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When Masks Fall
Last Updated:
2025-07-19 16:47:29
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One Night Stand With My Ex’s Uncle When Masks Fall
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
One Night Stand With My Ex’s Uncle The Woman I Choose
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
One Night Stand With My Ex’s Uncle Trust is a Luxury
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
One Night Stand With My Ex’s Uncle Collateral Damage
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,
One Night Stand With My Ex’s Uncle No Words, Only Fire
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.
One Night Stand With My Ex’s Uncle Not Your Prize to Claim
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
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