Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

Elijah Hawthorne said, “This is my girlfriend, Vivi.”

“Hello.” Ivy Sherwood extended her hand.

The woman stared at Ivy Sherwood’s hand, making no move to take it. Her gaze was openly hostile.

‘This woman is gorgeous. Is she here to steal Elijah Hawthorne from me?’

‘She wasn’t even sure how she’d inexplicably become Mr. Hawthorne’s girlfriend, but right now, she felt impossibly noble—completely out of everyone else’s league.’

“Hello,” Vivi finally said, her tone cold.

Elijah Hawthorne frowned. He wanted someone with personality, not someone rude.

During the meal, however, Elijah Hawthorne deliberately placed food on Vivi’s plate, putting on a show of being a loving couple.

But Elijah Hawthorne found he had no real desire to go through with the act.

Vivi leaned in and planted a kiss on Elijah Hawthorne’s cheek. “Thank you, darling.”

It was a perfectly normal gesture for a couple, yet Elijah Hawthorne immediately set down his chopsticks.

“Get out.”

Vivi stared, confused.

“Darling, what’s wrong?”

Elijah Hawthorne said, “You’re dumped. Get lost!”

Vivi was stunned. She hadn’t even had time to process becoming Elijah Hawthorne’s girlfriend before she was unceremoniously dumped. It felt like a dream. Then, she glared at Ivy Sherwood.

Ivy Sherwood, sitting nearby, was at a loss for words. As the woman shot her a hateful glare, she wanted to protest, ‘This has nothing to do with me!’

‘Elijah Hawthorne certainly is decisive. Quick to get a girlfriend, and just as quick to break up with her.’

But then Elijah Hawthorne placed a hand on Ivy Sherwood’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go get a drink.”

“Why would we go drinking?”

“I just broke up. I’m heartbroken. Devastated. Shouldn’t I go drink myself into a stupor?”

Ivy Sherwood looked at him. ‘He doesn’t look sad at all,’ she thought. ‘If anything, he seems pretty happy about it.’

Still, she didn’t have any other plans, and she had already told Quentin Blackwood she was having dinner with Elijah Hawthorne. So, she went with him to a private club.

Ivy Sherwood, of course, didn’t drink alcohol. Elijah Hawthorne ordered her juice.

“So you’re really just going to leave it at that? With your girlfriend?”

“What’s there to worry about? I can just find another one.”

Ivy Sherwood was speechless.

‘If word of this got out, Elijah Hawthorne would definitely be labeled a total player.’

“Ivy Sherwood.” Elijah Hawthorne was sitting on the sofa, his long legs crossed. He watched her with an unreadable, complex expression.

He held a cigarette but hadn’t lit it, knowing Ivy couldn’t be around smoke.

“Hm? Want to play some cards?” Ivy Sherwood asked.

She could tell that Elijah Hawthorne seemed to be in a bad mood.

“Sure.” It had been a long time since Elijah Hawthorne had played.

Ivy Sherwood’s card-playing skills had become remarkably sharp. She knew never to reveal her hand too early—a lesson she had learned from both Quentin Blackwood and Elijah Hawthorne. No matter how bad her cards were, she had to put on a front, act like she had a winning hand, and make her opponents fear her.

After a couple of hands, a flash of admiration lit up Elijah Hawthorne’s eyes. “You really are the student I taught.”

“I’d call it natural talent!”

“How about we bet something?” Elijah Hawthorne mused, stroking his chin. Whenever he played cards, he couldn’t resist adding a little wager.

“Huh?” Ivy Sherwood looked at him. “I don’t have any money. I can’t afford to lose.”

“I don’t want money. Let’s make it something else. How about this: if you lose, you break up with Quentin Blackwood and become my girlfriend.”

Elijah Hawthorne picked up a cigar, held it under his nose to catch the scent, then placed it between his lips without lighting it.

“Stop joking, Mr. Hawthorne.”

“I’m not joking.” Elijah Hawthorne bit down on the tip of the cigar, the faintly bitter taste of tobacco filling his mouth.

Just then, the door to their private room swung open, and Quentin Blackwood strode in. “Mr. Hawthorne, you’re truly relentless when it comes to poaching, aren’t you?”

Seeing Quentin Blackwood, Elijah Hawthorne narrowed his eyes. “President Blackwood, showing up uninvited… you certainly have no sense of decorum.”

Quentin Blackwood retorted, “And is asking out another man’s girlfriend a sign of decorum?”

Elijah Hawthorne’s eyes narrowed into a smile. “And what of it?”

He gestured with his chin toward the cards on the table. “Care to play a few hands?”

“No,” Quentin Blackwood refused.

Ivy, however, was intrigued. She pushed Quentin Blackwood down into a seat. “Play!”

‘She found it a bit of a struggle to play against Elijah Hawthorne herself. She wanted to see which of these two titans was more skilled when they faced off.’

Since Ivy had spoken, Quentin Blackwood took a seat.

“What are the stakes?” Quentin Blackwood asked.

Ivy Sherwood had completely forgotten about a wager. Her earlier games with Elijah Hawthorne had just been for fun, with nothing on the line.

Ivy Sherwood said, “Gambling is illegal. Maybe we shouldn’t play.”

‘I shouldn’t have pushed Quentin to play.’

Elijah Hawthorne said, “Anything goes. If you lose, you let me be the president of DG for a day.”

“Deal,” Quentin Blackwood agreed.

Ivy Sherwood was baffled.

‘Are they really playing for such high stakes?’

She raised her hand like a student. “How about adding me to the bet? I’d like to be the president of DG for a day, too.”

‘She knew she had no chance of winning against these two titans, but you never know!’

Elijah Hawthorne said, “Great! We can team up today, knock him off his presidential throne, and then we’ll take turns. You get a day, I get a day.”

But Quentin Blackwood pulled Ivy Sherwood to his side. “You don’t need to bet. If you want to be president, I’ll let you have the seat anytime. Besides, being president isn’t as good as being the president’s wife.”

Elijah Hawthorne was speechless.

‘Someone just kick these two out!’

“And if you lose?”

Elijah Hawthorne said, “If I lose, I’ll let you be president of Hawthorne Group for a day.”

“Who’d want your Hawthorne Group?” Quentin scoffed. He then made his counteroffer: “That favor I owe you from last time? If I win, we’ll call it even.”

The favor Quentin mentioned was something Elijah had demanded in exchange for yielding a plot of land to him in a previous deal.

“Deal,” Elijah Hawthorne agreed without hesitation.

‘What favor? Why don’t I know anything about this?’

But the match between the two men had already begun, leaving Ivy no chance to ask.

Ivy Sherwood sat beside Quentin Blackwood, watching the cards in his hand.

In truth, Quentin Blackwood’s hand wasn’t good. If Ivy were holding it, she’d likely lose.

Ivy Sherwood felt even more anxious than Quentin Blackwood did. She quietly shuffled over to get a peek at Elijah Hawthorne’s cards.

‘Did Elijah Hawthorne save the planet in a past life or something? How else could he be so favored by the heavens at times like this? Quentin is going to lose.’

‘She couldn’t bear to watch the outcome. Maybe she should give Zane Linton a heads-up that DG was about to change hands.’

“I’m going to the restroom,” Ivy Sherwood said.

She couldn’t bear to watch Quentin Blackwood lose, because his luck with cards was just abysmal.

In this regard, Quentin Blackwood truly wasn’t favored by the heavens. It was just like his childhood—he had started the game of life on hell mode.

But what Quentin Blackwood did best was turn a losing hand around, one card at a time. It was just like his life—a life that should have been mired in mud, but one he had, by his own power, completely overturned, defying his fate.