CHAPTER 23: SILENT PAWN

Jack’s POV

I watched Anna’s dismissive expression, a nameless anger rising in my chest. How could she invite my uncle to her grandmother’s birthday celebration but not me? Her former husband? The realization stung deeper than I expected.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, feigning ignorance. That only fueled my irritation.

"The invitation," I said flatly, my gaze locked on hers. "I see the Simpson family didn’t make the cut."

She hesitated, then blinked in disbelief, as if I’d asked the most absurd question imaginable.

"Why would I invite the Simpson family?" Her voice dripped with cool mockery. "Have you ever heard of someone staying close with their ex-husband’s family after a divorce?"

Her words hit hard, leaving me momentarily speechless. This woman who now acted like I didn’t exist seemed oddly close to my uncle. I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

"Then why invite him?" I demanded. "Are you two close now?"

"Very," she said without missing a beat. "Uncle Marcus has helped me tremendously. Is there something wrong with me inviting him?"

I froze.

Tremendously?

They’d been spending time together privately? That hollow ache in my chest returned, mingled with jealousy and something darker. She used to be my wife. Now she was growing close to my uncle?

Anna’s tone grew colder. She looked at me with clear detachment. "Mr. Simpson, aside from necessary professional contact, we have no reason for personal interaction. I assume you’d agree?"

I clenched my fists, her words cutting deeper than I cared to admit. She wouldn’t even meet my eyes drawing a clean, sharp line between us. Fine. If that was how she wanted to play it, I didn’t need to stay polite.

"Anna, don’t think I’m trying to cling to you," I snapped, though the bitterness in my tone betrayed me.

She raised an eyebrow, amused in a cruel way. "Then what exactly is Mr. Simpson doing right now?"

The ache in my chest twisted tighter. Logic left me, and anger took its place.

"I’m here to warn you," I said coldly, "to stay away from my uncle. A man like him isn’t someone you should be setting your sights on. If rumors start, it won’t just embarrass the Shaws and Murphys it’ll drag the Simpsons through the mud too. Besides... don’t you already have Sean? Or are you that desperate for men?"

Even as the words left my mouth, I knew I’d gone too far. But the jealousy, the resentment it had taken control of me.

Anna went pale, then flushed with rage. Her hand flew up no, her handbag did and smacked me hard across the shoulder and neck.

"Go to hell, you bastard!" she yelled. "How dare you talk like that!"

I staggered back, caught off guard as she landed more blows. "Anna! Have you lost your mind?"

But she wasn’t thinking she was done. Her carefully pinned hair fell loose, wild around her face. Her chest heaved with fury.

"Why was I so blind as to marry you?" she cried, ripping out the rest of her pins and jabbing her bag at me like a blade. "Don’t let me see you again!"

She spun on her heel, storming to her car. The engine roared, and within seconds she was gone leaving me standing there alone, cut, literally and figuratively. I reached up and felt blood on my neck. Her bag’s metal clasp must’ve nicked me.

"Crazy woman," I muttered, trying to sound annoyed but all I felt was emptiness.

Then I turned and saw Marcus standing a few feet away. My heart sank.

He’d seen everything.

My stomach twisted as our eyes met. His presence here confirmed what I’d already suspected he’d come to watch us. To see if Anna and I still had anything between us.

Judging by what had just happened... apparently, we didn’t.

But what worried me more was his expression calm, unreadable. The kind of look he always had when he’d already made up his mind.

"Uncle Marcus," I greeted stiffly, forcing composure into my voice.

He looked at me for a long moment. "You’re divorced now. Keeping your distance would be better for both of you."

His words hit like a punch to the gut.

So... my suspicion was right. He had feelings for her.

Panic bloomed inside me, and I scrambled to explain deflect stall.

"Uncle Marcus, you might not understand. Anna and I are divorced, yes, but we’re not like other couples. You don’t know what we had. She used to love me deeply, she insisted on marrying me—"

"That was in the past," Marcus cut in, calm but firm.

I swallowed hard, my voice faltering. "We only divorced because of a few issues. She must still care about me. If we just talked, if we worked through things—"

"It’s over between you two," he said.

I looked into his steady eyes and felt fear unlike any I’d known. He wasn’t just saying it. He believed it. He knew it.

"Uncle Marcus," I whispered, almost pleading now. "What are you saying?"

He answered without hesitation.

"I came back for her," he said. "And this time, I won’t let go."

Anna’s POV

I couldn’t forget the look on Jack’s face at Murphy Estate that toxic blend of accusation and jealousy when he warned me to stay away from his uncle. His words still burned in my ears: "A man like him isn’t someone you should be setting your sights on." As if I was some desperate social climber.

And his comment about Sean? That was the final straw.

The memory made my blood simmer as I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over my tense shoulders.

The phone rang as I was toweling off, Rachel’s distinct ringtone cutting through my brooding thoughts.

"Ms. Shaw," her voice was tight with urgency, "Sean just called. They found John Fisher."

My heart skipped a beat. "Have them take him to Rosa Villa. I’ll meet you there in thirty."

The basement of Rosa Villa was typically used for wine storage, but today served a different purpose.

John Fisher sat nervously on a wooden chair, his eyes darting between Sean, Rachel, and the golf club I held loosely in my right hand.

"Ms. Shaw," Sean greeted me with a slight nod.

I stepped closer to Fisher, letting the club’s head tap gently against the floor.

His eyes followed the movement, widening slightly.

"I’ll keep this simple," I said, my voice calm and controlled. "Answer two questions honestly, and you can walk away. All I ask is that you never show your face at Shaw Corp again. Lie to me, and you’ll regret it."

Fisher straightened in his chair, nervousness radiating from every pore.

"I’ll tell you everything I know, Ms. Shaw."

"Who did you sell the data to?"

He shook his head rapidly, beads of sweat already forming on his forehead.

"I don’t know. I was only given an email address, nothing more."

I nodded to Rachel, who handed him a pen and paper. I watched as he scribbled down an address, his hand trembling slightly.

"That person?" I repeated, catching his choice of words. "You met them?"

"A man, but I couldn’t tell you who. He always wore a mask and hat when we met. I never saw his face clearly."

I paused, considering this information.

"Second question: why did you steal obsolete data?"

Fisher blinked, seeming surprised I’d ask that. "That was part of his instructions. He specifically told me to take the voided test results. Said if I got caught, the consequences would be minimal since the data was worthless."

My eyes narrowed. "And this person paid you?"

"Yes," Fisher nodded frantically. "Cash. One hundred thousand dollars to send the data to that email. I used Trevor’s account to cover my tracks." His words tumbled out in a desperate rush. "I know it was wrong, Ms. Shaw. Please, I’m begging you, give me another chance."

I stepped back, my mind racing. If the buyer knew the data was worthless, then why pay so much for it? This wasn’t making sense.

"Take him to the other room," I instructed Rachel. "Keep him there until I decide what to do with him."

Sean prepared tea in the main living room of Rosa Villa while I paced before the fireplace, piecing together the puzzle.

"What’s bothering you, Ms. Shaw?" he asked carefully, setting a steaming cup on the side table.

I tapped my fingers against my chin, my mind working through the implications. "Let’s look at this logically. The stolen data was marked void completely useless to any competitor. Yet Phoenix Project was the only real victim here. Shaw Corp took the blame for the security breach."

"There’s something else," Sean added. "I heard Simpson Group’s team was the first to discover the breach."

"Simpson Group?" My blood chilled.

"Trevor didn’t even know his computer had been accessed. How did they know to look there?" The realization was crystallizing. "We all assumed Shaw Corp had a security issue. There was a leak, yes, but what if Fisher was just a pawn in someone else’s game?"

If this was deliberate, then who benefited most from discrediting Shaw Corp? The answer seemed painfully obvious: Jack? Lucy? Perhaps both?

I made a quick decision. "Keep Fisher’s capture under wraps. Monitor Simpson Group closely."

Sean nodded, his expression resolute.

"I’ll speak with Fisher again, see if there are inconsistencies in his story."

I smiled faintly, appreciating his competence.

Two days later, I was finalizing a contract with a new vendor when my office door burst open. Jack stormed in, fury etched across his handsome features.

"What the hell gives you the right to audit Simpson Group’s accounts?" he demanded, not bothering with pleasantries.

I calmly signaled for Daniel to escort our client out, waiting until the door closed before addressing my ex-husband.

"Lucy came crying to you, I see."

Jack’s face darkened further.

"I get that we have issues, Anna. But if you have a problem with me, deal with me directly. Lucy isn’t as shrewd or capable as you are. She’s not your enemy."

A bitter laugh almost escaped me. Not as capable? Was that supposed to be an excuse?

"Yes, I authorized an audit of Simpson Group’s financials," I admitted coolly.

"If Lucy’s concerned, perhaps she should ask herself why. At worst, she’s guilty of negligence, not fraud." I offered him a calculated smile. "If anything, Mr. Simpson, you should thank me for the due diligence."

"It’s just money," he said dismissively, running a hand through his hair. "I don’t care about a few accounting discrepancies. Call off your dogs. Simpson Group’s finances aren’t your concern."

Before I could respond, my phone rang. I answered it, listening intently, then ended the call with a cryptic smile.

"Why don’t you come with me?" I suggested, my tone deceptively light.

"That way, if Lucy claims I’m bullying her again, you’ll have witnessed everything firsthand."