One Night Stand With My Ex's Uncle

Jack’s POV

"Who would do such a thing? Who?" Mother’s voice trembled, her perfectly manicured hand clutching at her pearl necklace.

I watched her panicked expression with a strange flicker of satisfaction.

For the first time in years, Mary Simpson displayed genuine fear instead of her usual calculated disdain.

’Take a guess," I drawled, dragging out each syllable.

"How am I supposed to know?" Her eyes darted frantically as her mind raced through the list of Simpson family enemies. The fact that such a list existed spoke volumes about our family’s true legacy in Skyview City.

Lucy shifted uncomfortably beside Mother, her voice barely above a whisper. "Jack, was it.. Anna?"

"Anna Shaw?" Mother froze at the name, her face draining of what little color remained. "Has she lost her mind? How dare she?"

I stared directly into Mother’s eyes, unexpected fury surging through me.

For decades, the Simpsons had trampled over anyone who stood in their way, never once considering the consequences.

"Even a cornered rabbit will bite back," I said coldly, each word sharp enough to draw blood. "You’ve targeted the Shaw family relentlessly. This is merely retaliation."

Mother’s face paled further, her lips quivering. "This is a society of laws.

She can’t just hurt people as she pleases! I’ll sue her!"

I caught that flicker of guilt in her eyes —no doubt remembering her own transgressions. She attempted to regain composure. "Yes, I’ll sue her. She can’t get away with this."

"Sue?" A bitter laugh escaped me. "Do you have any idea why Dad was in the South Industrial District in the first place?"

I paused, watching Mother’s expression grow increasingly anxious, then continued, "Yesterday afternoon, an abandoned warehouse in the district suddenly caught fire. The fire department was called. Care to guess who was responsible?"

My voice dropped to an icy whisper.

"Do you know what the penalty is for arson?"

My mouth twisted into a mirthless smile. "Simpson Group’s chairman committing arson to destroy evidence.

That would make quite the headline, wouldn’t it? Dad would become famous, don’t you think?"

Mother’s eyes widened in horror, her face contorted with outrage and helplessness. "So Anna Shaw just gets away with it? "

The sheer exhaustion of it all washed over me. "Gets away with it? Just like you all have?’

My words struck home, leaving Mother speechless.

Lucy smoothly broke the uncomfortable silence. "Jack, you haven’t eaten. Mrs. Simpson had the kitchen prepare a special nourishing soup for you and Mr. Simpson. He can’t have any right now, but you should eat something."

I noticed Mother’s surprised glance at Lucy before she seized the graceful exit. "Yes, have something to eat. I need to think about your father’s situation."

Anna’s POV

I followed the rehabilitation therapist’s instructions. Each deliberate movement stretched my muscles, sending a pleasant warmth through my recovering body.

"Perfect form, Ms. Shaw," she nodded approvingly. "These exercises will help your core strength return faster."

I felt the subtle burn across my abdomen as I completed the final stretch. The C-section incision had healed remarkably well, according to my doctor. My body was gradually reclaiming its former strength strength I would need when Marcus returned with Benedict.

As the therapist packed her equipment, Rachel knocked and entered, her expression slightly tense.

She waited until we were alone before speaking.

"Ms. Shaw, George Simpson was admitted to ICU early this morning.

He’s still unconscious."

I absorbed this information with a slight nod, my expression revealing nothing of the conflicting emotions beneath. _Good_. The cruel part of me thought. _Let him suffer_. But the businesswoman in me immediately calculated the implications.

"He’s still at Tranquil Hospital?" I asked, voice measured.

Rachel nodded. "Yes. They haven’t transferred him."

"Then his condition must be stable but serious," I concluded. "If Tranquil couldn’t handle it, Jack would have arranged a transfer immediately."

A flicker of admiration crossed Rachel’s face. "You’re right. That’s exactly what I was thinking."

I moved to my closet, selecting a tailored cream blouse and charcoal pencil skirt. "The board meeting starts in twenty minutes. Please have my laptop ready."

In front of my vanity, I applied foundation with practiced strokes, covering the lingering shadows under my eyes. Next came mascara, liner, a hint of blush. I fastened pearl earrings and slipped on a platinum bracelet— simple yet elegant accessories that projected the polished confidence expected of Shaw Corp’s CEO.

The mirror reflected a woman who appeared rested, focused, and entirely in control-not someone who had given birth weeks ago and nearly lost her son. Not someone who had ordered the father of her ex-husband tied to a tree in freezing temperatures.

When the video conference began, I registered the momentary surprise on the executives faces. They’d clearly expected to see a weakened version of me, not the immaculate Anna Shaw they were accustomed to.

’Today’s agenda has three key points," I began, voice crisp and authoritative.

"First, the Paradise Valley Estates financing structure..."

I was midway through explaining our upcoming investment strategy when the door opened behind me. Mom entered, cradling Sophia whose face was flushed from crying, tiny fists waving in distress.

"I’m so sorry to interrupt," Mom whispered apologetically. "She’s been crying for twenty minutes straight.

Nothing we try is working."

I gestured for her to bring Sophia to me, not missing a beat in my presentation. The moment she was nestled in my arms, her cries ceased abruptly. Her wide gazed up at me with complete trust.

A wave of warmth flooded my chest, but I allowed only the slightest curve of my lips to show it. I adjusted my posture, balancing my daughter against my shoulder while maintaining eye contact with the board members.

"Let’s continue," I said smoothly, my free hand scrolling through the quarterly projections. "As you can see from these numbers, our position remains strong despite recent market fluctuations."

Sophia made a small contented sound against my neck, her tiny fingers curling around a strand of my hair. In that moment, I felt the perfect harmony of my dual identities-the respected business leader and the protective mother—neither diminished by the presence of the other.