<h4>Chapter 56: The End of Her Fantasy</h4>


    Anna’s POV


    "Yes, after the charity g, you left with Samuel. Isn’t that a fact?" Mary said venomously, her voice filled with contempt. "Who knows where you two went to fool around afterward?


    Everyone in Skyview City knows what kind of woman you are. We don’t even need to smear your reputation-you ve done a fine job of that yourself."


    I stood there, feeling ice-cold despite the warm room. I might project strength and confidence, but deep down, I’m still a woman. No woman wants to bebeled as someone who sleeps around casually. And Lucy has made sure thatbel is firmly attached to me. I didn’t even have the courage to find out what people were saying about me behind my back.


    Lucy’s performance was wless-tears streaming down her face, the perfect picture of innocence wrongfully used. But I caught that sh of satisfaction in her eyes before she buried it beneath her carefully crafted vulnerability.


    "So, you’re denying it was you?" I stared coldly at Lucy, fury burning through my veins so intensely I could almost feel the heat radiating from my skin.


    Lucy’s expression changed subtly, a hint of smugness crossing her features before she quickly rearranged them into a mask of hurt. "Anna, I know you hate me, but you can’t just make false usations. If you’re iming I did this, you need evidence." She dismissively pointed at the man on the floor. "This doesn’t count. You beat him until he said what you wanted to hear-that’s coercion. Even the police wouldn’t ept his testimony as evidence."


    I couldn’t help but feel a cold appreciation for her cunning. Lucy had grown smarter since I’dst dealt with her directly. Evidence-yes, I should have gathered more concrete proof before confronting her. I’d acted too hastily, driven by anger. This woman had systematically destroyed my marriage to Jack; she certainly wasn’t the innocent, naive girl she pretended to be.


    I exchanged a nce with Rachel, signaling it was time to leave. We needed to regroup and return with irrefutable evidence. But before we could move, footsteps echoed from the hallway.


    The butler rushed in, his usualposure visibly disturbed. "Madam, sir, Mr. Murphy is here."


    My heart skipped a beat, then immediately elerated to a thundering rhythm. Marcus is back?


    That was impossible. He should be in Europe, managing his business empire.


    I stared at the doorway, not even realizing I was holding my breath.


    And then he was there, his imposing figure nearly filling the doorframe.


    Marcus wore a ck coat that emphasized his broad shoulders, looking as immacte as ever, without a trace of travel fatigue on his face. My mind filled with questions. Why had he returned? I had essentially forced him to leave, made it clear there was no ce for him here. So whye back now of all times?


    Mary voiced my exact thoughts:


    "Marcus, why are you back?"


    "Business," he replied curtly, his tone revealing nothing.


    He walked directly to my side, his gaze sweeping over the beaten man on the floor before focusing on Mary. "What’s happening here?"


    Mary instantly transformed into the gracious hostess, though her eyes remained cold. "This man was brought here by Anna. You’ve just returned, so you wouldn’t know, but the rumors about hertely have be quite... scandalous."


    Marcus turned to me abruptly. "You exin."


    I hesitated, caught off guard by his sudden demand.


    "The trending topic online and all those rumors-they were orchestrated by Lucy. This man is proof." Despite the tension in the room, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I’d nned to gather more evidence before confronting Lucy again, but with Marcus here, I felt my chances of getting justice had suddenly improved exponentially.


    Marcus’s face darkened as he turned to Lucy, not even bothering to question the man on the floor. "You have two choices. Either p yourself now, admit your wrongdoing, and apologize to Anna..."


    Lucy’s face instantly drained of all color. When facing Jack’s questioning, she had maintained herposure because she knew Mary would protect her. But now, facing Marcus-a man even George was careful not to offend —she finally looked terrified.


    "Mr. Murphy, I didn’t—it wasn’t me, I swear." Lucy suddenly burst into fresh tears, this time genuine ones born of fear. She lunged toward me, grabbing my hand. "Anna, please believe me! I never meant to harm you. I don’t even know this man!"


    I yanked my hand away, disgust washing over me as I thought about all those second-rate trust fund boys thinking they could win a bet by sleeping with me. I wanted nothing more than to p her myself. "Of course you don’t know him. You had Jared do all your dirty work for you."


    Lucy shook her head frantically, tears flying from her cheeks. "No, it really wasn’t me, Anna! Please, you have to believe me!"


    Her performance was so heart-wrenching that if the offense hadn’t been so severe, I might have softened.


    But Marcus remained unmoved, his voice dropping to a dangerous pitch.


    "Your second option: if I find the evidence myself, your entire family disappears from Skyview City."


    Lucy stiffened as if struck by lightning, her face turning even paler than before. Mary immediately moved forward to shield her, pulling Lucy behind her.


    "Marcus, what’s wrong with you?" Mary hissed. "Lucy is about to be Jack’s fiancée. How dare you side with an outsider against family? Making Lucy’s family ’disappear? What are you suggesting—murder?"


    Marcuspletely ignored Mary’s outburst, his focus solely on Lucy.


    "Will you apologize or not?"


    Lucy cowered behind Mary, visibly trembling. She understood perfectly what Marcus meant-with a single word from him, her family would find themselves ostracized from Skyview City’s elite circles. Without Skyview City, forget marrying into the Simpson family; she’d lose even her current privilege of apanying Mary and Jack into high society.


    "Uncle Marcus." Jack finally broke his silence, his tone strained. "T’ll handle this situation."


    The rigidity in his voice betrayed his displeasure at Marcus’s intervention.


    After all, this was the Simpson residence; Jack was supposed to be in charge here. Marcus’s intrusion as an elder rtive clearly stung him, especially since Marcus had immediately taken my side without hearing all the facts-making Jack, my ex-husband, look weak byparison.


    Lucy immediatelytched onto this lifeline. "Jack, I really didn’t-"


    "Shut up!" Jack’s sharpmand instantly silenced her.


    Lucy fell quiet, her eyes wide with desperation as she looked to Jack for salvation. He turned to me with a serious expression. "Anna, I’ll make Lucy apologize to you and ensure she never appears at any event you attend.


    I’ll also discipline her strictly from now on. Would that be eptable?"


    I couldn’t hold back a coldugh. "Is that your idea of punishment? Mr. Simpson, is your precious Lucy’s apology really worth that much?"


    "Lucy deserves consequences, but the situation isn’t beyond repair," Jack insisted, his tone reasonable. "She’s young; please give her a chance to correct her mistakes."


    I stared at him in disbelief. "Are you suggesting that because I’m still standing here, because I haven’t beenpletely reduced to being treated like a prostitute, Lucy should be forgiven? Is that your point?"


    Jack’s brow furrowed deeply. "That’s not what I meant. I’m not saying you should forgive her—"


    "Forgiveness is impossible!" My anger finally exploded, the control I’d maintainedpletely shattering.


    "Jack, when ites to defending Lucy, you never disappoint, do you?"


    Lucy’s POV


    Anna’s words hung in the air for a moment before she turned and stormed out, leaving a thick cloud of tension behind her. Jack’s face contorted with a mixture of frustration and regret as he moved to follow her.


    "You stay right where you are." Mary’s voice cracked like lightning, freezing Jack in his tracks.


    Marcus gave a slight nod to Rachel and Sean, silently instructing them to remove the beaten man from the floor.


    Then those prating dark eyes turned toward me, and I felt a chill creep up my spine. There was nowhere to hide from that cold, assessing gaze.


    "You want to marry Jack?" Marcus asked, his voice so low it seemed to rumble from the depths of the earth.


    My throat constricted painfully, leaving me unable to either confirm or deny. I could only stare at him, my heart hammering so violently I thought it might burst from my chest. This was the first time I’d felt Marcus Murphy’s intimidating presence up close, that invisible force that seemed to suck all the oxygen from the room.


    "I will never ept someone like you as Jack’s wife." His deration fell like a death sentence, cold and final. He turned away, his perfectly tailored suit jacket creating an elegant arc as he moved. "Remember my words."


    In that moment, the entire living room seemed to freeze. The blood drained from my face as a bone-deep coldness swept through my body. I had only heard his verdict, but it was enough to make me understand that my fate had been sealed. My legs weakened beneath me, my heart turned to ash, and all of my carefully crafted appearance suddenly felt ridiculous.


    "He doesn’t get to decide! What does this have to do with him?" Mary snapped, her voice echoing sharply through the living room. She turned to me, her tone softening slightly. "Lucy dear, don’t worry. As long as you do as I say, the position of Simpson family’s daughter-inw is yours."


    I listened to her words but felt only absurdity and helplessness wash over me. How could Mary be so naive? One word from Marcus Murphy in business and family matters was enough to destroy all my hopes and dreams. I knew the truth all too clearly—if Marcus disapproved, it meant William Murphy and Phillip Murphy would stand with him; if the Murphy family opposed, George Simpson would certainly not allow this marriage either.


    Their family ties were too close, and my carefullyid ns hadpletely fallen apart.


    All my hopes, all my ns, all my efforts to be the Simpson family’s daughter-inw had evaporated in an instant. The future I had meticulously constructed was mercilessly shattered.


    There would be no mansion in Skke District, no status and glory of the Simpson family, none of the high society life I had always craved.


    I stood there feeling as though I’d plunged into an icyke. The cold wasn’t from Skyview City’s winter winds but spread from deep within my core. My eyes felt dry and scratchy —I didn’t even have the energy left to cry. Everything was over,pletely over.


    Anna’s POV


    I stormed out of the Simpson estate, anger burning through my veins like wildfire. The air outside felt crisp against my flushed skin, but it did nothing to cool the rage bubbling inside me.


    I had just reached my car when a strong hand gripped my elbow. Before I could react, Marcus was pulling me away from my vehicle with surprising force.


    "What are you doing?" I gasped, finding myself being practically lifted off my feet.


    "You’re not driving in this state," he stated tly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.


    Before I could protest further, he had opened the passenger door of his sleek ck Bentley and all but deposited me inside.


    "Uncle Marcus!" I objected, but he had already closed the door and was walking around to the driver’s side.


    As he slid into the seat beside me, I couldn’t help but notice how the steering wheel looked almost delicate in hisrge hands. His broad shoulders nearly filled the entire driver’s area, making the spacious luxury vehicle suddenly feel intimate.


    A strange flutter rose in my chest— that familiar feeling that only seemed to appear in his presence.


    I quickly pushed it away, focusing instead on my indignation. "My car is right there. I can drive myself."


    Marcus didn’t even nce my way as he started the engine, the powerful motor purring to life. "No."


    That single syble, delivered with such absolute finality, somehow managed to silence all my protests.


    The car pulled away from the Simpson estate, leaving Rachel and Sean standing bewildered next to my abandoned vehicle.


    "Uncle Marcus, howe Peter isn’t with you? Don’t tell me you came back alone?" I asked, my heartbeat still not recovered from that unexpected flutter moments ago.


    Marcus turned his gaze from the road briefly, his dark eyes studying me with an intensity that made me want to squirm in my seat. "Are you upset?"


    I blinked in confusion, then caught a glimpse of my reflection in the side mirror. My eyes were noticeably red-rimmed, giving the impression I’d been crying rather than seething with fury.


    "It’s anger," I managed a strained smile. "I haven’t been this angry in a long time."


    As I said this, unwee memories of Lucy’s past transgressions shed through my mind-Jack forcing me to share Phoenix Project’s core technology, Lucy taking over the Phoenix project management position despite herpleteck of qualifications. Each instance was connected to her, like a tumor attached to my life, periodically ring up to make me sick. This time, I silently vowed, I wouldn’t let her off so easily.


    I didn’t want to dwell on this humiliating topic any longer. These weren’t achievements to be proud of.


    After Marcus left, my life had resembled a rollercoaster ride, with one misfortune following another. I had no desire for him to know about my struggles, to see how pathetic things had be.


    "By the way, Uncle Marcus, why did you suddenly return?" I asked, deliberately changing the subject.


    "Some business to attend to," he answered tersely, his tone giving away nothing.


    "I just had a video call with you at William’s ce. You didn’t mention you wereing back. When did you arrive?" I pressed, feeling an inexplicable anticipation building inside me.


    Marcus nced at me sideways before turning his attention back to the road, his expression unreadable as he elerated smoothly through the traffic.


    "Not long ago," he said.


    Hearing this, I felt an involuntary sense of relief wash over me, followed immediately by confusion at my own reaction. Why did I keep connecting "the mysterious man from room 3303"


    with Marcus? It made no sense.


    Marcus’s personality was straightforward—if he wanted something, he would simply take it openly. He would never engage in secretive games.