<h4>Chapter 36: No Room for Love</h4>


    Anna’s POV


    "Not possible. Skke District project belongs to the Simpson family. You’ll see tomorrow. Going against the Simpson family? You have absolutely no chance of winning." Jack’s cold snort apanied his words, his eyes filled with unwavering certainty.


    My heart sank. This wasn’t the answer I wanted to hear, but it precisely confirmed his serious attitude. I had intended to test him—if he had easily agreed, he would have just been cating me. But his refusal actually convinced me that he was serious about both Skke District and me.


    This sincerity irritated me to no end.


    I stepped away from him, the cool night air a wee relief against my heated skin. "Good night, Mr. Simpson. I’ll see you at dinner tomorrow."


    Inside, I leaned against the door, exhaling slowly. Jack Simpson was thestplication I needed right now.


    His sudden change of heart was as unwee as it was suspicious. After everything we’d been through, did he honestly think he could waltz back into my life with a few earnest words?


    And conveniently just as I gained possession of a property crucial to his family’s business interests?


    *What does he take me for? A fool?*


    The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains as I stood before my closet, contemting the evening ahead. This dinner wasn’t just a social gathering—it was a battlefield, and I needed the perfect armor.


    "When dining with a group of men," I exined to Rachel as she helped me select my outfit, "your clothes can’t be too sexy, lest they feel self-important and think you’re trying to seduce them.


    But they can’t be too conservative either, or you’ll be their true opponent, and they’ll show no mercy when they strike. The bnce needs to be just right."


    I finally settled on a deep blue dress with a tasteful V-neck, paired with a dark green zer and white heels.


    Pearl ne and earrings would showcase my softer side, preventing me from appearing too sharp during potential disagreements.


    "Notify Sean that he’ll be apanying me to dinner tomorrow night," I said casually to Rachel.


    Rachel’s eyebrows shot up. "Ms. Shaw, won’t Jack... explode when he sees Sean?"


    I couldn’t suppress a lightugh.


    "Whether he explodes or not is his business. Who I bring is my freedom.


    Besides, there will be many more asions like this in the future. Sean needs to get familiar with them as well."


    The restaurant was predictably upscale —the kind where the menus don’t list prices and the waitstaff move like ghosts between tables. Sean and I arrived precisely on time, neither early enough to appear eager norte enough to seem disrespectful.


    The moment we walked in, I felt the shift in atmosphere. Every head turned, conversations momentarily paused, and eyes widened at the sight of Sean by my side.


    Jack’s face when he spotted Sean was worth every ounce of potential fallout.


    His expression transformed from anticipation to shock, then settled into barely contained fury. The muscle in his jaw twitched violently as he clenched his teeth.


    "Anna, wee!" George Simpson smiled with unprecedented warmth—an expression I’d never witnessed during my entire marriage to his son.


    "Today is just a casual dinner gathering. Everyone here is a family friend. Don’t be nervous. Take this opportunity to learn from these sessful individuals."


    "Yes, Mr. Simpson," I responded respectfully, while inwardly mocking an expression I’d never witnessed during my entire marriage to his son.


    "Today is just a casual dinner gathering. Everyone here is a family friend. Don’t be nervous. Take this opportunity to learn from these sessful individuals."


    "Yes, Mr. Simpson," I responded respectfully, while inwardly mocking his transparent facade.


    I was seated next to Jack, a cement I epted with apparent indifference.


    Sean came to pick up my coat, bag and other things, he was my assistant, assistant driver and other people eat outside.


    Jack leaned toward me, his voice a forced whisper. "Would you like something to drink?"


    I turned to him, my expression deliberately innocent. "Do you know what I like to drink?"


    His confidence faltered, uncertainty flickering across his features. He nced at the menu, then at me, clearly at a loss.


    "T’ll just have water for now," I said, savoring his difort.


    Momentster, Sean caught a waiter’s attention. "Could we get a specially brewed lemon green tea for Ms. Shaw, please? Steeped for exactly four minutes, with the leaves removed before serving."


    The waiter nodded, and Jack’s expression darkened further.


    "You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?" Jack hissed under his breath.


    My lips curved into a slight smile. "I don’t understand what Mr. Simpson is suggesting. But I do understand your father’s intentions. I just want to know, if I don’t listen to the Simpson family, if I don’t cooperate with the Simpson family, will Shaw Corp go bankrupt?" My voice wasn’t loud, but each word dripped with sarcasm.


    "Who else would you partner with if not me?" Jack stared at me, his gaze burning. "My uncle? Don’t forget, in America, he’s nothing but money.


    Anna, you’ve been in the business world for several years now. You can’t be naive enough to think that money alone can secure Skke District?


    Remember, Skke District is *Skyview City’s* Skke District."


    My heart sank, but I maintained my smile. "From your expression, I thought you were going to say Skke District is the Simpson family’s Skke District." I was deliberately provoking him.


    The conversation around the table flowed with practiced ease, but I could sense the underlying currents. Every seemingly casualment carried weight, every anecdote served a purpose. Calvin Turner and Luke Hill both made pointed remarks about the benefits of partnering with Simpson Group, their loyalty to Jack’s family painfully obvious.


    "The market has been particrly challengingtely," Calvin remarked, swirling his wine. "Those without strong backing might find themselves in precarious positions."


    Luke nodded, his gaze sliding meaningfully toward me. "Absolutely.


    That’s why strategic alliances are more crucial than ever. The Simpson family has always known how to choose the right partners."


    Their coordinated performance was almost amusing. These men were being forced to side with the Simpson family as a way to pressure me into "being sensible." The message couldn’t have been clearer if they’d spelled it out.


    Finally, George Simpson turned to me with that same artificial smile. "Anna, let me ask you, what are Shaw Corp’s ns? Are you interested in taking a stake in the Skke District project?


    We’re not strangers, after all. We could reserve a substantial share for you.


    What do you think?"


    The table fell silent, all eyes trained on me.


    "A substantial share? You mean...rger than the Simpson family’s share?" I asked innocently, my eyes wide with feigned naivety.


    Anna’s POV


    The silence around the table was deafening. I could practically hear the gears turning in everyone’s minds as they processed my audacious question.


    George Simpson’s artificial smile froze on his face, the corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly.


    "Arger share than the Simpson family?" Calvin Turner broke the silence with a disbelievingugh.


    "Anna, you can’t be serious."


    "Miss Shaw, you’re quite young, but your appetite is remarkablyrge," Calvin continued, his voiceced with mockery.


    Iughed lightly, giving a casual shrug. "Just making conversation.


    Daydreaming doesn’t cost anything, does it?"


    Turning back to George Simpson, I deliberately adopted a wide-eyed, harmless demeanor. "Mr.Simpson


    understands Shaw Corp well. We’re just a smallpany. How could we possibly have designs on Skke District? I’m really just here for the free food and drinks." I gestured around the table with exaggerated politeness. "Please, gentlemen, continue your discussion. Don’t mind me."


    I watched as the warmth drained from his eyes, reced by something colder and more calcting. He’d finally realized I wasn’t going to y along with whatever game he’d arranged this dinner for.


    "Anna," he said, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone that sent warning signals through my body, "you shoulde by the house sometime. Mary has been asking about you."


    *Mary Simpson asking about me?*


    Even he couldn’t deliver that lie with conviction. The mere suggestion that the woman who had once called me a "loose woman" to my face was now inquiring after my wellbeing with anything resembling genuine concern wasughable.


    A wave of disgust rolled through me.


    I’d yed nice long enough.


    "Mary’s been asking about me?" I echoed, my voice honeyed but eyes sharp. "I suppose I shouldn’t have argued with her so much in the past.


    After all, she is *family*


    The sarcasm in my voice was unmistakable. Everyone at the table stiffened, clearly catching my meaning.


    George Simpson’s face turned an interesting shade of purple as he realized his attempt to manipte me had failed spectacrly.


    "Let’s eat, let’s eat," he finally said, raising his ss in a forced gesture of conviviality. "Everyone brought their drivers tonight. Let’s have a toast."


    I set my napkin on the table and rose to my feet with deliberate grace. "Mr. Simpson, gentlemen, I won’t continue to dampen the evening’s atmosphere.


    Please, enjoy your dinner. Another time, I’ll host and treat you all."


    Tack’ POV


    I watched as Anna made her excuses and left the private dining room with that practiced smile she’d perfected over the years-polite, distant, andpletely imprable. The moment she disappeared through the doorway, my father shot me a look of unmistakable disappointment. I ignored him, pushing back my chair and following her out.


    I strode forward, grabbing her wrist before she could reach the elevator. "I don’t think you understood what I was saying yesterday," I said, my voiceing out harder than I’d intended. I could feel her trying to pull away, but I held firm, desperate to make her listen.


    "I understood perfectly," she replied, her tone cial as she sessfully extracted her wrist from my grip.


    "Then why won’t you cooperate with Simpson Group? It’s the best option for everyone involved. Do you even realize what you’re doing?" I couldn’t keep the edge of pleading from my voice.


    I saw Sean and Rachel tensing, ready to step in, but Anna raised her hand slightly, stopping them with that quiet authority she carried so effortlessly now. When had she be so self- possessed?


    "Cooperate with your family?" She met my gaze directly, unflinching. "Let me ask you something. What exactly are Simpson Group’s ns for my mother’s historic mansion in Skke District?’


    The question caught me off guard. I’d been so focused on securing her cooperation that I hadn’t anticipated she’d already seen through to the heart of the issue.


    "If Skke District is being developed into real estate, that historic building sits right at the edge of the nned area. You can’t have an ancient structure in the middle of a modern luxurymunity, can you? Are you nning to demolish it?"


    My silence must have confirmed her suspicions. The truth was, our development ns *did* call for that building’s removal, but I hadn’t wanted to confront that particr detail just yet.


    "We can discuss the building," I offered, trying to sound reasonable. "If you really want to preserve it-"


    "That building will absolutely not be demolished," she cut me off, her voice steel-edged with conviction.


    She held my gaze for a moment longer, then delivered the blow I’d been dreading since I began to recognize my own feelings. "Jack Simpson, I don’t care why you’ve suddenly decided you have feelings for me again. It has nothing to do with me. As far as I’m concerned, we’re done. Whatever feelings I had for you werepletely dealt with when we divorced."


    "I’ll never love you again."


    Each wordnded like a physical blow. The finality in her voice left no room for hope.


    "And I don’t like your family either. I don’t like your parents. My values arepletely at odds with your family’s.


    So you’d better stop wasting your time on me. I won’t respond to any of it."


    I opened my mouth, though what I could possibly say in response, I had no idea. But she wasn’t finished.


    "We won’t be lovers, Jack. Onlypetitors."


    With that, she turned and walked away, Sean and Rachel falling into step beside her. I stood frozen, watching her retreat, feeling something vital and irreceable slipping through my fingers.


    "Another," I muttered, pushing my empty ss across the polished bar at Olympus Club.


    Calvin settled onto the stool beside me, sipping his own drink with infuriating moderation. "Want to talk about it?"


    I snorted, epting the fresh whiskey ced before me. "Not particrly."


    "Suit yourself," he shrugged, motioning for Luke to join us.


    Luke slid into the seat on my other side, eyeing me with curiosity. "Did I miss something?"


    "He had another run-in with Anna,"Calvin exined, his tone carefully neutral. "After she left the dinner."


    Luke winced sympathetically. "The dinner didn’t go well, huh? I noticed she brought that Sean guy. That was... unexpected."


    "Judging by Jack’s father’s expression, it was more than unexpected," Calvin added. "It was a deration of war."


    I downed half my whiskey in one swallow, weing the burn. "I’m..." I began, then faltered, struggling to articte the chaos of emotions coursing through me. "I’m done."


    "What do you mean ’done"?" Luke leaned closer, concern evident in his expression.


    I stared at the ceiling, feeling strangely hollow and overfull at the same time.


    "I’ve fallen in love with Anna."


    Calvin choked on his drink, coughing violently while Luke’s eyes widened toical proportions.


    "You’re joking," Luke managed after a moment of stunned silence.


    "Jesus, Jack." Calvin wiped his mouth, still recovering from his coughing fit.


    "Your timing is impable. Did you tell her?"


    "Yep." I emptied my ss and signaled for another. "She shot me down. Thoroughly."


    "You can’t me her," Luke pointed out. "After everything that happened between you two..."


    Calvin was less diplomatic. "What did you expect? You let her spend your wedding night alone. Just that alone what woman would forgive that?"


    I didn’t bother defending myself.


    There was no defense.


    "Your timing couldn’t be worse," Luke sighed. "She probably thinks you’re only interested because of that mansion. The historic building in Skke."


    I shook my head slowly, feeling the room tilt slightly. "She knows better.


    She knows exactly how I feel." Iughed mirthlessly. "That’s the worst part. She believes me. She just doesn’t care."


    "She rejected me because she doesn’t love me anymore," I continued, the truth of it settling like a stone in my stomach. "It’s that simple."