CHAPTER 116: A MOTHER’S TEARS

Catherine’s POV

To me, Jack was worse than an actual jerk. He made me sick. I used to think he was decent, without the common vices of wealthy heirs, which is why I supported Anna when she wanted to marry him. My best friend marrying my cousin-perfect. But look how that turned out. The man was pathetically indecisive.

Jack offered a bitter smile. "You think I want this? Do I have any say in that house?" He paused, his eyes filled with resignation. "My father reassigned Pax back to the company. Probably because I couldn’t convince Anna to reconsider.

He’s very disappointed in me."

I paused, then let out a derisive laugh.

"Ha! You all think Anna is someone you can marry whenever you please?

You didn’t treasure her before, and now she’s out of your league. Don’t expect Anna to marry you again with Skylake District as her dowry. Who do you think you are?"

Jack shook his head, genuine pain in his eyes. "I never thought that. I know she doesn’t love me anymore. I’ve lost her completely."

"Good that you understand," I said harshly. "If I were you, I’d stay far away from her."

Jack suddenly looked up, his expression complex. "I just want to know one thing—is the baby Uncle Marcus’s?"

"No," I answered with absolute certainty. "Definitely not."

Jack frowned. "Then whose is it?"

I shrugged, telling the truth. "I honestly don’t know." Not only did I not know who the father was, Anna herself might not be certain. It was so unbelievable that no one would believe it if I told them.

"You’d better not ask Anna," I warned him. "She won’t tell you anyway."

Anna’s POV

The following day, Catherine slumped into my home office with a defeated expression.

"George is too cunning," she grumbled, sprawling dramatically across the armchair opposite my desk. "I couldn’t get anything out of him. But the more he tries to hide it, the more convinced I am he’s behind everything."

I sighed, absently stroking my six-month pregnant belly. The twins seemed particularly active today, their kicks a constant reminder of the growing life inside me.

"We’ll just have to take it one step at a time."

Deep down, anxiety gnawed at me, but I couldn’t let it show. My team needed to see strength, not worry. After a moment’s hesitation, my thoughts drifted to the person who once stood up for me without hesitation.

"Has Marcus been in touch with your family recently?"

Catherine shrugged. "Grandpa didn’t mention anything last night, so probably not. Since returning to Europe, he’s basically vanished again."

She shot me a mischievous wink.

"What, missing my uncle? Finally realizing how good he is?"

My heart betrayed me with a sudden acceleration. Words evaporated from my tongue.

My mind flashed back to how quickly Marcus had returned when Samuel and I were linked by gossip, and again when Lucy had set her trap for me.

This time, his silence was deafening.

_After growing accustomed to his help, facing things alone isn’t easy._ But I straightened my shoulders. _At least I’m capable of handling my own battles._

Sean had become indispensable, shuttling between Shaw Estate and Shaw Corp with meticulous attention to detail. The entire company had grown to respect-and slightly fear— his thoroughness. Working from home had its benefits; I could oversee operations while prioritizing the twins’ health.

One evening, I waddled to Mom’s bedroom, concerned about her recent melancholy. I found Elizabeth sitting on her sofa, hurriedly wiping tears from a framed photograph.

"What’s wrong?" I asked softly.

She startled, hastily composing herself.

"Nothing."

Looking at her puffy eyes, I sighed.

Something was clearly wrong.

"Did someone say something? Did someone offend you?" I settled beside her, my voice gentle.

Elizabeth shook her head, forcing a smile. "I’s nothing, really. Just missing your father." She quickly changed the subject. "Weren’t we going to name the babies? Maybe Margaret and I could consult some experts for good names?"

I was surprised by her evasiveness. My mother had always shared her troubles with me before. Was she afraid of worrying me, or was something more complicated happening?

"Of course, you and Grandma can handle it. Just make sure they’re nice names, or I won’t approve."

Elizabeth managed a watery smile. "As if your mother and grandmother would choose anything less than perfect."

Seeing her forced cheerfulness broke my heart, but I didn’t press further.

When Harper Watson’s baby shower invitation arrived, Elizabeth was clearly reluctant to attend.

"I’d rather not go," she admitted, then sighed. "But I can’t let you go alone in your condition."

Despite my assurances that I could manage, Mom’s protective instincts won out.

At the lavish hotel event, I found myself surrounded by cooing society women fascinated by my pregnant belly.

"And the father is...?" one woman probed with feigned casualness.

"We’re no longer together," I replied firmly. "My children don’t have a father." My tone left no room for gossip.

Though outwardly composed, each time the question arose, bitterness flooded my mouth. This was my choice, and I would protect my children fiercely.

When Rachel reported that my mother had disappeared to the restroom for an unusual amount of time, alarm bells rang in my head.

Following my instincts, I searched until I reached the garden terrace.

Mary Simpson’s harsh voice cut through the evening air.

"Shameless whore! Your husband’s been dead too long and you’re desperate? Seducing other women’s husbands at your age-you’re disgusting!"

I froze in shock at such vulgarity.

_Who had provoked her to abandon all decency in public?_

Then I heard the tear-filled response:

"Please stop spreading lies. I’ve done nothing of the sort."

My mother’s voice.

I let Rachel guide me toward Mary Simpson’s shrill voice, each step measured and careful despite the fury building in my chest. My hand instinctively cradled my six-month pregnant belly as we rounded the decorative wall separating Harper Watson’s baby shower from this unexpected drama.

The scene before me stopped me cold.

George Simpson stood in an unexpected protective stance near my mother, while Mary looked ready to claw someone’s eyes out. What the hell was George doing at a women’s baby shower?

"You’re talking nonsense. Look at yourself," George barked at Mary, his tone uncharacteristically harsh.

Mary’s face contorted with rage, her perfectly applied makeup doing nothing to mask her fury. "George, you dare defend her?" She shoved her purse into Lucy Taylor’s waiting hands and lunged toward my mother.

"Elizabeth Shaw, you shameless old whore! I’ll kill you!’

My heart hammered against my ribs.

With my pregnant belly restricting my movement, I couldn’t physically intervene. "Stop her," I commanded Rachel, my voice low but sharp.

Rachel moved with practiced efficiency, restraining Mary before she could reach my mother. The sudden silence felt deafening after Mary’s outburst.

Mom rushed toward me, tears of humiliation welling in her eyes.

"Annie, let’s go home. Right now."