Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

Chapter 116: Chapter 116: Ivy Sherwood Actually Pushed Him to Another Woman

"Who told you to come?" Quentin repeated himself.

The chill in his words made Cheryl Yates tremble. She opened her mouth, but dared not speak.

Only now did she feel that deathly, torturous pressure. A single glance from Quentin was enough to drain the soul from a person.

Cheryl Yates didn’t dare meet Quentin’s gaze. She took a step back. "It... It was Ivy Sherwood..."

"I told her I couldn’t get ahold of you, so Ivy offered to help and invite you out." Cheryl didn’t dare admit what she had done, so she pinned the blame on Ivy.

"Get out!" Quentin’s expression was thunderous.

’He had thought... it was Ivy...’

"Quentin, I truly love you. I’m Lustre’s top socialite! Look at me, just give me a second look, won’t you? Look at me and you’ll see how beautiful I am. Or tell me what type you like, and I can become that for you. I’ll do anything for you."

Cheryl Yates had never been so humble. She had always been the high and mighty heiress, a woman who wouldn’t even spare a glance for the men who stood before her.

The only man who had ever captured her heart was Quentin Blackwood.

"Did you not understand what I said yesterday?" Quentin’s face was glacial, his voice cold enough to turn a person to ice.

"I understood. But I still wanted to try. Ivy herself said I should be bold in pursuing you."

That’s what Ivy had said during the day—if you truly like someone, you should be open about it.

"She told you to pursue me?" Quentin bit out the words.

Quentin’s eyes narrowed, the menacing aura around him intensifying.

’This Ivy Sherwood... trying to push him onto another woman?’

’What does Ivy take him for!’

Fine.

Quentin laughed in fury.

"Yes, she’s the one who sent me. She even said she’d help me win you over."

"Cheryl Yates, if there’s a next time, I’ll turn Lustre’s top socialite into Lustre’s biggest joke. Try me if you don’t believe it!"

Quentin’s words were dripping with threat, and Cheryl knew he wasn’t bluffing.

The rumors were true: there were a thousand ways to die for those who crossed Quentin Blackwood.

"Why? When I asked you out, you said you were busy. But why does a single text from Ivy Sherwood bring you here? What right does she have? She’s just your nephew’s fiancée!"

His nephew’s fiancée.

’Right. Ivy is his nephew’s fiancée. He never should have come here just for a text message.’

He even carried a faint scent. If Ivy were here, she would have recognized it. The scent was called First Encounter.

It was the cologne she had given him.

"Get out!"

"That’s not what I meant, I just meant that Ivy—"

"Get out!" The man’s voice was like that of a rabid beast.

Cheryl Yates was terrified. She didn’t dare stay any longer, fleeing in a disheveled panic on her high heels.

...

Ivy Sherwood had just stepped out of the bathroom after a shower. Since there was no one to disturb her, she was wrapped in only a bath towel.

The hairdryer was over there. Ivy planned to dry her hair and then go to sleep.

She hadn’t gotten enough sleep the last two days, so she planned to turn in early tonight. In another two or three days, she would probably be able to leave this mountain resort.

Her long hair fell in large, natural waves, as lush and thick as seaweed.

Just as she finished blow-drying it, Ivy heard a frantic BANG BANG BANG at the door.

Her heart skipped a beat. ’It’s only eight o’clock, right? Who could it be?’

’Besides, no one should know I’m staying here. Even Silas Blackwood couldn’t find me.’

Ivy walked to the door and looked through the peephole. She saw the man standing outside: Quentin Blackwood.

’Quentin is wearing a suit this late at night? And his hair is perfectly styled, like he’s heading to an important date.’

’But I just showered... I’m only wearing a towel, and I just washed my face. This is my bare face, not the usual made-up Ivy.’

’I can’t open the door!’

’And I definitely can’t let Quentin see me like this.’

’It’s probably too late to pretend I’m not here. The lights are on, so he can see them from outside.’

Ivy decided to send Quentin a message, telling him it wasn’t a good time and asking if they could talk on the phone.

However, she had just taken out her phone, not even typing a single word, when the man outside lost his patience.

Quentin was the owner of this place. In his mind, Ivy was refusing to open the door because she had a guilty conscience. And his master key card could open any lock in the resort.

Quentin swiped his card, and the door clicked open.

Ivy hadn’t expected Quentin to be able to open her door. She had no time to hide. The moment he stepped inside, she slammed her hand on the light switch on the wall.

As Quentin opened the door, he caught a glimpse of Ivy’s figure. The next second, the room was plunged into darkness, lit only by the light from the hallway.

"Quentin? Why are you here? Is something wrong?" Ivy’s voice called out.

Her voice immediately gave away her position.

Ivy caught a faint, elegant scent—it seemed to be the cologne she had mixed for him. The next second, a large hand clamped around her neck.

Quentin slammed the door shut with one hand and shoved Ivy against it.

"Why did you do it?" Quentin’s voice was savage, his face inches from hers.

Even in the darkness, Ivy could feel his rage.

She was completely baffled. "What do you mean?"

’I haven’t done anything. I haven’t provoked Quentin, have I? The last time I saw him was at the restaurant, and I haven’t disturbed him privately since.’

’I know my boundaries. Even though we have a mutually beneficial arrangement, I never intended to meddle in his life or get anything from him.’

"Hah!" Quentin’s fingers tightened, and Ivy found it hard to breathe.

"Pushing me onto another woman... I should be asking you what you mean!"

’Ivy couldn’t understand at all. What does he mean, pushing him onto another woman?’

’Could he be talking about Cheryl Yates?’

"I didn’t do it. Cheryl did ask for your number, but I never gave it to her."

"Still playing dumb?"

Quentin’s fury genuinely frightened Ivy. She lowered her voice, a placating note creeping in. "Uncle, you’re so handsome, you have a great body, and you’re amazing in bed. Why would I ever push you onto another woman?"

Then, Ivy added, "So what’s this all about? Could it be... Uncle, that someone tricked you?"

"Tricked? Weren’t you the one who invited me to go stargazing at Jaspen Pavilion tonight?"

’If anyone was tricked, it was him—tricked by this little liar, Ivy. The message was definitely from her; he had irrefutable proof.’

"When?" Ivy herself was stunned. ’When did I ask Quentin to go stargazing?’

"Do you think I’d frame you?"

"Uncle, there must be some misunderstanding." When she called him "Uncle," her voice was soft and sweet, as if coated in honey.

Quentin’s Adam’s apple bobbed. Especially here in the dark, where he couldn’t see her face, the sound of her voice was amplified endlessly in his mind.

Quentin reached out, about to feel for the light switch. Hearing the movement beside her ear, Ivy immediately grabbed his hand. "Don’t. Don’t turn on the light."