เข้าสู่ระบบAnna's POV Morning sunlight streamed through the windows as I sipped my breakfast tea, Catherine's animated face filling my phone screen. Her enthusiasm for my budding relationship with Marcus had been relentless since the scandal at George's secret mansion. "You're awfully invested in this," I teased, setting down my cup. "Hoping for an extra wedding gift or something?" Catherine rolled her eyes dramatically. "Mary's practically foaming at the mouth over you two. I just want to see you married immediately so she can choke on her own bile." Her gleeful expression made it clear this wasn't entirely a joke. After ending the call, I caught Elizabeth and Margaret exchanging meaningful glances across the table. "Poor Catherine," Elizabeth sighed, absently stirring her tea. "Did you know she was once inseparable from that boyfriend of hers? If Mary hadn't interfered, Catherine might be married with children by now." Margaret nodded solemnly. "She wasn't always so... rebellious
Anna's POV The hospital's fluorescent lights cast a harsh glow over Sean's pale face. His head was swathed in white bandages, a stark contrast against the dark bruise spreading from beneath them. Despite his injuries, his eyes focused on me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. "Ms. Shaw, why are you still here? You should go home and rest. I'm fine," Sean urged, his voice carrying more anxiety than pain. His eyes kept prompting me toward the door, as if my pregnant presence in the sterile room was somehow more concerning than his own head injury. Beside me, Marcus stood silently observing Sean's face. I caught his brief, assessing glance, but Sean seemed oblivious to it, his attention locked entirely on me. "I'm not tired," I smiled, trying to ease his tension. "All I did today was eat, drink, and sleep. I barely moved." It was true-George Simpson's forced hospitality had involved a lot of sitting around in luxurious rooms. The doctor had confirmed Sean needed sever
Mary's POV My gaze darted between George's reddening cheek and the sickening sight of Marcus's arm wrapped protectively around Anna Shaw's pregnant body. The words still echoed in my ears. "Yes, they're mine." Marcus—my brother-claiming those twins growing inside her. My stomach twisted into knots of rage and betrayal. Anna Shaw? This nobody whose family we'd graciously allowed into our social circles? She'd somehow bewitched my brother and was now carrying Murphy heirs? The crystal vase on the side table caught my eye. Before I could fully process my actions, my fingers closed around its cold, heavy base. "Mom, what are you doing?" Jack's voice sounded distant, as if underwater. I barely registered Anna turning toward us, her face shifting from triumph to alarm. Marcus attempted to shield her, but before he could fully protect her, another figure rushed forward-Sean Smith, throwing himself directly into the path of my rage. *Crash!* The vase shattered against his
Jack's POV I stood frozen in the doorway of the bedroom, my lungs refusing to function properly. This secret mansion -this temple to my father's deception was bad enough. The once-pristine room had been savaged. Shards of crystal vases glittered across imported carpet. Silk bedding lay torn from the king bed. Expensive artwork hung in tatters, and the unmistakable scent of a woman's perfumenot my mother's-lingered beneath the sharp sting of spilled alcohol. "Look at your father," Mother said beside me, gesturing toward the wreckage with a bitter laugh that didn't reach her eyes. "Quite the player, isn't he? Even puts you young men to shame." The words carried a forced lightness, but I heard the tremor beneath them. A toxic mixture of disappointment, rage, and shame flooded my chest, making it impossible to respond. The father Id spent my life trying to emulate, whose approval I'd desperately sought, had been nothing but a carefully constructed facade. I moved closer to M
Anna's POV Marcus leaned close to my ear, his breath warm against my skin. "Mary's here," he whispered, the two simple words sending a jolt of understanding through me. I immediately turned to Mia, deliberately softening my voice to sound protective. "Mia, don't be afraid. We'll get you out of here." Mia blinked, confusion flickering across her face before understanding dawned in her eyes. The original plan had shifted—we were no longer dealing with a "secret rendezvous" but a "forced detention." I tensed slightly, wondering if she could adapt quickly enough. Upstairs, the evidence of my and Mom's destruction spree remained uncleaned, making this new scenario more believable. The distinctive click of heels against marble echoed from the foyer, my pulse quickening in response. Suddenly, Mia launched herself away from George, her petite frame crashing dramatically into the coffee table. Crystal glasses and a fruit bowl shattered against the floor, the cacophony reverberati
_Does he really believe he can target Anna and my children just because he's older and connected to the Murphy family?_ The room fell silent. No one moved. Even George's security team seemed frozen, uncertain whether to help their employer or continue restraining us. "Sir!" one guard finally broke the stillness, stepping toward George. A provocatively dressed woman suddenly appeared from a side room, her high heels clicking rapidly across the floor as she rushed to George's side. "Oh my God, George! What happened to you?" she exclaimed with theatrical concern, dropping to her knees beside him. George blinked up at her through watering eyes. "Who are you?" "It's Mia, George! Don't you remember? Let me help you!" She collapsed dramatically on top of him, further restricting his already limited movement. I watched with dark amusement, recognizing Mia from Olympus Club. Rachel had made the right call. While George struggled beneath Mia's "helpful" ministrations, Rachel
Anna's POV Deep down, I was certain Marcus Murphy wouldn't return. My thoughts drifted back to Christmas when I'd traveled all the way to Europe to find him, only to be met with silence and rejection. That memory still stung, a wound I refused to acknowledge but couldn't quite ignore. The myste
I nearly dropped my phone, staring at those three simple words on the screen. My heart slammed against my ribs like it was trying to escape my chest. With trembling fingers, I hastily wrapped myself in my silk robe, not even bothering to call Lily for assistance. My damp hair clung to my neck a
Mary's POV My cheeks burned as Father's words cut through me like a serrated knife. How dare he scold me in front of everyone especially that insufferable Catherine? I straightened my silk blouse, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. "I'm only trying to uphold the standards of this f
Anna's POV Sunlight streamed through the hospital window, casting a warm glow across Lucius's pale face. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, the beeping monitors confirming what the doctors had told us—he'd survived the critical forty-eight hours. Relief washed over me like a gentle tide.







