Anna's POV
As we stepped into the grand hall of the Murphy Estate, the buzz of conversation dulled beneath William Murphy's booming voice.
"Come, come! You must meet Marcus!"
The crowd parted like a curtain, revealing a man standing tall, his gaze cutting through the air like a blade. His eyes landed on me for a single, electric moment then flicked away just as quickly, as if I were insignificant.
Something about him made the room feel smaller. Marcus Murphy was striking, yes but it was more than looks. He carried himself like a man who owned every room he walked into.
He couldn't have been older than thirty-two, but the aura he exuded was heavy with experience. His tailored suit fit with the effortless precision of someone who'd worn power like a second skin for most of his life. He wasn't like Jack. Jack had polish, but Marcus had presence.
"Anna, my dear!" William's warm tone pulled me back. He took both my hands in his, his eyes crinkling with affection.
"Marcus, this is Anna Shaw. She's the one who saved my life, remember? A brilliant woman she's done incredible work with Shaw Corp."
I caught the deliberate glances around the room, especially from the Simpsons. William was sending a message loud and clear: I still mattered.
"You must call him Uncle Marcus," he added, chuckling. "Just like Catherine does. You're still family."
Marcus's lips curved slightly not quite a smile, more a studied reaction.
"Indeed. Very impressive," he said, voice deep and controlled. The compliment was measured, but not false.
"Your reputation precedes you as well," I replied smoothly. "Catherine speaks highly of your achievements in Europe."
We exchanged pleasantries, but I couldn't shake the weight of his gaze, the way he seemed to watch and analyze everyone nespecially me while giving away absolutely nothing.
Later, when the social niceties had been fulfilled, I made my polite exit. William pulled me into a fond embrace, whispering, "Don't be a stranger, my dear."
As I left the hall, I nearly bumped into Jack. Our eyes met for a brief moment his unreadable, mine tired and for once, he let me go without a word.
Maybe he's finally letting go, I thought, though the thought left a strange ache I didn't want to examine.
I slid into the car. "Rosa Villa," I instructed my driver.
Sean had been waiting patiently. Discreet, charming, uncomplicated everything my life wasn't. I owed him a bit more of my attention.
But even as we drove, my thoughts drifted back to Marcus Murphy's eyes. Eyes that had looked right through me… and yet, left me feeling seen.
Marcus's POV
The moment she stepped into the hall, I watched her carefully, studying every inch of her face for a flicker of recognition.
There was none.
Her gaze didn't linger, didn't hesitate. She saw me but not me.
Anna Shaw had no idea that the man she once begged for more at Olympus Club was standing right in front of her.
But I remembered everything. Her scent Jasmine laced with vanilla hit me like a memory made flesh. That night had never left me.
She'd been with Catherine, clearly unraveling from the weight of her divorce. I'd been there on business, speaking to the club's owner. When her friend suggested hiring company for the night, I saw my chance.
It was reckless. Stupid, even. But for a man like me, who plans everything… Anna Shaw was the one thing I hadn't planned.
She didn't know it was me. Not then. Not now. And yet, I'd touched her in ways no man ever had.
I thought today maybe, just maybe she'd recognize something. A look. A sound. The air between us.
But she was more concerned with social games and avoiding her ex-husband's new plaything than remembering the night I made her forget her name.
"Mr. Murphy," Peter Reed, my assistant, interrupted. "Ms. Shaw's car was spotted heading to Rosa Villa."
My jaw tensed. Rosa Villa where she kept him. The boy who took credit for a night that belonged to me.
"She's still seeing him?" I kept my voice even, but inside, something primal twisted.
"Yes, sir."
"Keep eyes on her."
She'd run from me once. Unknowingly. But I'd returned for a reason. And if Anna Shaw needed reminding of who truly made her tremble I would deliver that reminder personally.
Next time, she wouldn't forget.