Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

"Brother, your nephew is immature. Don’t stoop to his level," Caleb Blackwood said placatingly, terrified Quentin Blackwood would lose his temper.

"If you can’t even discipline your own son, Caleb, what will outsiders think of the Blackwood family? Perhaps I should find someone to teach him a proper lesson for you?" Quentin Blackwood’s voice was calm, betraying no anger or pleasure.

The moment he spoke, however, everyone’s heart tightened.

This was especially true for Caleb Blackwood. He knew his younger brother’s methods. He’d seen it since they were children—the man was a lunatic.

If Silas Blackwood fell into his hands, he’d be flayed alive, if not killed outright.

"You’re a busy man, Brother. We couldn’t possibly trouble you with such a small matter." Then Caleb Blackwood turned angrily to Silas Blackwood. "Get to the ancestral hall and kneel for three hours! And you can forget about dinner!"

"Dad!"

Silas Blackwood tried to say more, but Caleb Blackwood immediately signaled a nearby servant. "What are you waiting for? Escort the young master out!"

"This way, Brother." Caleb Blackwood all but offered to support him by the arm.

The Blackwood family was considered the wealthiest in Lustre. Caleb Blackwood was usually arrogant and looked down on everyone. Seeing him so deferential to one person, no one else dared to speak.

Ivy Sherwood walked at the very back, her eyes on the tall, imposing man. He was taller than anyone else there, and his entire aura was completely out of place.

Her intuition told her he was extremely dangerous.

The Blackwood family’s ancestral mansion was opulent and magnificent, built like a palace. Even the dining hall was adorned with a crystal chandelier.

Caleb Blackwood gave up the head of the table. Seated there, Quentin Blackwood looked like a master of life and death, his gaze so sharp no one dared to meet it.

Ivy Sherwood had originally wanted to find the most inconspicuous spot, but Quentin Blackwood’s gaze remained fixed on her, so Caleb Blackwood called her over directly.

"Ivy, come sit here in Silas’s place."

Silas Blackwood was the heir to the Blackwood family. Caleb Blackwood had originally wanted him to get more exposure in front of Quentin Blackwood, so he had arranged for him to sit at Quentin’s left. As a result, Ivy Sherwood ended up sitting right next to Quentin Blackwood.

She’d wanted to keep her distance, but now she was so close that if she just stretched her arm out a little, she could touch Quentin Blackwood.

Ivy Sherwood could only eat the dishes directly in front of her. Even so, she still accidentally brushed the back of Quentin Blackwood’s hand—twice!

Ivy Sherwood was on pins and needles, but thankfully, Quentin Blackwood didn’t make things difficult. The meal passed peacefully enough.

After dinner, Ivy Sherwood went to the restroom, while Quentin Blackwood was invited upstairs by Caleb Blackwood.

Meanwhile, Silas Blackwood’s sister, Sylvia Blackwood, stood next to Mrs. Blackwood, looking utterly displeased. She had been holding it in all evening.

"Mom, look at that Ivy Sherwood! Auntie King is swamped, and she doesn’t even lift a finger to help. Does she really think she’s some princess?"

Auntie King was the help who worked in the kitchen. Ivy hadn’t helped wash a single bowl. Who was she expecting to wait on her?

If their father hadn’t repeatedly warned them that nothing could go wrong at dinner tonight, she would have dealt with Ivy Sherwood at the table long ago.

Mrs. Blackwood was the mistress of the Blackwood household, after all. It would be even more humiliating if her daughter-in-law were to wash dishes.

She looked at the sandalwood box in the distance. "Sylvia, Ivy Sherwood is still an outsider. How can she accept such an expensive gift from your uncle? That gift should have been for your brother in the first place."

Sylvia Blackwood understood instantly. "Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll get it back for my brother!"

When Ivy Sherwood came out of the restroom, she didn’t see any sign of Quentin Blackwood. ’He must have left,’ she thought.

But over there, Silas Blackwood’s sister, Sylvia, was furtively rummaging through something.

"What are you doing? Is the Blackwood family raising a thief?" Ivy Sherwood said from behind her, seeing that Sylvia Blackwood had opened the scroll Quentin Blackwood had given her.

It was Master Archer’s most famous landscape painting, valued in the nine figures. It was so rare it was practically priceless.

Sylvia Blackwood jumped in fright. Since she’d been caught, she didn’t bother hiding it anymore.

"Who are you calling a thief!"

Ivy Sherwood met her gaze. "Am I wrong? You dare say you weren’t thinking about it?"

Sylvia Blackwood had indeed been very tempted and had wanted to quietly take it, but now that Ivy Sherwood had exposed her, she certainly wouldn’t admit it.

"Can’t I just look? This painting belongs to the Blackwood family anyway. Are you trying to keep it all for yourself?"

"Uncle said it was a greeting gift for me. I don’t recall him saying it was for the Blackwood family. Everyone present should have heard him. If your ears are faulty, you should get to a hospital."

"So what if Uncle gave it to you? You can give it to someone else. I’ve taken a liking to this painting." With that, Sylvia Blackwood prepared to roll it up and carry it away.

However, Ivy Sherwood grabbed her and took the box back. "You want it? Go ask Uncle to give you one."

With that said, Ivy Sherwood prepared to leave with the box. It was almost midnight; time to go home.

Seeing Mrs. Blackwood drinking tea nearby, Ivy Sherwood walked over. "Mrs. Blackwood, it’s getting very late. I should be heading back."

"Stay the night. A room has been prepared. You’ll be staying with Silas."

Mrs. Blackwood had a powerful presence of her own, possessing the typical cunning of a wealthy family’s matriarch.

This wasn’t a suggestion; it was a command.

"Thank you, Mrs. Blackwood, but my father is waiting for me at home."

"My mom told you to stay, what more do you want? Stop putting on an act! You’ve probably never stayed in such a nice place in your life. Letting you stay is us being polite, so don’t be ungrateful."

"Sylvia!" Mrs. Blackwood called out in a stern tone, but only after Sylvia had finished speaking her mind.

"Ivy, don’t mind Sylvia. I’ll have someone show you upstairs."

An idea seemed to strike Sylvia Blackwood, and a flash of triumph appeared in her eyes.

"Mom, I’ll take her."

Sylvia Blackwood led Ivy Sherwood upstairs. This was the Blackwood ancestral mansion. Even Silas rarely stayed here. Ivy had visited before, but this was her first time staying the night.

"I really don’t know why Dad is so insistent on you marrying my brother. You’re a far cry from Anna Nash. You’re so ugly, it’s embarrassing for my brother to even be seen with you!" Sylvia Blackwood complained.

Plenty of people had called her ugly; Sylvia Blackwood wasn’t the first. Ivy Sherwood didn’t care at all.

Besides, her current appearance was a deliberate disguise.

"If you dislike me so much, then convince your dad and your brother not to marry me. Otherwise, once I become your sister-in-law, your easy life will be over."

"You!" Sylvia Blackwood glared angrily at Ivy Sherwood.

’Just you wait. I’ll get you for this!’

’Heh, Dad said not to offend Uncle. Uncle’s status is so high that even Father has to be completely respectful. But what if Ivy offends Uncle? Then not only will Uncle blame her, but Dad will too.’

Sylvia Blackwood led Ivy Sherwood to a room. "This is your room for the night. Go on in."

This wasn’t her brother’s room. It was the room that had been prepared tonight for their uncle.

If Ivy went in, she would surely disturb their uncle. He would definitely be angry. Sylvia could already imagine the absolute firestorm that would follow.

Ivy had never been to this part of the mansion, so she didn’t know this wasn’t Silas Blackwood’s room. Out of politeness, she raised her hand to knock.

But Sylvia Blackwood threw the door open and shoved Ivy Sherwood inside.