Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

The room was pitch-dark, letting in no light.

On the large hotel bed, the man was like a long-dormant beast, ready to devour the delicacy before him until not even the bones remained. He paid no mind to whether or not this was the woman’s first time.

Ivy Sherwood simply couldn’t take it anymore and passed out.

She was jolted awake by the ringing of a cell phone. After silencing the call, Ivy Sherwood glanced at the time—it was already ten in the morning!

Today was the day of her engagement party.

Meanwhile, her fiancé had long since hooked up with her best friend, cheating on her repeatedly. He’d even gone so far as to call her the previous night, forcing her to listen in on them having sex.

In a fit of rage, Ivy Sherwood had gone to a club, found a handsome guy, and let herself go for one night.

She tried to climb out of bed, but the slightest movement made her gasp in pain. ’He was so rough last night,’ she thought. ’My whole body feels like it’s been dismantled.’

She had to get to the engagement party, or the Sherwoods would eat her alive!

Just as she finished dressing and prepared to make a run for it, a hand grabbed her wrist. The man in the bed had opened his eyes at some point.

"Thinking of leaving so soon?" The man’s voice was low and raspy.

His eyes were as sharp as a hawk’s, his features so perfect they seemed sculpted by a divine hand. Looking closer, she noticed a faint resemblance to her fiancé around the brow.

The corners of Ivy Sherwood’s lips curled. Pretending she didn’t recognize him, she took out her wallet, pulled out all the cash, and slapped it down on the nightstand.

"The service last night was excellent, handsome. Too bad I’m in a rush to get to my engagement party. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to request you next time!"

Quentin Blackwood chuckled coldly at the insult, betraying little anger.

He made a phone call, and his secretary, Zane Linton, quickly arrived with a fresh set of clothes.

After showering and changing into a suit, Quentin Blackwood exuded an air of noble indifference. His deep-set eyes held no trace of warmth.

Before he left, Quentin Blackwood picked up the stack of bills and slipped them into his pocket.

"Lord Quentin, your nephew’s engagement party with the Sherwood Family is about to start. Are we heading over now?"

"Mm."

"Young Master Grant and the others were wondering last night why you stood them up."

Quentin Blackwood didn’t answer, seemingly lost in thought.

He had just arrived in Lustre. Last night, friends he hadn’t seen in years dragged him out to a club, but he was intercepted by a drunk young woman who clung to him, sparking a wild night.

He was a man of immense self-control, and he didn’t even find her particularly attractive. Yet last night had been addicting. Once he’d had a taste, he couldn’t get enough.

The woman had a unique scent about her, one that was both relaxing and, he had to admit, unforgettable.

For Quentin Blackwood, who suffered from insomnia, last night had been a rare, deep sleep.

...

Ivy Sherwood hailed a cab on the side of the road and gave the driver the hotel’s name.

By the time she arrived at the engagement venue, it was nearly eleven o’clock, and the banquet hall was already bustling with guests.

Ivy Sherwood stepped into the dressing room, but before she could get her bearings, a hand flew toward her face. She caught the wrist mid-air.

"I have an engagement party to attend in a little while. Are you sure a makeup artist can do anything with a swollen face?" Ivy Sherwood stared coldly at the man who had tried to strike her.

It was her father, Timothy Sherwood.

His slap thwarted, Timothy Sherwood was already furious, and now he erupted.

"You won’t even answer your phone? Have you decided to rebel?! At least you knew enough to drag yourself back here. If anything goes wrong with the engagement today, you’ll have me to answer to!"

The most powerful family in Lustre was the Blackwood Family, whose assets were immeasurable. And that wasn’t even mentioning their son in Veridia, Quentin Blackwood, who was a towering figure on the world stage.

If the two families weren’t on such good terms, Ivy Sherwood would never have had the chance to marry into the Blackwood Family!

’He’d heard that Quentin Blackwood himself would be attending today’s engagement party. Both families had been preparing for ages, but now, with the ceremony about to start, neither the bride-to-be nor the groom had shown up.’

Ivy Sherwood looked at Timothy Sherwood coolly. "And has Silas Blackwood arrived?"

Silas Blackwood. Her fiancé.

Timothy Sherwood faltered. It was true, the groom hadn’t arrived yet. The Blackwoods had already sent people to find him. Silas Blackwood’s phone was off; it was highly likely he was trying to flee the engagement.

Ivy Sherwood laughed mockingly. "If Silas Blackwood doesn’t show up, am I supposed to get engaged all by myself?"

Timothy Sherwood’s expression darkened. "The Blackwoods are already looking for him. Now hurry up, get changed and put on your makeup!"

The makeup artist rushed to pull Ivy Sherwood toward the vanity. Knowing she couldn’t fight the marriage, Ivy stopped the artist and said, "I’ll do it myself."

’Her mother had told her when she was a child that being too beautiful could invite disaster. So, from a young age, Ivy Sherwood had always used makeup to disguise herself, making herself look plain and ordinary.’

’If the makeup artist were to work on her, they might discover her secret.’

Suddenly, a stir went through the crowd at the doorway. "Quickly, Quentin Blackwood has arrived!"

Hearing the name, Timothy Sherwood quickly dragged Ivy Sherwood out with him. "The Blackwood’s youngest uncle is here. You be on your best behavior!"

’Ivy Sherwood, of course, knew the name Quentin Blackwood. He was the illegitimate son the Blackwood Family had driven out all those years ago.’

’But now, that same illegitimate son had become a renowned figure, someone the Lustre branch of the Blackwood Family couldn’t even hope to curry favor with.’