Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

A faint sense of unease settled in Ivy Sherwood’s heart, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on the feeling.

It was as if her entire heart was suspended in mid-air, leaving her feeling empty and unmoored.

She clutched the blanket, placing her other hand on her stomach.

Then, she picked up her phone and called Zane Linton.

It took a long while before Zane Linton finally answered, "Miss Sherwood."

"I’m sorry, Zane. I know it’s late to be bothering you."

"It’s no problem, Miss Sherwood."

Ivy Sherwood asked, "I was trying to call Quentin Blackwood, but he didn’t pick up. Is he still busy?"

Zane Linton paused on the other end. After a couple of seconds, he said, "Yes, President Blackwood is still busy. His phone might be dead. I saw him a little while ago, but I’m off handling something else now."

This wasn’t exactly a lie. Zane had indeed seen Quentin Blackwood at the hospital not long ago, and now he was busy with other tasks.

President Blackwood had told him not to mention this to Ivy Sherwood, so for now, Zane kept quiet.

’Did Miss Sherwood sense something was wrong, for her to be calling at this hour?’

"Okay, good. Thank you."

Ivy Sherwood hung up, and the weight in her heart lifted.

She got out of bed and went to pour herself a glass of water, but the glass suddenly slipped from her hand, shattering into pieces on the floor.

Ivy Sherwood quickly grabbed a broom to clean up the glass shards. Afterward, she returned to bed, but she couldn’t fall asleep no matter how hard she tried.

...

At four in the morning, neither Joy Sheridan nor Quentin Blackwood had left. They were still sitting outside the intensive care unit.

Soon, a doctor came out and said the patient was awake, but his condition was still not good. He hoped the family could go in, talk to the patient, and offer some encouragement to strengthen his will to live.

Joy Sheridan changed into a set of scrubs and entered the hospital room. She shooed everyone else out, saying she wanted to be alone with her grandfather.

The old master was hooked up to various machines, lying motionless on the hospital bed.

Only his eyes were open, just a crack, able to see what was in front of him.

Upon seeing Joy Sheridan, his hand twitched, as if trying to reach for hers.

Joy Sheridan did indeed take his hand. "Grandpa."

The old master’s mouth opened and closed, as if trying to say something, but no sound came out.

If one looked closely, they could see he was mouthing the name "Joy."

"Grandpa." Now, Joy Sheridan showed none of the heart-wrenching grief she had displayed in front of Quentin Blackwood outside. Her expression was utterly placid, her eyes filled with cold indifference.

"If you die, I’ll be all alone in this world. Do you really want to see me left desolate and lonely?"

"You took a bullet to save Quentin Blackwood. You’re his savior. Whatever you say now, he’ll definitely listen. Grandpa, I’m begging you. Please, push us together. Make him be with me, okay?"

The old master just stared at Joy Sheridan, tears from the corners of his eyes trickling down his cheeks and into the white pillow.

Joy Sheridan gripped her grandfather’s hand and knelt directly before him.

She kept her voice low, just enough for her and Old Master Sheridan to hear. "Grandpa, I’m begging you. I’m really, truly begging you. This is the perfect chance, and it’s my only chance. As long as you say the word, Quentin Blackwood will agree!"

Only now did Joy Sheridan begin to cry, but these were not tears of pain for Old Master Sheridan’s injury. They were tears shed to beg her grandfather to grant her wish to be with Quentin Blackwood.

Seeing Joy Sheridan like this, how could Old Master Sheridan not feel heartbroken?

This was the treasure he had cherished his entire life. He had originally planned to help Joy, but he felt the chances were slim, so he had always advised her to give up.

He didn’t want to give her false hope, fearing she would only be more disappointed in the end.

"Joy... tonight..." the old master began with great difficulty. He was so weak that his voice was barely a whisper.

"The shooting... was... you..."

Joy Sheridan froze. "Grandpa... you..."

She hadn’t expected her grandfather to have figured it out. ’But what did it matter? What was done was done.’

"Grandpa, I don’t know what you’re talking about. You say over and over that you love me most, but I don’t feel your love at all. Doesn’t loving me mean giving me what I want? And what I want is Quentin Blackwood."

With reddened eyes, Joy Sheridan said, "I know you don’t have much time left. If you really want what’s best for me, then don’t pull through. Let Quentin Blackwood feel guilty for the rest of his life. Make him marry me."

"I’ll be so grateful, Grandpa. I’ll remember you forever. Just let this be the last thing you do for me, okay? When you get to the other side, Mom and Dad will thank you, too."

Old Master Sheridan simply wept, watching Joy Sheridan in silence.

Joy Sheridan didn’t understand what he meant by this. Was he agreeing or not?

’She had already come this far. This was perhaps her only chance.’

’Her original plan had been to kill her grandfather to make Quentin Blackwood feel indebted. Now that her grandfather had taken a bullet for him, wasn’t this his way of deliberately helping her achieve her goal?’

’Regardless, there was no turning back for her now.’

’She loved her grandfather dearly, too, but he was old. He couldn’t stay with her forever and could pass away at any moment.’

’Only Quentin Blackwood... only Quentin Blackwood could be with her always, forever and ever.’

’Besides, Ivy Sherwood’s appearance had given her a profound sense of crisis. If Quentin Blackwood married Ivy Sherwood, her chance would be gone forever.’

’She might as well use her grandfather one last time to get what she wanted.’

"Grandpa, I’m just so hopelessly in love with him. If he won’t marry me, I’ll kill myself. I’ll come and join you, Grandpa, and Mom and Dad. Then our whole family can be reunited."

"Grandpa, do you want us to be reunited?"

The old master’s heart clenched in pain. This was the last of the Sheridan bloodline. Despite his disappointment, despite how utterly heartbroken he was...

’But... he couldn’t fail his late wife, or his son and daughter-in-law.’

"Get... get Quentin... in here..." the old master said with great effort.

Joy Sheridan quickly wiped her tears. "Okay, okay!"

She let go of her grandfather’s hand without a second glance, showing not a hint of reluctance as she hurried off to find Quentin Blackwood.

But the old master watched her retreating back, and his tears flowed even faster.

The old master had been a capable man his whole life, single-handedly building up a massive company and commanding respect everywhere he went. Not until this day had he ever cried so brokenly.

His heart had already been weak, and now, fueled by his intense emotions, it was pounding violently.

’He didn’t know if people sensed when they were about to die, but he thought he could see his late wife waving at him, telling him he could finally be free.’

’He also seemed to see his son and daughter-in-law. They were all blaming him, blaming him for not taking good care of Joy.’

’He was so tired, but he couldn’t close his eyes yet. There was still Joy. He hadn’t settled things regarding Joy yet. He had to hold on.’

The old master had seen through it all—that the attackers had been hired by Joy Sheridan, that he had figured out her true goal. That was why he had thrown himself behind Quentin Blackwood to block the bullet.

’He couldn’t let his granddaughter suffer, so he could only do wrong by Quentin Blackwood. I hope Quentin won’t blame me.’