Anna's POV
I stumbled into what used to be "home," kicking off my heels and collapsing onto the sofa still wrapped in my coat. My head was swimming from the champagne, but I was sober enough to deal with my ex-husband. Jack stood in the kitchen doorway, brows furrowed. "Have you been drinking?" I didn't bother responding. Once, I would have craved that concern in his eyes; now, it just seemed pathetic. Our divorce was final-who was this performance for? "What do you want? Just say it," I said without looking at him, wanting this conversation over with. I felt his gaze linger on my flawless makeup, and I laughed inwardly. Had he expected to find me wasting away after our divorce, instead of looking more radiant than ever? "There are issues with the joint project between our companies that need your attention..." he said evenly, as if assigning me some routine task. I burst out laughing. "You want me to fix it? Are you fucking insane, Mr. Simpson?" My voice dripped with sarcasm. "Your girlfriend is the project manager. How appropriate would it be to have your ex-wife clean up your mess?" Mentioning it reopened the wound. That project had been secured through countless sleepless nights by me and my team, only for him to hand it over to his new flame with a single word. In that moment, I finally understood that all the love I had poured into our marriage was like water thrown into the ocean—met with nothing in return. "I have no obligation to help," I said coldly, turning to leave. Just then, the door opened and several strangers walked in, followed by a wealthy-looking middle-aged couple. Jack's expression darkened. "Who are you? How do you have keys to my house?" "Oh, I forgot to mention," I smiled slightly. "They're real estate agents. I've listed the house for sale." Jack stared at me, stunned. "Anna, you're selling our marital home?" "What else?" I met his gaze unflinchingly. "We're divorced. Why would I keep this place that only reminds me of all my mistakes?" My tone was light, but inside I was exhausted. This so-called home had housed too many broken hopes and endless waiting. I couldn't bear to stay a moment longer. "The new owners seem nice," I added, nodding toward the couple who were already inspecting the living room with analytical eyes. "I'm sure they'll appreciate all those renovations you never got around to doing." Jack's face reddened. "You can't just—" "I can and I did," I cut him off. I turned to leave, then paused at the door. "Oh, and Jack? About the Phoenix Project? Ask your *darling* Lucy to handle it. " After leaving the house, I instructed Rachel to take me to Golden leaf Manor. I couldn't face returning to Shaw Estate and seeing the disappointed tears in my mother's eyes. The elderly butler welcomed me warmly at the entrance. "Welcome back, Miss Annie." He took my coat, his voice filled with genuine care I hadn't heard in a long time. "I'm exhausted. Have someone come up for a massage," I said as I climbed the stairs, removing my earrings and handing them to Rachel who followed closely behind. "Of course, Ms. Shaw. I'll also have soup sent up," Rachel replied respectfully, accepting the jewelry with both hands. Immersed in the warm bathtub, I felt the tension gradually leave my body. The masseuse's skilled hands were so comfortable that I nearly fell asleep. When her fingers brushed over the intimate marks on my body, there was only a momentary pause-she said nothing. This was exactly why I preferred Goldenleaf Manor-the staff here knew what to notice and what to ignore. "The water temperature is good?" the masseuse asked softly. "Perfect," I murmured, closing my eyes. Rachel entered with a tray soup. "Ms. Shaw, shall I arrange your schedule for tomorrow?" "Clear everything before noon," I said, lifting myself from the bath and wrapping a plush towel around my body. "I need to sleep in." I settling into a plush chair as the masseuse began working on my shoulders. A soft moan escaped my lips as her thumbs dug into a particularly tight knot. Just as I was about to fall asleep, my phone chimed with a notification. [Five-star review?] A message from an unknown number. I tapped my phone screen, mumbling in confusion: "Five-star review?" Suddenly, an image flashed through my mind strong arms, a clean-cut face. "What was his name again? Sean...?" I turned to Rachel. "Sean Smith, Ms. Shaw. You also commented that his name was nice," Rachel reminded me. I narrowed my eyes. "Did I? I don't remember." Last night, Catherine Murphy had taken me to Olympus Club to celebrate my divorce, where they had presented us with a lineup of handsome young men. I chose Sean, reportedly a recent college graduate, clean as if untouched by the world. Later, intoxicated, I spent the night with him. I had no regrets. Jack Simpson had destroyed all my illusions about love and marriage. If that was the case, why not seek pleasure on my own terms? "Rachel," I called out, "contact Sean Smith tomorrow. Tell him I'm interested in retaining his services long-term. Have him undergo a full medical examination, and tell him he must quit smoking."Anna's POV Oscar Porter appeared, thrusting a thermometer at me. "Put this under your arm." "I'm already better," I lied, taking it anyway. After checking the reading, Oscar raised an eyebrow. "99.3. Somehow you managed to catch a cold in the Caribbean. That's quite the achievement, Anna." I studied the unlikely pair, curiosity momentarily overshadowing my misery. "How did you two end up here together? Just to bring me medicine?" Catherine launched into an explanation, words tumbling out rapid-fire. "Uncle Marcus skipped Christmas in America again. Grandpa William was counting on seeing him and got really upset. None of us dared leave Murphy Estate-we've been stuck there keeping Grandpa company. When I called you, Rachel told me you've been sick for days. I figured Caribbean medicine couldn't compare to what we could bring, so I begged Grandpa to let me come. Ran into Oscar at the airport—he was coming here for vacation anyway." "Meeting some friends here," Oscar added.
Peter's POV I accepted the elegantly wrapped boxes from the security guard, examining the expensive health supplements and Christmas gifts with a skeptical eye. The packaging alone screamed luxury-handcrafted paper with embossed gold trim and a silk ribbon that probably cost more than what most people spend on an entire gift. "Mr. Murphy's friend?" I asked, though I already had my suspicions. "What kind of friend?" The guard shrugged, his expression professionally blank. "Asian woman. Very professional, carried herself like someone important. Had an assistant with her." _Rachel Wilson_, I thought immediately. Not "Mr. Murphy's friend" at all. I was still inspecting the gifts when the housekeeper rushed toward me, her typically composed demeanor replaced with barely concealed alarm. "Those two ladies haven't left yet?" she asked, wringing her hands nervously. "They've been waiting outside in their car for hours now." My body stiffened instantly. "They? Who came
Anna's POVNora's eyes flickered briefly before she took a deliberate sip of her wine. The crystal glass caught the light, casting ruby shadows across the pristine tablecloth."About two years ago, we met at an industry cocktail event," she said, her voice unnervingly calm. "Kieran slipped something into my drink."My stomach clenched as though I'd swallowed ice. I recognized the flat affect in her voice-the protective numbness that comes from retelling a trauma you've learned to package neatly for others."A woman like me can't survive among these powerful men without some form of protection," Nora continued, absently tracing the rim of her glass. "I recorded everything-his behavior, his words, his... attempts. All of it.""Wasn't that dangerous?" I whispered, my appetite suddenly gone.Nora's lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Of course it was. I understand these aren't people I can afford to antagonize. The recording is just insurance, not a weapon. I never thoug
Anna's POV When Jack made that inviting gesture, I didn't refuse. Despite knowing the Simpson family was working against me, I wouldn't let personal feelings get in the way of a potential solution to my loan problems. As I approached Kieran Green, I caught that fleeting expression of discomfort on his face. "Ms. Shaw, lovely to see you! I've been meaning to schedule that coffee with you after the holidays," he said, extending his hand while his eyes darted nervously. I maintained my professional smile and shook his hand. "You're too kind, Mr. Green. I know you're busy, so I thought I'd save you the trouble of reaching out." Jack smoothly excused himself. "T'll leave you two to talk while I check out the other exhibits." The moment Jack walked away, Kieran's facade crumbled. His expression cooled significantly. "Ms. Shaw, to be frank, I can't help you with your request." I dropped the act as well. "I'm following standard procedure with my application. What exactly can't
Anna's POV I arrived at Murphy Estate just as the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the manicured gardens. The sprawling mansion with its imposing facade looked quieter than usual-the winter chill had driven even the most dedicated groundskeepers indoors. Walking past the empty gazebo, I found myself imagining Marcus sitting there, his powerful presence commanding attention even in solitude. The butler greeted me at the entrance, taking my coat with practiced efficiency. "Is Mr. Murphy available?" I asked, brushing a stray hair from my face. "He's in his study, Ms. Shaw. Though I should mention he's not feeling his best today." The butler's voice carried a note of concern. "Caught a chill from reading in the garden pavilion yesterday." My heart tightened instantly. "Mr. Murphy isn't well? Did he catch a cold?" "Yes, he insisted on sitting in the garden despite the weather. I'm afraid he's paying for it now." I followed him through the ornate hallways, my heels cli
Anna's POV Fifteen days of physical therapy had finally paid off. My shoulders no longer screamed in protest with every movement, and I could button my own blouse without wincing. I checked my watch—7:45 PM. Kieran Green was already forty-five minutes late to our dinner meeting. The luxurious private dining room felt increasingly claustrophobic with each passing minute. My fingers drummed against the table, the rhythm matching my growing irritation. "Ms. Shaw, would you like to order first?" the server asked, hovering uncertainly by the door. "Give Mr. Green another fifteen minutes," I replied, forcing a polite smile. When my phone finally rang, I snatched it up immediately. "Mr.Green, I assume you're on your way?" "Ms. Shaw, I deeply apologize," his voice oozed with fake remorse. "My father-in-law has taken ill suddenly. I'm at the hospital now and won't be able to make our dinner." I might have believed him if not for the distinct sound of glasses clinking and a woma