Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

Chapter 176: Chapter 176: Quentin Blackwood Asks Her: Does It Feel Good?

"Uncle Blackwood, if my mother could see all this, she would want me to marry a man who loves me with all his heart. At the very least, not someone who’s constantly with other women, a serial cheater."

"Besides, I’m doing just fine on my own. I’m an adult and don’t need anyone to take care of me. An arranged childhood engagement like this isn’t legally binding, you know."

Just as Caleb Blackwood was about to say something, another voice cut in, "Things are certainly lively at my eldest brother’s home."

Everyone’s head snapped in his direction, just in time to see an intimidating man walk in from outside.

Ivy Sherwood, in particular, felt her heart clench. ’Why is his uncle showing up to stir the pot now?’

Upon seeing Quentin Blackwood, Caleb Blackwood’s expression soured even more. ’His third brother is here at a time like this... is he here to laugh at my expense?’

"Third Brother, what brings you here? No one even announced you. Isn’t that a bit inappropriate?" Caleb Blackwood was referring to how Quentin had just walked in unannounced.

And the servants—are they all just for show?

Quentin Blackwood walked in, his powerful presence completely at odds with the room.

"What are you saying, Eldest Brother? When all is said and done, I have a stake in the Blackwood family, don’t I? Do I need to be announced when I return to my own home?"

Quentin Blackwood’s eyes narrowed, and Caleb Blackwood felt an immense pressure wash over him.

After fighting in the business world for so many years, he had seen all kinds of people, but only Quentin Blackwood possessed an aura so powerful that even he couldn’t withstand it.

Besides, what did Quentin mean by that? Was he planning to fight him for the Blackwood family?

"Of course, that’s not what I meant. It’s just that I’m in the middle of some family matters and was afraid I couldn’t be a proper host to you, Third Brother."

"No matter." Quentin Blackwood sat down directly in a nearby chair, crossing his long, slender legs. He exuded an air of noble indifference.

His dress slacks hugged his legs, and his high-end, custom-made leather shoes were spotless. He was the epitome of cold and cool.

Silas Blackwood was still kneeling on the floor, and everyone else was standing. Only Quentin sat, looking as if he were the true master of the house.

He lifted his gaze slightly, as if looking down upon all of creation.

"Don’t mind me," he said. "Please, continue."

With Quentin Blackwood there, Caleb Blackwood was suddenly at a loss for words.

Doing his best to ignore Quentin, he turned to Ivy Sherwood. "Ivy, my dear, your uncle understands everything you’re saying. Silas is still immature; he just needs someone to keep him in line. But in this world, how many men can truly control themselves? Can you just give Silas one more chance?"

"Besides, the venue for your wedding with Silas is all set, and the invitations have all been sent out. It’s not a good time to call off the wedding. Our Blackwood family has a reputation to uphold. Ivy, you’re a good girl. Can’t you also think about the Blackwood family’s position?"

The moment Caleb Blackwood finished speaking, a sneer echoed from the side.

Caleb Blackwood looked at Quentin Blackwood, whose eyes were filled with mockery.

"Third Brother, what is the meaning of this?"

"Eldest Brother, you truly live up to your title. You have such a way with words. You don’t say a single thing about Silas Blackwood’s wrongdoings, and instead, you try to guilt-trip someone else. No wonder Silas is so clueless all the time—turns out he had no proper upbringing. Coming here today has truly been an eye-opener for me."

An inexplicable chill rose from the depths of his inscrutable, pool-like eyes.

Caleb Blackwood’s face fell. "I never said Silas wasn’t in the wrong. It’s true that Silas has wronged Ivy. I’ve already disciplined him according to family rules, and he knows he was wrong. He will publicly apologize to Ivy."

"Family rules? So just because you say you’ve disciplined him, that means he’s been disciplined?" Quentin Blackwood’s gaze shifted to Ivy Sherwood. "Did you see it?"

Ivy Sherwood shook her head.

Mrs. Blackwood, standing nearby, piped up, "Quentin Blackwood, what are you trying to imply? My son has already been beaten this badly! The stick broke from the force of it!"

Quentin Blackwood tilted his head slightly. Zane Linton, standing behind him, stepped forward and picked up the broken stick from the floor.

The stick wasn’t very thick. Zane Linton snapped it in two with his bare hands.

Quentin spoke, his voice even. "It seems this stick of yours was of poor quality, Eldest Brother. Coincidentally, I brought you a gift."

As he spoke, one of his men brought it forward. It was a whip.

"Scottish cowhide. I guarantee this one won’t break." Quentin’s tone was light and breezy, but his eyes were ice-cold.

Caleb Blackwood took the whip, knowing exactly what Quentin meant.

Caleb Blackwood had always detested this younger brother of his, who was twenty years his junior. He believed that when Quentin joined the Blackwood family as a child, it was solely to get a piece of the family fortune. His sharp gaze, like that of a wolf pup that hadn’t learned restraint, was fierce and ruthless. Even as a child, he had been terrifying.

Shortly after Quentin had first returned to the Blackwood family, Caleb had wanted to drive his younger brother out, so he had indulged Silas in everything he did.

Back then, Silas had framed Quentin on numerous occasions. One time, Silas lured Quentin into the study, which was their father’s sanctuary—a place even Caleb couldn’t enter at will.

After Quentin went inside, Caleb deliberately leaked some of the company’s confidential information and framed Quentin for it. Their father beat Quentin with the family whip until his skin split and his flesh was torn.

At the time, Quentin had insisted he was innocent, but Caleb stood by and pointed out that only Quentin had entered the study. Their father, thinking Quentin was just being stubborn, nearly beat him to death.

Now, it seemed this matter wouldn’t be settled unless Silas suffered another beating.

"Quentin Blackwood, how the hell have I offended you?"

Silas Blackwood’s face was pale. He knew his father hadn’t hit him that hard earlier; he could still take it.

But this whip was completely different from the stick. The thinner the instrument, the more it hurt. A stick just left bruises, but a whip could actually break the skin.

Silas started yelling, "I haven’t stolen anything from you, and I haven’t stolen your wife! Why are you doing this? You’re a twisted psycho!"

The words "stolen your wife" made Ivy Sherwood’s heart leap, and she instinctively glanced at Quentin Blackwood.

But Quentin wasn’t looking at her, and she quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

"Shut up!"

Caleb Blackwood gripped the whip and viciously lashed out at Silas’s body.

"AH!" Silas screamed, the pain nearly bringing him to tears.

But Quentin’s gaze remained utterly indifferent, as if the bloodcurdling scream and the entire scene before him had nothing to do with him.

Ivy Sherwood listened to the sound, then looked over at Quentin.

At that moment, Quentin raised his eyes, and his gaze met Ivy’s.

Their eyes met in a silent exchange. Everyone else’s attention was fixed on Silas, so no one noticed Quentin and Ivy.

Quentin’s lips moved, and his Adam’s apple bobbed slightly.

He didn’t make a sound, but Ivy Sherwood knew instantly what he was saying.

He was asking, ’Satisfying?’

Something stirred in Ivy’s heart, like a delicate hook snagging the softest spot deep inside her.

Her heavy heart suddenly felt lighter, and her dark eyes instantly shone brighter than all the stars in the sky.

Watching Silas Blackwood get beaten was, in fact, quite satisfying.

At the very least, he’d be bedridden for a good two weeks this time.