CHAPTER 114: A DINNER OF DAGGERS

Anna’s POV

Sunlight streamed through the hospital window, casting a warm glow across Lucius’s pale face. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, the beeping monitors confirming what the doctors had told us—he’d survived the critical forty-eight hours. Relief washed over me like a gentle tide.

"Rachel, please arrange a private room for Lucius," I said. "Make it convenient for Lucian and the others to visit. And hire a professional nurse for when they return to work."

Hours passed before Lucius finally opened his eyes, initially silent and disoriented. The police investigators waited patiently until he was ready to speak.

"I... remember clearly," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Someone... pushed me. At that moment... only he and I were on the scaffolding."

My jaw tightened. This wasn’t an accident—it was attempted murder disguised as workplace negligence.

With the victim’s testimony, the police finally had what they needed.

The next day, they issued an official statement confirming criminal involvement.

---

Four days later, after comprehensive safety inspections, construction at Paradise Valley Estates resumed. The vicious online attacks had mysteriously ceased, but I wasn’t naive enough to believe the threat had passed.

"Arrange for some reporters to interview Lucian," I told Daniel as he entered my office with the morning reports. "Let him share his real experience. The truth is our best defense now."

Daniel nodded and left while I turned to gaze out the window at the bustling construction site below. The workers moved with renewed purpose, their hard hats gleaming in the morning sun. *We will not be intimidated.*

———

"I was on leave visiting my hometown when my brother had his accident," Lucian said in the interview, emotion thickening his voice. "I rushed back overnight and nearly fell apart... But the leadership at Shaw Corp, especially Ms. Shaw-they truly care about ordinary workers like us. Ms. Shaw personally visited my brother in the hospital and arranged the best medical conditions and a private room..."

His honest testimony spread rapidly across social media platforms. Internet users unearthed my livestream from that night, and Paradise Valley Estates quickly became a trending topic. Our PR department seized the momentum, launching a series of promotional activities that captured public imagination.

---

The sales office gleamed with polished surfaces and tasteful displays of the community. I stood by the window, one hand unconsciously resting on my rounded belly as I watched the first potential clients approach. When the first luxury home sold, a small smile tugged at my lips—a small victory, but significant.

"Hold your excitement-i’s just self-promotion," Catherine drawled beside me, rolling her eyes dramatically.

I turned to her, confused. "What do you mean?"

She pursed her lips. "Samuel bought it.

That name—’Purple East’—is totally his style."

As if summoned by our discussion, Samuel strolled in, his trademark confident smile in place. "First buyers get the best deals. Might as well take advantage of it, though I’m disappointed I didn’t win the grand prize."

Catherine dramatically applauded.

"Thank goodness! We can’t give you that $2 million sports car-that’s our big marketing hook."

Samuel shrugged indifferently.

"Cheapskate." Then he turned to me with a thumbs up. "Ms. Shaw, impressive."

I felt slightly helpless. "You’re too kind."

His expression suddenly turned regretful. "Too bad I was feeding mosquitoes in a tropical rainforest at the time and couldn’t witness Ms. Shaw’s brilliance in real-time." His gaze sharpened. "So, is this matter completely resolved, or is it just an appetizer?"

Catherine visibly startled. "What do you mean? It’s not over?"

I maintained my composure, though waves of concern rose within me. This question had haunted me for days. I spread my hands, my voice carrying a hint of gravity.

"Perhaps this is their strategy. I thought the other shoe had dropped, but in reality, there’s still a row of them hanging over our heads."

Catherine’s eyes blazed with anger.

"Just wait. My family is hosting a dinner tonight. I’ll confront him."

Catherine’s POV

I rarely attended these family dinners, but tonight was special. After what happened to Anna, someone needed to confront the snakes directly. The sleek Mercedes barely stopped before I flung myself out, striding toward Murphy Estate with purpose burning in my chest.

Mother caught my arm just before we entered. "Control your expression," she hissed. "Are you planning to tear into your aunt and uncle in front of everyone?"

I touched my face, fully aware that my contempt for Aunt Mary was written all over it, but feigned innocence anyway. "Do I look that scary?"

"What else?" Mother glared at me with exasperation.

I sighed, picturing Anna’s eternally composed face. That woman never leaked a single emotion she didn’t intend to show. "I should really learn from Anna how to manage my expressions," I muttered, then rolled up my sleeves with sudden determination. "But that’s for another day. Tonight, I’m not holding back."

The dining room hit me with a blast of stifling hot air-Grandpa always kept the mansion’s air conditioning cranked to desert levels. Dad was deep in conversation with George Simpson, while Jack mindlessly scrolled through his phone. But what really made my blood boil was the sight of Aunt Mary lounging like royalty with Lucy Taylor fanning her like some colonial-era servant.

"My dear aunt certainly knows how to live," I announced, unable to contain myself. "Taking a personal assistant everywhere just to fan her. For a second I thought I’d walked onto the set of Downton Abbey—are we filming a period drama now?"

Lucy’s face flickered with embarrassment, but Aunt Mary’s expression darkened instantly.

"Is that any way to speak to your aunt? Catherine, you’ve become so disrespectful." Her voice dripped with both anger and disdain.

I flopped into a chair, crossed my legs, and began examining my nails with exaggerated interest. *Years of your condescension, and you expect respect?

* "Whether I have manners or not is for my parents to worry about, not you."

"Look at how you’re sitting! You didn’t even greet your elders properly," she scolded, pointing an accusatory finger.

"Oh," was all I offered in response, savoring the release of finally not playing nice. The satisfaction of watching her perfectly made-up face contort with indignation was worth it.

Just as Aunt Mary opened her mouth for another lecture, a low grunt interrupted her.

"That’s enough, Mary. The girl just arrived, let her breathe." Grandpa William’s stern voice sent an unexpected warmth through my chest.

Aunt Mary wouldn’t back down easily.

"She disrespected me the moment she walked in, Dad. I’m just trying to teach Catherine some basic etiquette so she doesn’t embarrass the Murphy name."

"Teaching? Looks more like criticizing to me," Grandpa’s voice grew colder.

"Besides, her parents are right here, and I’m still alive too. You can say less."