One Night Stand With My Ex's Uncle

Chapter 20: Terms of Survival

Lucy’s POV

My heart stopped the moment Anna’s words cut through the room like a blade:

"Then we terminate our partnership."

The floor tilted beneath me, panic surging like a tidal wave up my throat. No, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Anna Shaw was meant to crack under pressure not flip the entire damn table.

She’s bluffing, I told myself, clinging to the hope like a lifeline. She has to be bluffing.

The Phoenix Project was a guaranteed win. No sane executive would walk away from a goldmine over some glorified escort.

But the look in Anna’s eyes wasn’t the look of someone bluffing. It was cold. Unflinching. Calculated.

I forced a calm expression onto my face, though my mind spiraled through the implications. Without Phoenix, I’d lose everything my position, my leverage. My title as General Manager wasn’t just a job; it was my legitimacy in the eyes of the Simpson family.

Months of carefully cultivated goodwill with Mary Simpson would vanish. All that effort to position myself as the perfect daughter-in-law alternative gone.

Have they all lost their minds? I thought, watching this absurd standoff unfold. Phoenix was bulletproof. The research, the market projections it was built to succeed.

And then it hit me: Anna wasn’t bluffing.

She was calling ours.

She knew Jack wouldn’t risk terminating the deal. She was gambling that he needed Phoenix just as badly as Shaw Corp did.

Then, as if to twist the knife deeper, Anna spoke again.

"Actually, I have a compromise," she said, her voice a velvet trap. "Jack fires Lucy. I fire Sean. We both bring in new, qualified managers for Phoenix."

The fake smile I’d plastered on my face faltered.

"Oh, Anna," I said with a brittle laugh. "You’re such a joker."

But inside, panic was bubbling up like boiling water. No. No. No. This wasn’t happening. I turned to Jack, pleading silently, willing him not to even consider it.

"This is ridiculous," Jack snapped, his face darkening. "You’re just trying to get revenge on Lucy because of our past."

"Revenge?" Anna arched a brow, ice-cold. "Please, Jack. You’re ancient history. I couldn’t care less about your love life."

I saw Jack flinch Anna knew exactly where to strike. His ego was always his soft spot, and she hit it with surgical precision.

"This is about Phoenix," she continued coolly. "Nothing more, nothing less."

My hands curled into fists beneath the table, nails digging into my palms as I kept my smile frozen in place. Everything I’d built was balancing on a knife’s edge. If Jack took this deal, I wouldn’t just lose my title I’d lose the only real power I had in the Simpson family. The moment I stopped being useful, Mary Simpson would drop me like a bad investment.

I will not let this happen.

Just as I began mentally strategizing my next move, the office door opened with a deliberate swing, and in walked Marcus Murphy like a storm in a suit. The air seemed to shift, heavy with his presence.

Even Jack looked smaller.

"My father asked me to mediate," Marcus announced, taking the head seat without pause. His voice rang with the kind of authority that silenced a room faster than a slammed gavel.

"Uncle Marcus—" I began, trying to play the family card.

His eyes, sharp and glacial, snapped to mine.

"Ms. Taylor," he said, voice clipped. "I don’t recall granting you permission to address me so intimately."

My face flushed with humiliation. I could feel their stares, their silent judgment. The mistress playing at being family.

Still, I straightened my spine. I wouldn’t be dismissed.

"As General Manager of Phoenix," I said, steadying my voice, "I have some suggestions to resolve this situation."

Marcus said nothing, but his impassive stare made me want to crawl under the table. Still, I pushed forward. I had to.

"First," I began, keeping my tone measured, "Shaw Corp could compensate for the data breach by offering Simpson Group an additional 2% in profit share."

I glanced at Anna, watching for her reaction. When she gave a small nod, my confidence grew.

"Second," I continued, "we divide responsibilities more clearly Shaw handles R&D and production, while Simpson takes charge of marketing and sales. This protects both companies’ core interests."

To my surprise, Anna considered the terms without protest.

This was working.

Truthfully, I’d hated managing production. Too many moving parts, constant technical issues I barely understood. Offloading it while keeping my title? Ideal.

"Finally," I added, "regarding Mr. Smith he could stay on until the data theft investigation is concluded. Once resolved, we revisit his role."

Silence fell like a curtain.

All eyes turned to Marcus.

He was still, unreadable. Then finally,

"Ms. Shaw?" he asked.

"The terms are acceptable," Anna said coolly. "If Jack agrees."

I turned to Jack, holding my breath. His jaw was tight, resentment clear in every line of his face. He didn’t like it but before he could speak, Marcus intervened.

"Jack," Marcus said with deliberate weight, "My father is considering a significant investment in Shaw Corp."

The message was clear. A warning, wrapped in velvet.

Jack hesitated, his mouth opening and closing once, twice. Then, through gritted teeth:

"Fine. I agree to the terms."

Relief washed through me like cool water.

I’d done it.

My position was safe, production was no longer my problem, and I was still in the game.

But I knew one thing with certainty Anna Shaw wasn’t finished.

And neither was I.

Anna’s POV

After everyone left, I turned to Marcus with a small, grateful smile. "I owe you dinner, at the very least. Are you free tonight?"

His gaze held mine, steady and unreadable. "I am."

Le Ciel was the sort of place that required booking months in advance, but the maître d’ nearly stumbled over himself when Marcus arrived. Within minutes, we were escorted to a private dining room overlooking Skyview City’s glittering skyline.

"Uncle Marcus," I began once we had ordered, my tone sincere, "I can’t thank you enough for today. Without your intervention, Shaw Corp and Simpson Group would’ve imploded."

He sat comfortably across from me, his presence calm but commanding every inch the man who didn’t need to raise his voice to dominate a room.

"You gave away too much," he said. "Two percent profit share? That’s not a small concession."

I shook my head, oddly at peace despite the numbers. "You actually helped me more than you realize. I was prepared to walk away from Phoenix altogether. But now the project lives on with fewer headaches." A rueful smile tugged at my lips.

"The data breach happened under Shaw Corp’s roof. Like it or not, we hold part of the blame. Simpson Group had every right to demand something. If someone’s deliberately targeting Phoenix, that extra share is a small price to pay to keep them close." I lifted my glass. "An expensive lesson... but one I won’t be repeating."

Marcus studied me, his gaze sharp. "You don’t feel cheated?"

I took a slow sip of wine before setting the glass down. "When I fall, I get up. I don’t waste time on self-pity." The past few weeks had burned away my illusions and left something harder in their place resolve. "This ordeal revealed a lot about the people around me. It cost me, sure but now I know who I’m really dealing with."

I raised my glass again. "To you, Uncle Marcus. I’m grateful."

He clinked his glass with mine. The wine was exquisite deep, rich, and smooth. I drank a little too eagerly, letting the warmth spread through me.

"Slow down," he said gently.

"I’m celebrating tonight," I replied, a rare lightness in my chest. "You and your father have done so much for us. I don’t know how to repay you."

Something shifted in Marcus’s expression then. "Actually... there is something you could help me with."

I blinked, curious and a little breathless. "If it’s within my power, I’ll do it."

A rare smile curved his lips, and I couldn’t help but stare. "Uncle Marcus... you’re smiling!"

His smile deepened, softening his usually severe features. "Am I so terrifying to you?"

"No! I’m not afraid of you," I laughed quickly, then added, "But Catherine is. She says no one dares contradict you."

He let out a warm, unexpected laugh deep and rich, sending a strange flutter through me.

"That’s only because I’m hardly home. They treat me with far too much caution."

We talked through the meal, the conversation easier than I’d imagined. By my third glass, I felt loose and happy. By the fifth, the world had softened around the edges.

At some point, Marcus suggested it was time to leave. After that darkness.

"Anna! Honestly, you’re going to ruin your liver!"

My mother’s voice sliced through my foggy brain like a blade. I groaned, cracking open one eye to see her standing over my bed, holding a steaming mug and a familiar look of disapproval. noveldrama

"Mom?" I croaked. "What time is it?"

"Nearly noon," she said, pressing the mug into my hands. "Drink this. Hangover soup."

I sat up slowly, accepting the bitter brew. "You scared me."

She perched beside me, her frown softening into concern. "You should take it easy. Drinking like that isn’t healthy."

"I was happy yesterday," I said, resting my head on her shoulder. "The Phoenix mess is over. Uncle Marcus saved everything. I took him to dinner to thank him and... might’ve gone overboard."

She stroked my hair gently, but I could feel tension in her hands.

"Annie," she said after a pause, "Marcus is family. Don’t you think his interest in you is... a bit much?"

I pulled back slightly, blinking at her. "Grandpa William asked him to mediate. And Uncle Marcus has always been kind. I wish I had more relatives like him."

She didn’t respond immediately. Then, in a voice touched with unease, she said, "Just be careful. Men like Marcus Murphy... they always have their reasons."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

She shook her head. "Nothing specific. Just a mother’s instinct." She stood, smoothing her skirt. "I’m off. Brunch with the girls."

Once she left, I lay back against the pillows, trying to recall the evening. The restaurant. The wine. Marcus’s smile... then nothing.

How did I get home?

I grabbed my phone and messaged Rachel. Her response was immediate: Mr. Murphy brought you home. Told the staff not to disturb you today. Said you needed rest.

I stared at the message. Marcus had personally taken care of me? The fearsome, untouchable Marcus Murphy had brought me home and protected my dignity?

I buried my face in the pillow, equal parts embarrassed and moved. I’d have to thank him formally.

By the time I went downstairs, my headache had dulled to a manageable throb. Mom was back and clearly upset.

"What’s wrong?" I asked, curling up across from her.

She exhaled sharply. "Mary. We fought again."

"What happened now?"

"She said that Sean that Sean is the reason you got into trouble with Jack. Is it true? And is he really from... a place like that?"

I froze, pulse quickening. So rumors had started. And Mom had heard.

Trouble was coming. Again.