All Chapters of One Night Stand With My Ex’s Uncle : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Anna's POV I stared at the converted warehouse before me, its industrial façade illuminated by flickering electric blue neon lights. This was definitely not the upscale venue I had expected Samuel Griffin to choose. "A pool hall?" I asked, unable to keep the surprise from my voice as I adjusted my blazer - suddenly acutely aware of how out of place my attire would be inside. Samuel flashed me that insufferable smirk of his. "Disappointed? I thought corporate sharks in stilettos liked to slum it occasionally." I ignored his bait and followed him through the heavy metal door. The moment we entered, my senses were assaulted by the cacophony of rock music blaring from speakers, the sharp crack of pool balls colliding, and the distinctive smell of beer, leather, and motor oil. The space was a strange juxtaposition of elements -vintage motorcycles displayed like museum pieces between pool tables, while the industrial ceiling remained exposed, with iron rafters from which hung vario

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 Heritage Group in public, potentially sabotaging Simpson Group's business interests in one impulsive moment. "Mr. Simpson," he began hesitantly, "regarding Mr. Griffin..." I noted the uncertainty in his voice, the carefully measured concern. Pax had always been steady, reliable. The fact that even he seemed unsettled by my actions spoke volumes about the severity of my misstep. "I know, Pax. I was out of line," I admitted, massaging my temple as the image of Anna's limp body in my uncle's arm

Anna's POV The party at the Olympus Club was ready to go. The elaborate event wasn't just to welcome Samuel Griffin, it was to draw out the man behind the stabbing of Marcus Murphy. The thought of Marcus's wounds made my heart pound like iron.Someone in Skyview City's elite circle had planned the attack, and my instincts told me that when they were faced with such an unexpected alliance between Shaw Corp and the Heritage Group, they were bound to show their hand tonight. My thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the first guests; Logan and Oscar Porter pushed through the door at the same time, followed by Catherine Murphy, whose designer gown somehow seemed both casually elegant and deliberately pretentious. "Anna!" said Oscar as he came towards me with open arms, trying to give me a hug, which I gracefully sidestepped." This place looks fantastic. Are you trying to dwarf the Simpsons' dinner party?" Before I could answer, Catherine had frowned and stepped between us." You

Jack's POV I pushed open the rest room door, expecting to find anyone but her. Anna stood there with nothing but a white towel wrapped around her body, her shoulders still damp in the light. The towel barely reached mid-thigh, exposing the legs. My mouth went dry. The air between us crackled, and I felt my body responding in ways I couldn't control. "I..." The word stumbled out, and I realized I was *stuttering*. Jack Simpson, heir to one of Skyview City's most powerful families, reduced to incoherence by the sight of his ex-wife in a towel. Anna's eyes widened, then narrowed. Her hand tightened around the towel where it was tucked above her chest. "What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, backing up. "This is the women's rest room! Get out!" I struggled to remember why I'd come looking for her. The heat rising up my neck was unbearable. "You need to leave. Now." She motioned toward the door, her face flushing with anger—or was it embarrassment? "Annie, I need to talk

Anna's POV The wind rushed past me as I fell, my heart thundering in my chest. I'd braced myself for the inevitable painful impact, eyes squeezed shut, when suddenly I felt myself collide with something solid yet yielding. Not concrete, but arms-strong arms that caught me with such force that the air was knocked from my lungs. I finally dared to open my eyes, and found myself staring at a perfect jawline, then into Marcus Murphy's bottomless dark eyes. A strange flutter of excitement rose in my chest. "Uncle Marcus?" I asked tentatively, unable to hide the relief and unexpected joy in my voice. "Did you catch me? I already hurt my arm jumping from the third floor to the second-floor terrace—if it weren't for you, I would've been much worse off." Marcus's face was ashen, his expression hard as stone as he stared down at me. I couldn't read what was hidden in that gaze, but I could feel the anger radiating from him. His silence was more intimidating than any words could have bee