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Scars Beneath the Surface

Penulis: Zai
last update Tanggal publikasi: 2025-06-25 00:17:03

Jack's POV

I sat alone in the back seat of my car.

My knuckles throbbed, a dull reminder of their recent connection with Samuel Griffin's jaw. The satisfaction that had momentarily flared through me had already begun to fade, replaced by the cold reality of what I'd just done.

*What the hell was I thinking?*

Pax cleared his throat from the front seat, his eyes catching mine in the rearview mirror before quickly darting away. He was worried-and rightfully so. I'd just assaulted the heir to H
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    Mary's POV The kitchen smelled of rosemary and thyme as I supervised the final preparations for dinner. Lucy moved around the space with effortless grace, checking the roast and adjusting the table settings with meticulous attention to detail. "Mrs. Simpson, do you think we should use the Waterford crystal tonight?" she asked, holding up one of the delicate glasses to the light. "I noticed Jack seemed particularly tired these past few days. A nice setting might lift his spirits." "Excellent idea, Lucy. Jack needs the comforts of home right now," I replied, watching her set the table with practiced precision. "You remind me so much of myself at your age." Lucy lowered her eyes modestly. "That's the highest compliment, Mrs. Simpson." The front door clicked open, and Lucy's head snapped up. She immediately abandoned her task and glided toward the foyer. I smiled to myself. *Perfect instincts*. "Jack! You're finally home." Lucy's voice carried that perfect note of concern wi

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    Marcus's POV I jolted awake to Benedict's cries piercing the darkness. My body ached with exhaustion, but instinct propelled me upright before my mind fully surfaced from sleep. The door creaked open immediately, revealing Peter Reed's concerned face. "Mr. Murphy, is the young master hungry?" he asked, his usually stoic expression softened with genuine concern. I glanced at the digital clock, noting it was precisely 2:13 AM. A small smile tugged at my lips-my son already had his own schedule. "Probably," I murmured, pushing myself out of bed and padding toward the crib. The moment I lifted Benedict, a surge of unfamiliar responsibility washed over me. His tiny body trembled slightly against my chest, his cries growing more insistent. I gently checked his diaper, feeling the dampness through the fabric. "He needs a change," I announced, still marveling at how naturally these words now came from the same mouth that once only discussed market takeovers and asset acquisitions.

  • One Night Stand With My Ex’s Uncle    Chapter 274

    Jack's POV "Who would do such a thing? Who?" Mother's voice trembled, her perfectly manicured hand clutching at her pearl necklace. I watched her panicked expression with a strange flicker of satisfaction. For the first time in years, Mary Simpson displayed genuine fear instead of her usual calculated disdain. 'Take a guess," I drawled, dragging out each syllable. "How am I supposed to know?" Her eyes darted frantically as her mind raced through the list of Simpson family enemies. The fact that such a list existed spoke volumes about our family's true legacy in Skyview City. Lucy shifted uncomfortably beside Mother, her voice barely above a whisper. "Jack, was it.. Anna?" "Anna Shaw?" Mother froze at the name, her face draining of what little color remained. "Has she lost her mind? How dare she?" I stared directly into Mother's eyes, unexpected fury surging through me. For decades, the Simpsons had trampled over anyone who stood in their way, never once considering t

  • One Night Stand With My Ex’s Uncle    Chapter 273

    Jack's POV The bitter November wind cut through my designer coat as I stepped out of the car, scanning the abandoned industrial area. Anna's cryptic words echoed in my mind: "George is being held in the south district. Not far from the Industrial Park warehouse that mysteriously caught fire this afternoon." "Jack, over here!" Calvin's voice carried across the barren landscape. His flashlight beam bobbed wildly, illuminating something that made my blood freeze. I sprinted across the uneven ground, nearly twisting my ankle on the frozen dirt. The sight that greeted me knocked the air from my lungs-my father and Pax Powell tied to separate trees, shirtless in the frigid night air, their coats discarded just beyond reach. "Jesus Christ," Luke whispered beside me, his breath forming clouds in the freezing air. My father's head hung limply, his usually commanding presence reduced to a terrifying stillness. His skin had taken on a bluish tinge that sent panic racing through my vein

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