CHAPTER 155: MY OBSESSION

Lucy’s POV

I watched with barely disguised disgust as Mary Simpson paced back and forth in her expensive heels on the perfectly manicured gravel driveway of Murphy Estate, hurling accusations at the door that refused to open for her.

"How dare they? I am William’s daughter!"

The carefully selected gifts now lay scattered across the ground where she’d thrown them in her rage. Such waste. Such stupidity.

Mary had never truly understood her position. Yes, she was born a Murphy, but she had married into the Simpson family. Murphy wealth had elevated George from a nobody to someone of consequence. William and Phillip had given him connections, and this was how Mary repaid that generosity— burning bridges when she needed them most.

I maintained my concerned, loyal expression as I bent down to pick up the gifts. My dress might get dirty from the gravel, but appearances mattered more than clothing right now.

"Mrs. Simpson, please," I called softly, brushing dirt from a box of chocolates.

"Let me handle this."

Mary’s eyes flashed dangerously. "They choose that Shaw whore over their own blood!"

I rose gracefully, cradling the collected presents, and walked to the intercom.

The guard’s voice came through the machine, professional but cold.

’These gifts were specially chosen for William by Mrs. Simpson," I explained, my voice laced with manufactured sweetness and sincerity. "It’s a gesture of respect. Perhaps you could ensure they reach him?"

After receiving confirmation, I turned back to Mary, who was still steaming like an overheated engine.

"Mrs. Simpson, we should leave now." I touched her elbow lightly. "There’s no need for anyone to see you upset."

The mention of appearances worked like magic. Mary straightened her shoulders, the social maven mask sliding back into place. She gave a curt nod, allowing me to guide her back to the waiting sedan.

Once seated in the leather-wrapped safety of the car, I waited until we’d driven past the gates of Murphy Estate before speaking again.

"Mrs. Simpson, may I speak frankly?"

Suspicion flashed in Mary’s eyes, but she nodded. "Go ahead."

"I’m just a simple girl compared to someone like Anna Shaw," I deliberately belittled myself to soothe her wounded pride. "But even I can see that fighting the Murphys right now isn’t the priority."

Her mouth pressed into a tight line.

"What are you suggesting?"

"Your husband built his fortune through Murphy connections. William and Phillip have clearly taken sides against him. When Marcus returns_"

I paused, letting the implication sink in. "When Marcus returns, Simpson Group will be finished."

I watched Mary’s expression transform as my words took root. The Murphy princess looked suddenly vulnerable, her perfectly made-up face crumbling slightly at the edges. _Perfect_.

"The Murphy family is your birthright, Mrs. Simpson," I continued, my voice dripping with sincerity. "Even if you dislike Anna Shaw, William is still your father. He’ll always be your safety net."

I leaned forward, catching her gaze.

"And Phillip too. If you alienate them all now, what happens if things with George... deteriorate further? You’ll have no one to turn to."

Her fingers tightened around her designer handbag until the knuckles whitened. I’d struck a nerve by hinting at George’s potential betrayal.

"As for Anna Shaw," I added softly, "even if she marries Marcus, you are her sister" I paused for effect. "They’re not afraid of losing face. Why should you be? You’re the wronged party here."

Something shifted in Mary’s eyes-a transformation from blind rage to calculated awareness. She suddenly grabbed my hand, tears glistening.

"Lucy, I knew I wasn’t wrong about you. I’ve always thought you were a wise girl." Her voice trembled slightly.

"Thank goodness you reminded me, or I’d still be stubbornly heading down the wrong path."

After a moment of collecting herself, she spoke with newfound determination. "You’re right. What matters now is protecting Jack’s interests. Everything else is just smoke and mirrors."

I felt a thrill of triumph but maintained my facade of devoted concern. I squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Don’t worry, Mrs. Simpson. I’ll always be by your side to help you."

"Good," she nodded firmly. "If I ever lose my way again, promise you’ll set me straight."

Mary took a deep breath, resolve hardening in her eyes. "Now, I need to go transfer all my assets immediately."

I understood perfectly—she wouldn’t divorce George, but she’d safeguard her and Jack’s future. Exactly as Id hoped. "Actually," I suggested gently, "the best solution might be for Jack to marry and move out of the Simpson house."

I suppressed a smile as her eyes lit up with interest. _Ironically_, I thought, _I might be one of the few people outside the Murphy family who genuinely wants Anna Shaw’s babies to be born healthy and for her to marry Marcus successfully_. Only then would Jack truly give up on Anna, cut her from his heart, and finally see me.

When we arrived at the Simpson mansion, we found Jack passed out on an expensive leather sofa, reeking of alcohol. Mary immediately became the concerned mother, snapping at the household staff:

"Are you all dead? Couldn’t you get Jack to his bedroom?"

A maid stared at the floor as she explained, "Mr. Simpson wouldn’t let us touch him, ma’am. He broke a vase when we tried."

"And that stopped you?" Mary scoffed.

"What are you waiting for? Get him to his room now!"

My heart ached seeing Jack in this state. Even knowing his suffering was for Anna Shaw, I still wanted to care for him. With the staff’s help, we managed to get him to the master bedroom.

After Mary hurriedly called her lawyer and left, I was alone with Jack. I slowly walked over to close the curtains, my heartbeat accelerating as darkness enveloped the room. In the shadows, Jack’s features seemed even more captivating. I couldn’t resist lying down beside him on the luxurious bed.

My fingers traced his facefrom his strong brows to his straight nose, finally resting on his lips. They were thin but incredibly sensual. Emotions I couldn’t contain surged through me as I thought about his coldness toward me and his obsession with Anna. The pain and longing twisted inside my chest.

_If only you could see how much I truly care for you_, I thought, slowly lowering my face until my trembling lips met his.

As I savored the sweetness of this stolen moment, Jack’s eyes suddenly fluttered open.