<h4>Chapter 48: Exposed</h4>


    Anna’s POV


    I stared back at her coldly, my palm still tingling from the p. The entire restaurant had fallen silent, all eyes on our little drama. I didn’t care.


    "Anna Shaw, how dare you p Lucy?" Mary Simpson’s voice cut through the silence, her face contorted with rage.


    I met her gaze without flinching, my expression as frigid as my voice. "I pped her because she deserved it.


    And next time, it’ll be you."


    My words ignited something dark in Mary’s eyes. "What did you say? You want to hit me?" Sheughed, the sound brittle and mocking. "Marcus leaves and you immediately start chasing after Jack again. What kind of woman are you? You have the audacity to strike someone? Anna Shaw, let’s see if you dare to hit back."


    When she raised her hand again, I didn’t move, didn’t even blink. I just watched her, my body tensed but still.


    I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing me cower, nor would I give her the excuse she wanted by fighting back. But inside, my heart had hardened to ice-this woman who had made me swallow my words for years was nothing but a pathetic clown in my eyes now.


    Before her hand could connect with my face again, Catherine lunged forward, positioning herself between us like a shield. "Try hitting her again, I dare you," she growled, her voice thick with protective fury.


    Mary didn’t hesitate, her hand swinging with even more force. I felt a surge of warmth at Catherine’s defense, mixed with worry that she’d be caught in the crossfire. But the blow nevernded-Jack caught his mother’s wrist mid-air.


    "Enough!" His voice carried exhaustion and frustration. "I’m the one who asked Anna to meet. This has nothing to do with her."


    I studied his face, noting theplex emotions flickering across his features.


    A small, bitter part of me wanted tough. *Now* he sees his mother for what she is? Too little, toote. In that moment, I felt a strange sense of gratitude for our divorce-it had freed me from this toxic family.


    Catherine gently touched my reddening cheek, her eyes zing with anger. "She hit you so hard, it’s already swelling." She frantically waved over a waiter, demanding ice.


    "Go throw your weight around at your own house, Simpson. Anna isn’t part of your family anymore-what gives you the right toy a hand on her?"


    Mary stood tall, chin lifted with aristocratic disdain. "I’m her elder.


    What’s wrong with disciplining a younger person who’s out of line?


    Anna Shaw, I’m warning you—stay away from my son."


    I couldn’t suppress a coldugh, my contempt impossible to hide. "That’s rich. Your son is the one who won’t leave me alone. Please control him better. I don’t want to see anyone from the Simpson family, ever."


    My voice remained steady, each wordnding like a stone in still water.


    Catherine red at Jack. "Take your mother and go. Now."


    Jack opened his mouth then closed it, his eyes fixed on the angry red mark blooming on my cheek. His expression crumbled into shame and regret, perhaps even nostalgia for what we’d once had. But it was all meaningless now. I was no longer the Anna Shaw who would sacrifice everything for him.


    As he led Mary away, I caught Lucy’s smug expression from the corner of my eye, confirming I’d pped exactly the right person. That woman needed to be put in her ce.


    "Mary ispletely unhinged these days," Catherine said, disgust written across her face. "You know what?


    After Uncle Marcus returned to Europe, she went running to Grandfather. I don’t know what she said, but it made Grandfather so angry he nearly hit her. Everyone at the Murphy Estate heard him tell her to get out."


    At the mention of Marcus, my thoughts drifted. *He must be back in Europe by now*. I didn’t voice the thought, just listened as Catherine continued.


    "The moment Uncle Marcus leaves, these peoplee after you," she fumed, then abruptly changed course.


    "You know what? Just marry Uncle Marcus and be done with it. Let’s see if they dare mess with you then. "


    Catherineughed at her own suggestion. "Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Jack would have to call you ’aunt. Can you imagine his face? That would be so satisfying."


    Jack’s POV


    I gripped my mother’s elbow firmly as I guided her through the restaurant, past the curious stares and hushed whispers of people. The red mark on Anna’s cheek burned in my memory, usation in her eyes piercing straight through me.


    "Let go of me, Jack," my mother hissed, trying to wrench her arm away, but I held firm until we reached the exit.


    Mother’s driver hurried to open the car door, and I practically pushed her inside. As I turned around, I caught sight of Lucy standing a few feet away, that practiced wounded expression already firmly in ce.


    "Jack..." Her voice trembled, her eyes wide and glistening with perfectly timed tears.


    My heart instantly turned cold. I had seen everything unfold with perfect rity—if Lucy hadn’t made that provocativement, my mother would never have pped Anna. This was her carefully orchestrated scheme.


    My mother had always disapproved of my marriage to Anna, harboring resentment toward her from the beginning. After finally getting her wish when we divorced, hearing rumors about our reconciliation had naturally sent her into a rage.


    *If only they knew there was nothing to reconcile.*


    My chest tightened with a mixture of anger and helplessness. I wanted tosh out at Lucy, to finally call her out on all her maniptions, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. The debt I owed to her brother Felix hung around my neck like an albatross—a constant reminder of the promises I’d made. I could only respond coldly:


    "I have things to attend to. The driver will take you home."


    Mother’s driver sensing the tension, immediately approached to escort Lucy to the car. But she stood her ground, tears streaming down her face like perfectly timed raindrops.


    "Jack, are you angry with me? Is it because I said something wrong? I didn’t mean to, I just..."


    Her well-rehearsed performance only increased my disgust. I had seen this act too many times now-the quivering lip, the doe-eyed innocence, the strategic vulnerability that had once made me want to protect her.


    Now it just made me tired.


    "Whether it was intentional or not, you know the truth," I said, my tone ice-cold. "Lucy, don’t take people for fools, because you’re not necessarily smarter than everyone else."


    Something shed in her eyes then—a brief crack in the fa?ade, a glimpse of the calction beneath. It vanished as quickly as it appeared, reced by even more dramatic tears.


    A wave of unprecedented regret washed over me. For years, I’d seen through Lucy’s schemes but continued to tolerate her behavior because of my promise to Felix. Even when she cost Simpson Group significant money on the Phoenix project, I never held it against her. I let her manipte her way into the position of project manager despite her obviousck of qualifications. I let her integrate herself into my family, winning over my mother with ttery and false submission.


    But she shouldn’t have targeted Anna.


    Thinking about Anna made my heart ache like it had been pierced with a needle. The woman I once loved most had suffered because of my inaction.


    How many times had I stood by while my mother undermined her? How many times had I pretended not to notice the way the household staff disrespected her on Lucy’s subtle instructions?


    Remorse and guilt surged through me like a flood, nearly overwhelming me.


    "Stop provoking Anna," I stated, my voice low but resolute, each word forced from the depths of my heart. "I won’t tolerate it anymore."


    I didn’t wait for Lucy’s response. I immediately turned and got into the car, mming the door behind me.


    Inside the luxury sedan, the silence was suffocating. My mother sat across from me, her posture rigid with indignation, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against her handbag.


    Finally, sheughed—a sharp, sarcastic sound that cut through the silence.


    "Now you don’t want Lucy to provoke Anna? Wasn’t it you who allowed it before?"


    Her words left me speechless, a direct hit that struck me with shame and self-reproach. My hands curled into fists on my knees.


    She continued relentlessly: "If you hadn’t tacitly approved, Lucy and I wouldn’t have treated Anna poorly every day; if you hadn’t permitted it, the household staff wouldn’t have disrespected her."


    Anna’s POV


    I still had the p mark on my face, so I didn’t dare go back to Shaw Estate and remained back at Golden-leaf Manor.


    I was halfway through my evening skincare routine when my phone buzzed. The screen lit up with "Mom" and I hesitated before answering.


    "Annie, darling," my mother’s cheerful voice filled the room. "I have wonderful news! An old friend of mine has a son about your age, and we thought it would be lovely if you two met for dinner tomorrow. He’s such a charming young man with excellent prospects—"


    "Let me just be clear - if you’re trying to set me up, just say so. Don’t use these flimsy excuses. You’re my mother, for God’s sake. You really think you can pull one over on me?" I pressed the speaker button on my phone, not bothering to hide the irritation in my voice.


    Mom’s chiding voice filtered through the speaker. "Oh, look who’s so clever while her poor mother is just an idiot, is that it? Fine. The man is someone you already know. Just go and see him, that’s all I’m asking. Both families have already discussed it, but there’s no pressure. If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out."


    "Someone I know?" The mask slipped off my face in surprise as my heartbeat suddenly elerated. "That makes it even worse! How awkward would that be?"


    "How is that awkward? If it doesn’t work out, you’ll just stay friends. You young people are so sensitive about everything." She sighed dramatically.


    "Your grandmother and I both think he’s quite suitable. Just go, if only to humor your mother."


    Hearing her put it that way, I could only swallow my objections and reluctantly agree. After hanging up, an ufortable feeling washed over me.


    Grandmother had always known I wasn’t interested in dating right now and had consistently supported my decisions. Why the sudden change of heart from both of them? I couldn’t make sense of it, but I was too tired to dwell on it further.


    Just as I was about to set my phone down, I realized with horror that I’d identally dialed a number. The name "Uncle Marcus" red at me from the screen. I froze, my mind racing about whether to hang up, but then I thought that ending the call would only make me seem guilty... but guilty of what? What would I even say to him?


    Before I could decide, Marcus’s voice came through the speaker: "Yes?"


    I heard a cacophony of background noise - what sounded like a multilingual meeting in progress.


    Clearly, he was busy, which only made me more flustered. My face grew hot with embarrassment.


    "Nothing important, I was just wondering if you’d arrived safely and how your trip was." I scrambled for an excuse, my voice unintentionally softening.


    The background noise suddenly disappeared - he must have stepped out of the meeting room. "Smooth flight." Just three sybles, delivered without a trace of emotion.


    I’d never felt so awkward on a phone call before. I wanted nothing more than to end it immediately. "That’s good. I’ll let you get back to work, Uncle Marcus."


    "Okay." Still as concise as ever.


    I quickly hung up, fighting the urge to throw my phone across the room in frustration. What a pointless conversation. He probably thought I was strange, like I couldn’t let go of him or something. I took a deep breath and reminded myself: I managed just fine before Marcus Murphy entered my life, and I would continue to do so. Whether dealing with the Simpson family, Samuel Griffin, or the Skke District project, I could handle it all on my own.


    The next day, I deliberately styled myself as an unapproachable career woman - a sophisticated but severe suit, trench coat, hair pulled back into a tight bun, and ck-framed sses.


    The overall effect aged me by at least a decade.


    "Ms. Shaw, what are you..?" Rachel’s expression was priceless when she saw me.


    I pushed my sses up the bridge of my nose with feigned nonchnce. "If I show up to this blind date looking like this, any normal man would have a heart attack, don’t you think?" I secretly congratted myself on my foolproof n.


    During a meetingter that day, I spotted Jack Simpson. He stared at me for a good minute before recognition dawned on his face. Fortunately, we were seated far apart, and I made a swift exit as soon as the meeting concluded, making it clear I had no intention of speaking with him.


    As I arrived at the designated restaurant, I spotted my "blind date" already seated, reading the menu. He wore an impable suit that was The knock on my office door was familiar-three sharp raps, precisely spaced. Peter.


    "Come in," I called, grateful for the interruption from my increasingly distracted thoughts.


    Peter entered with an unusually animated expression, his typically stoic demeanor showing cracks of barely contained excitement.


    "Sir, Ms. Shaw has had a falling out with Samuel. It turns out he was the mastermind behind everything," Peter reported, eyes gleaming with satisfaction.


    At the mention of Anna’s name, my pulse quickened. I carefully kept my expression neutral, though I couldn’t prevent the slight tightening of my fingers on the armrest.


    "Exin," Imanded, my voice deliberately measured.


    "Ms. Shaw is quite remarkable. As soon as you left, she exposed Samuel’s true intentions," Peter continued, admiration evident in his voice. "She arranged a meeting with him at Golden Ember Hotel and confronted him directly. Rather than deny it, he admitted to orchestrating your stabbing and the incident at Olympus Club."


    A surge of pride coursed through me.


    *Of course she figured it out*


    Anna’s intelligence had always been one of her most captivating qualities. In my mind’s eye, I could see her facing Samuel-chin lifted in that defiant angle she adopted when challenged, eyes zing with righteous anger.


    "It seems Samuel noticed your departure and no longer considered Ms. Shaw worth the charade. He admitted everything quite bluntly," Peter exined.


    "What else?" I prompted, back still turned to Peter.


    "Mia also mentioned that when Samuel checked out of the hotel, he discovered Ms. Shaw hadn’t covered his bill. He was furious." A hint of amusement crept into Peter’s voice. "He’s since dismissed Mia as well; she’s returned to Olympus Club. She performed her task perfectly-neither Samuel nor Ms. Shaw suspected she was working for us."


    My lips curled into the ghost of a smile. That small act of defiance was so quintessentially Anna-practical yet pointed.


    "Samuel has been extremely cautious,"Peter continued. "All his important calls are made in secure environments."


    "Quite bold," I muttered, my cold tone masking theplex emotions beneath —admiration for Anna’s courage mixed with deep concern for her safety.