One Night Stand With My Ex’s Uncle のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

I will find you, I promised silently again as my car pulled up to Goldenleaf Manor. My body still ached pleasantly from the night’s activities. “Ms. Shaw.” Harrison, our elderly butler, met me at the door with an expectant look. “The auction house delivered your purchases while you were out. Would you like to verify them now?” I suppressed a groan. The last thing I wanted was paperwork, but it had to be done. “Fine. Where are they?” “In the study, ma’am. The sapphire bracelet for Margaret and...” he hesitated, “the wooden rabbit carving.” I had almost forgotten about that impulsive purchase. Following Harrison into the study, I saw both items carefully arranged on my desk. The sapphire bracelet sparkled magnificently in its box, but my attention was drawn to the small wooden figure beside it. Something about the rabbit’s pose head tilted slightly, ears pulled back tugged at my memory. I picked it up, running my fingers over the smooth curves of the wood. The craftsmanship was im

Anna’s POV I lay on my bed with a cooling face mask plastered over my skin, watching as Catherine's wide eyed face filled my phone screen. "I can't believe it," she gasped, shaking her head in disbelief. "Uncle Marcus actually defended you? And Aunt Elizabeth didn’t give you a full-blown lecture on propriety?" I couldn’t suppress a small smile. “What can I say? Maybe your uncle isn’t as severe as you all think.” Catherine snorted. “Oh, please. You have no idea. Last time I went clubbing, he cut off my pocket money and said I was tarnishing the family name. The double standard is insane.” “Maybe he just has better judgment than you give him credit for,” I teased, adjusting my pillow so the mask didn’t slip. “He probably knew I was just keeping an eye on you. Making sure you didn’t get into too much trouble.” Catherine raised an eyebrow. “You? The girl in the black dress with the thigh high slit?” I rolled my eyes. “Supervising in style.” She laughed. “Well, either way, you migh

Anna's POV I was reviewing quarterly forecasts when Rachel burst through the door without knocking something she never did unless it was urgent. "Ms. Shaw," she said, slightly breathless. Her usually immaculate appearance betrayed haste loose strands escaping her tight bun. In her hands was a small wooden box, not unlike the rabbit carving. "I found something." I set my pen down and leaned back. "The auction house?" She nodded, placing the box on my desk with deliberate care. “It’s from the same collection. The auction manager gave it to me personally.” It was simple yet elegant clearly handcrafted from the same wood as the rabbit. I ran my fingers over its smooth grain and felt an odd shiver crawl up my spine. Inside was a folded note, scrawled in an unfamiliar hand: "Still has a conscience." “‘Still has a conscience,’” I read aloud, brow furrowing. Rachel watched me closely. “What do you think it means?” I shut the box with a decisive snap. “It means someone’s playing games

Anna’s POVThe screen on my phone lit up, and I immediately felt the pull of dread tighten in my chest.Joint Phoenix Project Meeting 9:00 AM TomorrowLocation: Simpson HQ – Boardroom BI stared at it for a few seconds, my jaw clenching. No warning. No discussion. Just a forced summons with barely twelve hours’ notice.Typical Jack.I didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t even bother hiding the cold fury creeping beneath my skin. Not this time.“Daniel. Rachel.” My voice sliced through the quiet of my office. “Clear your schedules. You’re coming with me to the Phoenix meeting.”Rachel appeared in the doorway almost instantly, heels clicking against the polished floor. She already had her tablet in hand. “Just the three of us? What about Sean and the rest of the technical team?”My eyes never left the glowing screen. “Exactly what they want. If we show up with our full team, they’ll spin it as formal mediation.”She hesitated. “And this isn’t mediation?”“No,” I said flatly, finally setti

Anna’s POVThe dim lighting of the upscale bar couldn't mask my misery as I signaled the bartender for another drink. My third? Fourth? I'd lost count. The smooth jazz playing in the background felt like it was mocking my inner turmoil."Ms. Shaw, perhaps we should consider heading back," Rachel suggested from her position beside me, her voice carefully professional despite the concern in her eyes.I ignored her, downing the amber liquid in one swift motion. The burn in my throat was a welcome distraction from the inferno of anger and hurt blazing inside me. This wasn't my usual style Anna Shaw didn't drink herself into oblivion in public. But tonight was different."Another," I demanded, sliding the empty glass forward.Rachel frowned but didn't argue. She'd been with me long enough to know when to push and when to stand back.Tonight, her job was simple: keep the vultures away while I nursed my wounds with expensive whiskey.This was the second time I looked like this. The first was