h4Chapter 84: Unmasked/h4

    Anna’s POV

    The housekeeper led me up to the third floor of Golden Oak Manor, gesturing toward a closed door at the end of the hallway.

    "Miss, that’s Mr. Murphy’s room," she exined, pointing to a door on the left.

    "Miss, there are only two rooms on the third floor—Mr. Murphy’s and yours," another maid added, indicating the door directly in front of us.

    I blinked in confusion. "Mine?"

    When the door swung open, I stood frozen at the threshold. The room that greeted me seemed to have materialized straight from my forgotten childhood dreams. The entire space was bathed in dreamy princess pink,plemented by cream and light gray furniture that created a perfect harmony. My long-dead girlish heart suddenly flickered back to life, sending an unexpected wave of emotion through me.

    This couldn’t possibly be ast-minute arrangement. The imported hand-

    woven wool carpet alone wasn’t something you could just order on a whim. I stepped inside hesitantly, my mind reeling with questions. Once upon a time, I had adored pink. If not for this room, I might havepletely forgotten that the little girl I once was had been such a stereotypical sweetheart.

    But the revtion spawned a disturbing question-how did Marcus Murphy know about my childhood preferences? Even if he had known my father, such personal details shouldn’t have been part of their conversations.

    When the maid presented a pale pink nightgown, I politely declined. These sweet pastel colors no longer suited the woman I’d be. Some happiness simply couldn’t be recaptured, and I’d worked too hard to be today’s Anna Shaw to regress. I needed to get out, afraid that staying even a second longer might entangle me in something I wasn’t ready to face.

    "I think I’ll take a walk outside instead," I announced, hastily retreating from the room.

    The winter gardens of Golden Oak Manor stretched before me, barren yet beautiful. Only the evergreens stood defiant against the cold, their needles glistening with frost. Despite the sunshine, the air had a crisp bite to it.

    I pulled my coat tighter and walked until my troubled thoughts began to quiet.

    "Really nning to walk all the way home?" Marcus’s voice suddenly materialized behind me.

    I turned, momentarily startled. "I have a question for you," I said directly.

    "Go ahead." His response was characteristically terse.

    "Did we know each other before?" The question that had been burning inside me finally escaped.

    "Yes."

    "When?"

    "Ten years ago."

    "Ten years ago?" I repeated, genuinely confused. Nothing in my memory corresponded with this im.

    Marcus’s voice cooled noticeably. "You forgot?"

    A strange suspicion began forming in my mind. "Were you injured when we met? Were you bleeding?"

    His eyes narrowed with sudden intensity. "I thought you didn’t remember? What’s going on?"

    "If you were bleeding at that time, it’s possible I genuinely forgot everything about it. Sorry about that, Uncle Marcus." My voice remained steady, though my heart certainly wasn’t.

    "The room is beautiful," I said, changing the subject, "but I don’t like pink anymore."

    "Uncle Marcus, could you please have someone drive me home? I really am quite busy." I forced a smile, pretending everything was normal.

    - - -

    When I arrived back at Shaw Estate, thest people I expected to see were the Porters. Yet there was Doris, sitting ufortably on our sofa while my mother hovered nearby with an anxious expression.

    "Annie’s back!" Doris eximed, rising to greet me with obvious difort in her manner.

    "Annie, I’m truly sorry," she continued, her face etched with remorse. "It’s all my fault for not raising Logan properly. You’ve suffered because of him."

    "Really, my mom scratched his face with her nails," Oscar interjected earnestly. "Three deep marks, all bleeding. She hit him really hard."

    Doris’s eyes reddened at the edges.

    "That boy used to be so obedient and thoughtful. The more proud I was of him before, the more disappointed I am now. How did he turn out this way?"

    "Annie, I’m apologizing on his behalf.

    I don’t expect you to forgive him-just please don’t be angry. For the sake of our families’ rtionship, give him another chance," Doris pleaded, her voice thick with guilt.

    I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. "Aunt Doris, I have no objection to our families continuing their rtionship, but things between Logan and me can never go back to how they were."

    "I understand this situation must be difficult for all of us," I said, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions brewing inside me. "But Logan deliberately orchestrated my ident.

    I can’t simply forget that happened."

    Doris’s expression froze, thest glimmer of hope for reconciliation dying in her eyes. Her perfectly manicured hands trembled slightly in herp.

    "I-I understand," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I just hoped that perhaps..."

    "I’m sorry, Aunt Doris," I replied firmly. "For safety reasons, I need to keep my distance from Logan."

    The door closed behind them with a soft click that somehow felt more final than a m.

    My mother turned to me immediately.

    "Annie, I’m so sorry I ever encouraged your connection with Logan. If I’d known..." Her voice cracked with emotion.

    "We’ll cut ties with the Porterspletely," Mother dered with uncharacteristic firmness. "I don’t care about the business implications or social appearances."

    The conviction in her voice touched something deep within me. I thought she’d worry about Grace and let it go.

    "It’ll be fine," I assured them both, even as my mind struggled to process everything that had happened. "This isn’t your fault. I never suspected Logan either."

    Mother hesitated, then asked tentatively, "Annie, about Marcus Murphy..."

    "I have work to do," I cut her off, unwilling to navigate thoseplicated waters just yet. "Shaw Corp won’t run itself."

    I hurried to my room, ignoring the concerned nces exchanged between my mother and grandmother. Despite my still-healing shoulders, I managed to change into a professional outfit with Rachel’s help and headed straight to the office.

    Work was a blessed distraction from the emotional chaos threatening to overwhelm me. I buried myself in spreadsheets and contracts until the winter sky darkened outside my office windows.

    I nced at my watch—10:12 PM. The building had emptied hours ago, with only Sean remaining to assist me.

    "You should head home, Sean," I told him as I gathered my belongings. "I’s too cold for you to wait while I finish up here."

    "Are you sure, Ms. Shaw?" he asked, concern evident in his voice. "I can wait and drive you home."

    "I’m fine," I insisted. "Go home to your family."

    After Sean left, I locked up and headed toward the parking garage.

    The winter night had transformed the city into a crystallinendscape, beautiful but treacherous. My breath formed small clouds in the frigid air as I stepped carefully across the partially iced sidewalk.

    I was fumbling with my car keys when a familiar voice froze me in ce.

    "Anna, I’ve been waiting for you."

    Logan Porter stood less than ten feet away, his face partially hidden behind a gray scarf, his sses reflecting the dim streetlight. My heart hammered against my ribs, but I forced my expression to remain impassive.

    "What do you want?" I asked, my voice cold enough to match the winter air.

    "I wanted to see your face when you saw me," he replied with disturbing calmness. "We were bound to run into each other eventually. Skyview City isn’t that big."

    "You should leave," I warned. "I don’t hate you right now, Logan, but that could change quickly."

    A smile spread across his partially hidden face, sending chills down my spine that had nothing to do with the temperature.

    "You think this is over," he said softly.

    "But I’ve only just begun, Anna. You still don’t understand, do you?"

    "Understand what?" I demanded, anger finally breaking through my carefulposure.

    "That security guard, the special shoes, implicating Oscar—I made sure you’d know it was me," he exined, as if discussing something as mundane as the weather forecast. "I wanted you to know."

    I stood there, paralyzed with confusion and disbelief. The Logan I thought I knew hadpletely vanished, reced by this stranger with cold, calcting eyes.

    "Why?" I whispered, the question escaping my lips before I could stop it.