Chapter 32: The Cost of Proximity
Jack’s POV
The moment I heard Marcus had been injured, something inside me snapped. It wasn’t concern-not even close. Instead, a strange, almost feverish energy coursed through my veins as I instructed my driver to take me to Rosa Villa.
The car pulled up to the gate, and I instructed the driver to wait. "I won’t be long," I muttered, though I had no idea if that was true.
As I walked up the curved driveway, the evening air felt unusually heavy.
The gardens were immaculately maintained, soft lighting illuminating the carefully pruned trees and shrubs.
And then I saw him.
Marcus Murphy—my uncle, my mother’s brother, the Murphy family golden boy-was sitting comfortably in the garden pavilion like he belonged there. Like he owned the place. He looked surprisingly at ease for someone who’d supposedly been injured. A book lay open in his lap, and he was sipping what appeared to be tea from one of Anna’s finest china cups.
My blood boiled. Had Rosa Villa become Anna’s secret place to entertain men? And not just any man, but *Marcus*?
His eyes flicked up, registering my approach with that same infuriating calm he always maintained. No surprise, no guilt, not even the courtesy of looking uncomfortable at being caught.
"Jack," he greeted me, as if my arrival at my ex-wife’s private villa was the most natural thing in the world.
"I heard you were injured," I said coldly, not bothering with pleasantries. My gaze swept over him, searching for signs of physical distress but finding none. "You look perfectly fine to me."
"A minor incident," he replied, closing his book and setting it aside.