smooth. Slender. Barely any muscle definition. I stepped forward, pressing a finger lightly against his chest, then squeezing his upper arm. Too soft. Too thin. Too fragile. The man I’d slept with had lifted me like I weighed nothing. Had moved like he could break me—and almost did. This body wasn’t capable of that. I had slept with the wrong person. How had I messed this up? I picked up my phone and shot a message to Catherine. Within moments, my phone buzzed with her call. “You really did sleep with the wrong guy?” she asked, bewildered. “I was drunk,” I sighed, pressing my fingers to my temple. “My memory’s foggy. I didn’t even look properly the next morning. I had to rush to that tea party.” “Oh, Anna…” Catherine groaned. “You’ve really done it now.” After hanging up, Rachel cleared her throat gently. “Ms. Shaw, Sean is still downstairs. How should we proceed?” I looked through the stair railing. He was still in the living room, shirt back on, standing awkwardly with his hands by his sides. I sighed. I had only taken him in because I thought he was that man. The one who'd rocked my world and left me breathless. But Sean… Sean was not that man. Still, Rachel’s voice cut into my thoughts, hesitant. “Ms. Shaw, the Olympus Club staff all know he was chosen by you. If you send him back now… he’ll be humiliated. Once someone is sent back, they’re never chosen again. His reputation will be destroyed.” I hadn’t considered that. A mistake on my part had given him a thread of hope and now I was about to take it away. That wasn’t just careless. It was cruel. I looked down at Sean’s worried expression, his gaze full of uncertainty. He had no idea how close he was to losing everything. A moment of silence passed. Then I made my decision. I walked down the stairs, heels echoing on the marble. “Sean, you can stay.” His eyes widened in disbelief. “Ms. Shaw…?” “Rachel,” I said, not breaking eye contact with him, “get in touch with the best hospitals in the city. Specialists, treatment programs whatever his father needs. I’ll cover the cost.” Sean’s eyes shimmered, and for a second, his lips parted like he couldn’t find the words. “Thank you,” he said finally, voice barely above a whisper. I gave him a small nod, then turned away. He wasn’t the man I thought he was. But maybe, just maybe, that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.Anna's POV "Anna Shaw, where did you find this... this man? Why are you dumping him in my home?" Mary's shrill voice cut through the tense silence, each syllable dripping with disdain. As she turned to her butler, waving her perfectly manicured hand dismissively, I maintained an expressionless face. "Get rid of that rug afterward. It's completely ruined how unlucky." This woman had never seen me as someone worthy of her son, let alone deserving of her respect. Even when I was officially part of the Simpson family, I was always treated like an unwelcome intruder. Some things never change. Jack approached me, his eyes filled with concern that once would have made my heart flutter but now only evoked a hollow emptiness. "What happened? Are you okay?" he asked softly, urgency in his voice. I met his gaze with cold detachment. How ironic. All those times I had desperately needed this kind of attention from him, and now that it no longer mattered, here it was. "Why don't you
Jack's POV I slouched lazily on the sofa in the Simpson estate's living room, mindlessly scrolling through my phone. The afternoon tea scenario playing out before me was suffocating —my mother's calculated praise of Lucy Taylor, Lucy's excessive eagerness to please, and their thinly veiled matchmaking attempts that they somehow thought I couldn't see through. I just wanted to escape as quickly as possible. "Don't you agree, Jack?" My mother's voice yanked me from my thoughts. I finally lifted my gaze from my phone screen, making no effort to hide my impatience. "Mom, I'm going out tonight. Don't prepare dinner for me." Lucy's face immediately fell, her disappointment embarrassingly obvious. "Jack, aren't you on vacation? Do you really need to go out for business?" I deliberately avoided her gaze, focusing back on my phone while giving a half-hearted response. "Made plans with Daniel and the guys." I could sense Lucy biting her lip, her voice taking on that practiced woun
Anna's POV My car tires crunched over the gravel driveway as we approached Samuel Griffin's newly acquired mansion in Skyview City. Several men in black suits patrolled the area, their watchful eyes professionally monitoring our arrival. As we neared the entrance, a security guard stepped forward to block our path. "Ms. Shaw and party?" he asked, his tone clipped and formal. When I nodded, he spoke into his wrist microphone and then gestured for us to follow him along the side of the house. Samuel Griffin was lounging by the pool on a chaise lounge, his lean body stretched out like a cat in the sun. Despite our arrival, he didn't even bother opening his eyes, this deliberate display of indifference making my jaw clench. "Mr. Griffin," I said, my voice carrying across the patio. Samuel finally opened one eye, a lazy smile spreading across his face. "Ms. Shaw. You're punctual. I like that quality in a woman." He gestured to the empty chair beside him. "Please, make yourself
Anna's POV Sunlight filtered through the crack in the curtains, hitting my face with annoying precision. I fully woke up, propping myself to scan the empty hotel room. The digital clock on the nightstand read 12:07. The space beside me held only the ghost of his presence a slight depression in the mattress. Nothing more. Gone. Of course. I shouldn't have felt disappointed. This was exactly what our arrangement entailed-no strings, no morning afters, no awkward goodbyes. I wrapped the sheet around myself and padded across the plush carpet to the window, yanking the curtains open with more force than necessary. Outside, the sun shone brilliantly—a rare perfect day. My phone buzzed on the nightstand. Rachel. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes with clean clothes," she said when I answered. Rachel was nothing if not efficient. By the time she arrived, I'd managed to shower and wrap myself in one of the hotel's luxurious robes. "Your wounds need attention," Rachel said,
Marcus's POV I stood in the shadows of room 3303, watching as she entered. The soft click of the door closing behind her seemed to seal us into our own private world, separate from the reality waiting outside. She walked toward me, her silhouette illuminated by the dim glow of the bedside lamp. I stepped forward, my hand naturally reaching to cup her face, drawing her closer until our foreheads touched. This was an intimate gesture that felt natural to me but clearly crossed some invisible boundary she'd established. She immediately pulled back, her eyes hardening. "Skip the romance," she said coldly. "That's not what this is about." Something inside me ignited—a sharp, burning anger that threatened to consume my carefully maintained control. I flew across the damn Atlantic for her, and this is how she receives me? As if I were nothing more than a convenient body, a transaction, a goddamn service provider. I swallowed the rage building in my throat, knowing I couldn't speak.
Anna's POV Flowers. Goddamn too many flowers. My office had transformed into some botanical nightmare overnight. Roses, lilies, orchids expensive arrangements with cards attached from men whose names I barely recognized from Skyview City's social circuit. The scent was overwhelming, cloying sweetness that made my stomach turn. "Ms. Shaw, another delivery just arrived," Rachel announced, her usual composure visibly tinged with disgust. "This makes seventeen today." I exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of my nose as I stared at the latest monstrosity—an ostentatious arrangement of white roses and gold-painted leaves. The accompanying card offered to gift me a sports car, asking only for one night with me in return. I felt nauseated. The online rumors about Samuel and me had unleashed a feeding frenzy. Apparently, Skyview City's bachelors saw me as some prize to be claimed—a business asset with a conveniently attractive package. "Get rid of them," I said, my voice sharp as