Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

Ivy Sherwood followed Timothy Sherwood out and saw the man surrounded by a crowd.

Standing nearly six-foot-three, he was a conspicuous figure. His handsome features, however, were tinged with coldness and impatience.

Ivy didn’t join the commotion. She stood at a distance, looking at that familiar face.

’After all, we were intimate just last night. How could I forget so quickly?’

Unlike last night, when sweat slicked his cheeks, collarbones, chest, and abs as he moved with fierce, powerful force, the man now wore a tailored suit, his hair meticulously combed back. He looked cold and ascetic, like an unattainable emperor.

The string of dark Buddha Beads on his wrist, in particular, added to his air of detachment.

Seeing him again, her eyes held no surprise. After all, this was all premeditated.

Perhaps sensing Ivy’s gaze, the man furrowed his brow slightly and looked in her direction.

Their eyes met for only a fleeting second. His gaze was too sharp, as if it could see right through her.

Unable to bear it, Ivy quickly ducked into the crowd.

”Third Brother, it’s been too long! You must stay in Lustre for a while this time.” The current Blackwood Family Head—who was also Ivy Sherwood’s fiancé’s father—spoke with the utmost respect.

Quentin Blackwood just gave a cold ”hmph” and was then led to the VIP room.

The Sherwood Family was now desperate to get a word in, and Timothy Sherwood trailed along behind them.

”When does the ceremony start?” Quentin Blackwood glanced at the watch on his wrist.

To put it bluntly, his watch was worth enough to buy two apartments in Downtown Lustre.

Caleb Blackwood wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. ”I’m afraid we’ll have to wait a little longer.”

”Wait for what?”

Every word from Quentin Blackwood was concise, yet each one carried immense weight, like a small hammer tapping against the heart.

Caleb Blackwood had already sent many people to find Silas Blackwood, but no one could locate him. It was almost noon, and the groom still hadn’t arrived.

”We’re waiting for Silas Blackwood.” A clear, bright female voice cut in. ”He doesn’t want to marry me, so he ran off.”

Quentin Blackwood looked at Ivy Sherwood in the crowd. Her face couldn’t be called beautiful—it was common and unremarkable.

But when she spoke, she possessed an aura that was hard to ignore.

In truth, while the marriage contract was arranged in their childhood, it was Quentin Blackwood who had personally finalized it.

For Silas Blackwood to jilt her—wasn’t that a slap in Quentin Blackwood’s face?

Caleb Blackwood quickly explained, ”No, no, that’s not it. Silas just had something to do. He’ll be here soon.”

Ivy Sherwood watched all this coldly. ”You still haven’t found him, have you? Should I give you an address?”

With that, Ivy named an apartment building—the address of her supposed best friend.

Caleb Blackwood’s expression turned grim. He immediately sent people to bring Silas Blackwood back. Not long after, a debauched-looking Silas Blackwood appeared before them.

”You bastard! Get changed, now! The engagement party will continue!”

”Dad, I told you I won’t marry Ivy Sherwood! She’s so ugly, just looking at her disgusts me. If my friends found out I married such an ugly woman, they’d laugh their heads off! How could I ever face them again?”

Silas Blackwood’s gaze toward Ivy Sherwood was filled with disgust. ’It’s all this woman’s fault for constantly clinging to me.’

”Take the young master and get him changed! Tie him up if you have to! You’re going through with this engagement today whether you like it or not!”

No matter how much of a scene Silas Blackwood made, he couldn’t change Caleb Blackwood’s decision.

Ivy Sherwood was also rushed off to change. In the dressing room, the zipper on her gown seemed to be stuck. No matter how hard she pulled, it wouldn’t budge.

Just then, the door opened. Without looking to see who had come in, she simply turned her back, sweeping her hair aside to expose her fair neck.

”Could you help me with this?”

A large hand rested on her back, and with a firm tug, the stuck zipper slid up.

”Thank you,” Ivy Sherwood said, turning around. The moment she saw the man’s handsome face, her expression filled with panic.

’The man in the suit... shouldn’t he be out there soaking up the crowd’s flattery? How did he sneak in here without anyone noticing!’

”How did you get in here!”

”What do you think?”

The man advanced, his powerful aura so oppressive it was hard to breathe.

He reached out and grabbed Ivy Sherwood’s throat. ”You’ve got some nerve, daring to scheme against me!”

Ivy’s neck was slender; it seemed if he squeezed just a little harder, her life would end in his hands.

Last night, Quentin Blackwood hadn’t held back at all, leaving numerous marks on Ivy’s neck, all of which she had covered with a thick layer of foundation.

”You must be joking, Uncle. I only just found out myself that you’re Silas Blackwood’s uncle.” Ivy Sherwood’s eyes regained their composure as she looked right at Quentin Blackwood.

Her face was ordinary, but her eyes were exceptionally expressive.

”People who lie to my face tend to die horribly.” Quentin Blackwood’s grip tightened.

Ivy Sherwood struggled to breathe. The man was truly heartless.

Even though last night had been her own scheme, Ivy wouldn’t admit it now. She said, ”Silas Blackwood can fool around, so why must I save myself for him? He just crawled out of another woman’s bed today, and who even knows how many times he’s cheated.”

The hint of grievance in her voice made Quentin Blackwood’s grip loosen slightly.

It was no secret that Silas Blackwood fooled around. How could a rich playboy like him not? Quentin also knew that last night had been Ivy’s first time.

”I don’t care what you’re thinking. Your wedding to Silas Blackwood cannot be canceled.”

Ivy Sherwood blinked, a mocking smile playing on her lips. ”So, Uncle, you also know my wedding to your nephew can’t be canceled. In that case, aren’t you afraid of being discovered, sneaking here to find me behind everyone’s backs?”

By all rights, Ivy Sherwood and Quentin Blackwood shouldn’t have even known each other. Yet for the two of them to be alone in a room together before the engagement party, anyone who saw would inevitably get the wrong idea.

Averting his gaze from Ivy’s eyes, Quentin Blackwood warned coldly, ”I hope you’re smart enough to know what should and shouldn’t be said. Otherwise...”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but the murderous intent was palpable.

”But didn’t we just meet for the first time, Uncle? I don’t understand what you mean.” Ivy Sherwood tilted her head, cleverly making her position clear: she wouldn’t say a word.

Quentin Blackwood snorted coldly. ”Good. As long as you know.”

Releasing Ivy’s neck, Quentin strode to the dressing room door, ready to leave.

Before his hand could touch the doorknob, a voice came from outside. ”Ivy Sherwood, are you in there?”

”I have something to say to you. I’m coming in.” The person outside clearly had no intention of leaving.

If the door opened now, that person would undoubtedly see her and Quentin Blackwood inside together.