Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

’Sylvia Blackwood’s eyes... why do they look so much like... Ivy Sherwood’s?’

Sylvia Blackwood panicked, quickly snatching her sunglasses back and putting them on.

’Dad said I can’t tell anyone I had work done on my eyes. I’ve just been recuperating at the hospital, and I only came back to grab a few things.’

"Don’t you understand, Anna Nash? Get out!"

’She’d already had the surgery, and her eyes were indeed much bigger. She didn’t know what the doctor had used, but her eyes even felt brighter.’

’But she was still in the recovery period, so you could still see signs of the procedure. She needed to rest and recuperate properly. The doctor said there would be more adjustments, and she might even have to go under the knife again later.’

These past few days, whenever Sylvia Blackwood looked in the mirror, she always felt her eyes resembled someone, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on who.

"Sylvia Blackwood, you went and got plastic surgery, didn’t you?" Anna Nash said bluntly.

"If you keep spouting nonsense, I’ll rip your mouth off! I did not get plastic surgery!"

’She just had a little work done on her eyes. But she had to admit, they were much prettier. These eyes were genuinely beautiful.’

Anna Nash sneered. "You know perfectly well whether you did or not. Getting all dolled up like this, are you trying to seduce someone?"

Sylvia Blackwood couldn’t stand being talked to like that. She lunged forward. "What nonsense are you talking about? Shut your mouth, you bitch! You think everyone is like you, a natural-born vixen born just to seduce men?"

"You dare touch me. If anything happens to the baby in my belly, can you take responsibility? This is your family’s only flesh and blood."

Sylvia Blackwood froze. The Anna Nash of today was utterly detestable, acting completely lawless just because she was pregnant.

"So what if I was born to seduce men? If you had my skills, you wouldn’t have ended up in this state. Does a single cent in this house belong to you? In the future, it’ll all belong to the child in my belly. I suggest you start sucking up to me now. Otherwise, there won’t be a place for you in this family!"

Anna Nash now had the leverage and the confidence to back up her words. Hearing this, Sylvia Blackwood exploded with rage. "Anna Nash, who the hell do you think you are!"

"Even if you give birth, nothing in this family will have anything to do with you! You want to kick me out? You’re dreaming! Get out! Get the hell out of here!"

With that, Sylvia Blackwood shoved Anna Nash out of the room.

’She didn’t dare to actually hurt Anna Nash, so it was better to just get her out of sight.’

Outside the door, a flicker of something passed through Anna Nash’s eyes. ’Sylvia Blackwood was right. As things stood, this family had nothing to do with her.’

’Although Silas Blackwood was the heir to the Blackwood family, he currently had nothing to his name, not even company shares.’

’The Blackwood Group shares were still in Caleb Blackwood’s hands. Silas Blackwood didn’t even own a single house. If she divorced Silas, she would be left with nothing. And on top of that, there was the secret of her baby.’

’Premature babies... they could survive if born at six months, right?’

Her gaze turned sharp and piercing. ’She couldn’t wait any longer!’

’And another thing—Sylvia Blackwood’s eyes, the ones she just saw, really did look like Ivy Sherwood’s.’

’Ivy Sherwood’s looks were unremarkable, except for her eyes. The whites and irises were starkly defined, clear and bright, as beautiful as jewels—enough to make anyone jealous.’

’But Sylvia Blackwood had never seemed to think Ivy was pretty before, so why would she get her eyes done to look like Ivy’s?’

’She felt something was very wrong here. There had to be something more to it.’

Anna Nash waited downstairs for a while, and soon Sylvia Blackwood came down with her things.

Anna Nash blocked her path. "Sylvia Blackwood, why the sudden plastic surgery?"

"I told you, I didn’t get plastic surgery. And why should I tell you anyway?" Sylvia Blackwood said impatiently.

"If you don’t tell me, I’ll tell everyone you had plastic surgery. Your friends will definitely laugh at you, won’t they? They’ll say you’re vain, that you only got work done because you’re ugly..."

"I’ll say it again, I didn’t get plastic surgery! You think I wanted to? This was all Dad’s arrangement!"

After blurting that out, Sylvia Blackwood shoved Anna Nash aside and left the villa.

But Sylvia Blackwood’s words left Anna Nash filled with doubt.

’Why would Caleb Blackwood suddenly have Sylvia Blackwood get plastic surgery? And why make her eyes look so much like Ivy Sherwood’s? Was there something going on here?’

’Caleb Blackwood was definitely full of secrets. It seemed there was much more she didn’t know. Then she thought of the Jade Pendant she had seen. The pendant must hold a secret, too. All of this seemed to be connected to Ivy Sherwood.’

’Otherwise, why had Caleb Blackwood been so insistent on Ivy Sherwood being his daughter-in-law from the very beginning?’

Anna Nash thought for a moment, then found the photo she had taken of the Jade Pendant. After studying it for a bit, she cropped the photo in half, leaving only one part of the pendant, and sent it to Ivy Sherwood.

"Ivy Sherwood, have you seen this Jade Pendant before?"

It was now nighttime. Ivy Sherwood was still in Quentin Blackwood’s study; these past few days, she had been working even later than he did.

She still had some work to do. The coffee beside her had already gone cold. Ivy picked it up to take a sip, but as she drank, she realized—when had her coffee been swapped for milk?

’She didn’t need to ask to know whose handiwork this was.’

’Quentin Blackwood had told her that drinking too much coffee would affect her sleep at night, but in reality, he was the one who drank the most.’

She had been swamped with work lately, but Quentin Blackwood didn’t disturb or rush her. He was probably used to being busy himself and knew that people hated being interrupted when they were focused. So he just stayed by her side, cutting up fruit and making her milk, keeping her company.

At that moment, Quentin Blackwood was right beside Ivy, busy with his own work.

"When did you switch my coffee for milk?" Ivy turned to look at him.

The man was in his loungewear. He hadn’t styled his hair after his shower, and it just hung down naturally.

His bangs seemed a little long, covering his eyelashes. Quentin Blackwood ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling it up. He wasn’t deliberately styling it, but it had a messy sort of handsomeness to it.

"Drinking too much is bad for you."

"Then why are you still drinking it?" Ivy glanced at his cup.

Quentin Blackwood said, "I’m fine. I’m in good shape."

Ivy was speechless. "...What do you mean, ’in good shape’? You old man, your health might not even be as good as mine!"

"Not in good shape?" Quentin Blackwood’s eyes narrowed. ’When had he ever given Ivy that impression?’

"Where, exactly? Perhaps Miss Sherwood would care to elaborate?"

Ivy was silent. "..."

"Can’t say? Then it must be because Miss Sherwood doesn’t know me well enough. Why don’t you have a feel and see for yourself exactly where I’m not in good shape?"

With that, he took Ivy’s hand and placed it on his abdomen.

Even through his clothes, Ivy could feel the powerful muscles beneath—hard, full, well-defined abs, brimming with strength.

’She could even feel the scorching heat on her palm. She knew they had been too busy lately and hadn’t been intimate with Quentin for quite some time.’

’One look at his eyes told her trouble was brewing. An ’old man’ in his late twenties couldn’t handle having his virility questioned like this. Even though Ivy was just stating a simple fact—his stomach problems counted as not being in good shape, right?’