Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

"President Blackwood, I was wrong! I’ll kowtow to you, I’ll kowtow!" The man began knocking his head on the floor.

The gun was right beside him. All he had to do was pick it up and he could shoot Quentin Blackwood.

But he didn’t dare. In the aftermath, his nerve was gone.

Quentin Blackwood said nothing more and strode out of the detention area.

The police officers over there came over and picked up the gun.

Zane Linton was still at his side. He knew that if the man had fired his gun in that moment, President Blackwood wouldn’t have dodged.

’President Blackwood must be under immense pressure. In that moment, he must have wanted a release.’

But President Blackwood also knew the man wouldn’t shoot, which meant he had to face everything that was coming. He had no chance to escape.

"President Blackwood, this is the file."

Zane Linton stepped forward and handed over some documents.

Zane was investigating, and so was the police department. At present, all evidence pointed to this shareholder; he had acted alone.

"Keep investigating." He needed to get to the bottom of it all.

As for the shareholder, he was suspected of murder and would likely never leave prison.

...

Zane Linton had already bought Quentin Blackwood a new phone, with a SIM card inside.

Standing at the entrance of the police station, Quentin Blackwood asked, "Got a smoke?"

Zane handed him a cigarette. White smoke billowed from his lips, blurring his features.

Holding the new phone, his hand unconsciously entered a number.

He missed Ivy Sherwood. But right now, he didn’t know how to face her.

It was Ivy’s number. He didn’t know when he’d memorized it, but his finger hesitated over the dial button.

Beside him, Zane Linton said, "President Blackwood, Miss Sherwood must be very worried about you. Why don’t you give her a call to let her know you’re safe?"

Quentin Blackwood smoked five cigarettes, but he still didn’t dial the number.

He lit one after another, as if only nicotine could briefly numb his nerves.

The sky was now light. Aethelgard’s winter carried a chill, but Quentin Blackwood’s finger finally touched the dial button. The call went through.

By this time, Ivy Sherwood was already out of bed. Hearing her phone ring, she saw an unfamiliar number.

Ivy answered it anyway. "Hello."

Hearing that one word, Quentin Blackwood’s breath hitched.

Ivy listened quietly, but there seemed to be no sound from the other end. "Hello? Wrong number? Or is the signal bad?" Ivy glanced at her phone. The caller location was... Aethelgard?

"Uncle?" she ventured.

For some reason, her intuition told her it was Quentin Blackwood on the line.

The name made Quentin’s hand tremble. He hadn’t noticed the cigarette had burned down to his fingers.

He flinched, shocked that Ivy knew it was him.

"It’s me."

Hearing his familiar voice, Ivy let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, as if a weight had finally been lifted from her chest.

She hadn’t slept well last night. After waking with a start, she had barely slept at all, eventually getting up to do some work. She was just about to make herself a coffee to stay awake.

"Did you change your number?" Ivy asked, her voice filled with a hint of joy and excitement.

"My phone broke last night," Quentin Blackwood’s voice was extremely hoarse.

Ivy said, "Did you pull another all-nighter without any rest?"

She could hear it in his voice—a profound exhaustion.

Her concerned tone made Quentin’s heart ache even more.

’Since when have my feelings for Ivy become so deep? Just the thought of her leaving me feels like being plunged into an icy abyss.’

He had once warned himself not to fall for her, but he had still forcibly dragged Ivy Sherwood into his world.

Countless entanglements, countless passionate and poignant moments...

"Why aren’t you talking?" Ivy could only hear his breathing. "If you’re tired, go get some rest. It’s okay if you don’t call me."

"Ivy," he said her name, his tone heavy.

The words were stuck in his throat, unable to come out.

"I have something to tell you."

Ivy said, "What a coincidence, I have something to tell you too. Do you want to go first, or should I?"

’If I tell Quentin I’m pregnant, will he be happy?’

’If he likes me, he should like this child, too, right?’

A long silence followed from the other end of the line.

Ivy didn’t know what was wrong. ’Maybe I should just go first.’

’Quentin will find out sooner or later.’

"I’m pre—"

Just as she began to speak, Quentin’s voice came from the other end at the same time. "Let’s end this."

"What?" Ivy’s words caught in her throat. Her bubble of excitement and elation was burst by a bucket of ice water, drenching her and leaving her feeling like a fool.

"Let’s end this," Quentin Blackwood repeated.

His mind was numb, but his heart felt like it was being sliced by a knife, over and over.

The sudden blow left Ivy reeling. "Are you serious?"

Quentin Blackwood wanted to end things with her?

"Yes."

"I don’t believe you! This must be a scam call, right? Scammers are so advanced these days. Besides voice changers, they can even synthesize AI faces. You think you can impersonate Quentin Blackwood with an unknown number? Do you take me for a fool who would believe you?"

With that, Ivy hung up the phone directly.

’That’s infuriating! I almost believed it!’

But for some reason, tears streamed uncontrollably from her eyes, and her heart pounded with panic. An immense dread washed over her.

She picked up her phone and dialed Quentin Blackwood’s number. It was still off.

Both his public and private numbers were off.

’Why has it been off for so long? Did something happen, or is his phone really broken? Did a scammer find out his phone was broken and call me specifically to trick me?’

’That "scammer" just now was so hesitant and couldn’t speak clearly. He must be a rookie with no experience.’

’My relationship with Quentin isn’t a secret. It’s plausible that scammers could call me.’

’But what would they gain by just calling to tell me it’s over?’

’I know! They must be trying to drive a wedge between us!’

’It’s probably Joy Sheridan’s doing again. That woman is capable of anything; she’s obsessed with Quentin and would do whatever it takes.’

’Zane said last night that Quentin was fine, so he must be fine.’

Ivy called Zane Linton. His phone rang, and he glanced at Quentin Blackwood. "President Blackwood, it’s Miss Sherwood."

Quentin Blackwood said nothing, so Zane didn’t dare to answer. The call eventually went to voicemail.

A thought suddenly occurred to Quentin. ’Ivy said she had something to tell me, too. What was it?’

Ivy didn’t know why Zane wasn’t answering his phone. She quickly typed out a text and sent it to Quentin’s new number: "Good morning, Uncle. You’ll never guess what just happened. I got a scam call! He used an unfamiliar number and mimicked your voice to tell me we’re over. He must take me for an idiot to think I’d fall for that."

"I’ve been learning from you for so long, he’s underestimating me if he thinks I can’t see through a little trick like that. I even have an anti-scam app, and it didn’t even warn me. Looks like the scammers are getting more sophisticated."

"Call me back when you see this. I’m worried about you."

After sending the message, Ivy still felt uneasy. Why was Quentin’s phone off, and why wasn’t Zane answering?

She immediately booked the next flight to Aethelgard. She had to see Quentin Blackwood!

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