<h4>Chapter 68: No Way Out</h4>


    Anna’s POV


    I swirled the wine in my ss, watching the burgundy liquid cling to the sides before sliding back down. Across from me, Marcus Murphy sat with perfect posture, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. The restaurant’s soft lighting cast shadows across his angr features, making him look even more imposing than usual.


    "I currently have some enemies," he said matter-of-factly, as if discussing the weather. "They’re probably still regrouping, but they might seek revengeter. It could be life-threatening."


    I stared at him in confusion, my fork suspended halfway to my mouth. The delicate sea bass suddenly seemed less appetizing.


    "Uncle Marcus, why are you sharing this with me? Do you need help?" I set my fork down. "I’m not sure what I could do for you."


    He didn’t answer immediately, just took a measured sip of water. "I have some assets in the States, plus overseas investments-worth tens billions, I believe." His voice remained even, businesslike. "I don’t have any bad habits. I used to drink heavily, but now no one dares pressure me to drink. I used to smoke, but when someone mentioned they didn’t like it, I quit."


    My heartbeat quickened as a ridiculous thought formed in my mind. _Is he... courting me?_


    My cheeks flushed with heat, and I tried to make light of the situation.


    "Uncle Marcus, you’re cutting in line," I teased, thinking about tomorrow’s arranged meeting. By protocol, Marcus should have waited his turn.


    His gaze deepened, eyes never leaving my face. My smile froze as an inexplicable tension crawled up my spine. I grabbed my wine ss and took a sip to hide my unease, but the alcohol burned so much I nearly choked.


    "Did Catherine tell you?" I asked, voice slightly hoarse. "This was all my family’s idea. I’m not really interested in marriage so young—Im still young, haha."


    _God, that sounded stupid._


    Marcus didn’t join my casual banter.


    "Those are my basic circumstances. If you want to know more details, you can ask me anytime." He paused, then emphasized, "Ask *me*. Others don’t know, including Grandfather William."


    My pulse jumped again. He was suggesting that I could know things even William Murphy didn’t? The implication of such special treatment made my stomach flip.


    "Well.." I stammered, finding it impossible to look him in the eye.


    Marcus was no longer young, and he was clearly looking for marriage. The mere thought made my chest constrict like I was having an asthma attack.


    I took a deep breath. "Uncle Marcus, I really can’t ept your feelings."


    "Why? Give me a reason that will convince me," he replied firmly, like we were negotiating a multi-million dor contract with no room forpromise.


    I knew I couldn’t evade this. Nor did I have the ability to deceive Marcus Murphy. His reputation for seeing through lies was legendary in business circles.


    "Because... because I’m actually seeing someone," I said, inventing wildly.


    His eyes narrowed sharply. "Who?"


    "I can’t tell you." I crossed my arms protectively, doubling down on my fiction. "The point is, I’m already with someone, and I can’t ept anyone else. I only agreed to these meetings to prevent my grandmother and mother from worrying."


    Marcus tilted his head slightly. "Then why don’t you bring him home?"


    _Shit. Good question._


    "Because we won’t get married," I answered, trying to sound casual.


    "We’re just fulfilling each other’s needs, with no responsibility to each other. I prefer this arrangement-not having to love anyone or be loved by anyone means not getting hurt again."


    His gaze grew more prating.


    "What’s his name?"


    "Why are you asking these questions, Uncle Marcus? I won’t tell you."


    "I suspect you’re making excuses," he said quietly, his eyes X-ray-like in their intensity.


    My face betrayed me, heating up instantly. "To be honest, I’ve maintained a very stable... rtionship with him. So, Uncle Marcus, I’m not lying to you." I rushed to add, "We’re notpatible-you deserve someone better, more dignified and elegant."


    Marcus raised an eyebrow and finally looked away. "Is that so?" He picked up his forks. "Let’s eat. Ryan’s appetizers here are quite good."


    The tension eased, but something in his easy eptance unsettled me more than his questions had.


    After dinner, Marcus insisted on driving me home. At the Shaw residence entrance, he remained in his car but rolled down the window.


    "Give my regards to your grandmother. I’ll visit properly another time."


    "No need, Uncle Marcus," I said hurriedly, waving my hands. "You’re so busy—please don’t trouble yourself."


    Marcus turned to look at me, his tone calm but resolute. "It’s no trouble, especially since I intend to pursue her granddaughter."


    I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, wincing at the dark circles that had taken up permanent residence under my eyes. Last night’s insomnia had left its mark, etching exhaustion onto my face like an unwanted tattoo.


    "Annie! How did the dates go yesterday?"


    My mother’s voice floated down the hallway, vibrating with barely contained excitement. I groaned internally. Elizabeth Shaw, socialite extraordinaire and now, apparently, my personal matchmaker, had been waiting to ambush me the moment I emerged from my room.


    "They were both disasters," I called back, thering on concealer in a futile attempt to look less like a walking corpse.


    She appeared in the doorway, her elegant silk robe belted tightly around her slender waist, eyes bright with anticipation.


    "The first one quoted his mother at least fifteen times during appetizers," I said, setting down the makeup brush with perhaps more force than necessary. "Every other sentence started with ’My mom says...’ I half expected him to call her during dessert to ask permission to breathe."


    Elizabeth’s perfectly arched eyebrows drew together. "And the second one?"


    "Even worse. He basically conducted a business interview. Informed me that after our marriage, I should hire someone to run Shaw Corp so I could focus on my ’main responsibility’ of producing heirs." My voice dripped with acid as I continued applying makeup. "One for my family, one for his, with a preference for a boy for his side since he’s a fourth-generation only son."


    My mother’s face flushed with indignation. "These men! The audacity! "


    "One wants my money, the other wants my womb," I summarized tly.


    "Quality options you’ve lined up, Mom."


    I wrapping my arms around her like I used to as a child. "Mom, I’m exhausted. I’m exhausted. Can we cancel today’s blind date? Please?" I softened my voice, summoning my best pleading expression.


    Elizabeth hesitated, but then said firmly, "You can’t cancel it. Go and see it. Perhaps this will do?"


    "Annie, you look terrible," she said, tilting my chin up to examine me more closely. Her fingers were cool against my skin. "Your eyes are so puffy, and your skin is... When was thest time you did a proper skincare routine?"


    I pulled back. "Thanks for the confidence boost before my date."


    "This won’t do," she dered, ignoring my sarcasm. "You can’t meet anyone looking like this, no matter how brilliant you are."


    Before I could respond, she was already moving with purpose, striding into the hallway and calling out orders. "Bring ice packs for Ms. Shaw’s eyes! And fetch my special pearl powder mask from my vanity!"