CHAPTER 112: AN OCEAN AWAY

Marcus’s POV

My fingers tightened around the tablet’s edge until my knuckles blanched white. As if I needed the reminder._

"I’m well aware of the risks, Peter," I replied, my voice colder than I intended.

"With all due respect, sir..." Peter hesitated, choosing his words carefully.

"You’ve made many enemies in Europe. Doyle might be weakened, but others would gladly take his place.

They’re watching your movements closely."

I didn’t respond, instead tapping the screen to replay Anna’s interview. Each time 1 watched, I noticed something new—the slight tremble in her fingers when she mentioned legal action, the barely perceptible way she shifted her weight to ease the pressure on her lower back.

"That’s enough." I cut Peter off before he could continue his unnecessary warnings. "Have you finished your report?"

Relief flickered across his face. "I’m pleased you’re maintaining perspective, sir. I was concerned I might need to physically restrain you from boarding a plane."

I ignored his poor attempt at humor, focusing instead on Anna’s face filling my screen. The sight of her pregnancy both elated and tortured me. Our children grew inside her while I remained an ocean away, unable to claim them publicly.

"Ms. Shaw appears perfectly capable of handling the situation," Peter continued, approaching my desk.

"Forgive me for saying so, but she’s always managed difficulties admirably, even in your absence. She’s become quite formidable."

I shot him a glance. "You know I don’t want to hear that. "

Peter cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Besides, your father is there. William Murphy would never allow harm to come to Ms. Shaw or your children— not from George Simpson, not from anyone."

_Yes, Father._ If not for him, I might have already abandoned caution and returned to Skyview City. The knowledge that he watched over Anna provided my only comfort, the only reason I could endure this excruciating separation.

A sharp knock interrupted my brooding.

"Mr. Jones has arrived," Peter announced.

"I hear that cockroach Doyle is on the move again?" Oliver’s voice boomed from the doorway before he sauntered in uninvited.

"Seems so," Peter replied. "Recent activity in Eastern Europe suggests he’s pulling strings again."

Oliver dropped into the chair across from me, his casual demeanor a stark contrast to my rigid posture. "Let him try. I’d love to personally end this problem."

Without looking up from the tablet, I asked, "Is the Jesse situation resolved?"

"Not entirely," Oliver sighed dramatically. "The man’s being deliberately obtuse. I might need another meeting with him." He rolled his eyes. "These American businessmen are exhausting—all talk, no action."

I glanced up briefly. Despite his complaints about Americans, Oliver’s own mixed heritage was evident in his Western features-dark hair and eyes contrasting with his fair complexion.

Noticing my absorption with the tablet, he leaned forward curiously. "Since when do you follow social media, Marcus? Found some internet celebrity? Sounds like a woman—is she pretty? Let me see."

I immediately shut off the screen, tucking the tablet away. Nobody could see Anna’s video. She was my deepest vulnerability, the weakness I couldn’t afford to expose.

"So secretive," Oliver smirked suggestively. "I follow several gorgeous European socialites. Want an introduction? Several have been asking about you."

My expression remained impassive as I redirected the conversation. "Don’t waste more time with Jesse. Men like him thrive on negotiation delays. Send a messenger instead—he’ll come to us when he’s ready."

"Understood." Oliver leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

"Seriously though, aren’t you lonely? A man of your position and... needs."

"Get out," I replied flatly.

Oliver rose with a mischievous grin.

"I’ll surprise you soon."

Anna’s POV

I wake up in the morning, already dressed in a dress that barely concealed my growing belly.

Catherine stumbled into the foyer, her hair tousled and eyes half-closed.

"What time did you get up? You’re not sleeping in at all? Heading to the office already?" She stifled a yawn, looking at me like I was insane.

"Some of us have work to do," I replied, checking my watch. I needed to leave before Elizabeth appeared and questioned me about yesterday. The construction site accident was something I preferred to keep from her-her protective instincts had intensified tenfold since my pregnancy, and news of such an incident would only amplify her worry.

Too late. Elizabeth approached, concern etched across her elegant features. "Does Shaw Corp stop functioning without you or something?

What time did you get home last night?" Her eyes narrowed as they fixed on my belly. "You need to care not just about yourself but also about those babies you’re carrying."

My heart softened at her furrowed brow. "I’s fine, I don’t feel tired yet.

When I can’t handle it anymore, I’ll work from home, okay?" The lie slipped out easily-I was exhausted, but work wouldn’t wait, especially not now.

"Then next month," Elizabeth stated firmly, crossing her arms. "Starting next month, you’ll stop going to the office."

I calculated quickly in my head. By next month, the construction site issue should be resolved, making this an easy promise to keep. "Alright, beautiful. I’ll listen to my gorgeous mother."

Elizabeth laughed despite herself, shaking her head. "About to become a mother yourself, and still not behaving properly."

Catherine stretched lazily. "You go ahead, I’ll eat something and join you later."

As I turned to leave, I suddenly remembered the designer clothes lying untouched in my closet. "This year’s new collection—I haven’t worn any of it. It’s all in the closet, take whatever you want." These clothes wouldn’t fit me now, and by next year they’d be out of style. Might as well let Catherine enjoy them.

Her eyes lit up. "Well, I won’t refuse that offer."

Elizabeth laughed beside her.

"Sweetheart, nobody’s asking you to refuse."

Grandma Margaret joined us, her silver hair perfectly coiffed despite the early hour. "You two wear the same shoe size, right? There are several new pairs that just arrived. Catherine, take those too—a young woman can never have too many nice clothes and shoes." She beckoned to Lily, who quickly hurried off to find boxes.

Catherine blew kisses to all of us dramatically. "Grandma Margaret and Elizabeth understand me best. My mother just complains that I buy too many clothes. Love you all!"

A smile tugged at my lips as I watched them. Even facing what might be sabotage at my construction site, my family’s warmth fortified me against whatever lay ahead.

———

Daniel was already waiting in my office, his eyes bloodshot and jaw shadowed with stubble. The guilt that swept through me was sharp-he’d clearly stayed up all night handling the fallout.

"Ms. Shaw, that guy’s keeping his mouth shut," he reported, voice rough with exhaustion. "He insists he was just trying to get justice for Lucius.

The police can’t do much—he denies any connection to those livestreamers and reporters, won’t admit he took money from anyone." Daniel ran a hand through his disheveled hair.

"When questioned, he just claims he was influenced by online comments and wanted to play hero. They can only keep him detained for now, but without additional evidence, they’ll have to release him tomorrow."

"You didn’t sleep last night?" I asked, noting he was still wearing yesterday’s clothes. "Thank you for your hard work."

"I caught a quick nap at the office," he insisted unconvincingly. "I’m fine, not tired."

After a moment’s consideration, I made my decision. "Then let’s leave him alone. Your main focus should be following up with the police. As long as we can confirm that Lucius’s accident was deliberate and unrelated to our site management, I can work on getting construction resumed." My voice hardened slightly. "As for who’s behind this, I have my suspicions."

Daniel hesitated. "Ms. Shaw, are you suggesting the Simpsons...?" The question hung unfinished in the air between us.