Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

Chapter 188: Chapter 188: It Turns Out She Was Exposed to Quentin Blackwood So Early

"What?" Ivy Sherwood froze. ’Since when do I have someone I like?’

Quentin Blackwood said, "You mentioned it last night. You said you have someone you like."

Ivy Sherwood blinked. ’I said I had someone I liked last night?’

’Why don’t I remember that at all?’

’What did I say? I hope I didn’t let a name slip out, did I? Like Quentin’s or something?’

Ivy Sherwood didn’t have feelings for any man. The only one who could occupy her thoughts was him, the man right in front of her.

’Quentin is a genuinely good person. I just have to control myself. I can’t fall for him.’

"I-Is that so?" Ivy Sherwood lowered her head, her voice laced with guilt. "I was probably just drunk and spouting nonsense. I don’t have anyone I like, so of course... you’re the best, Uncle!"

"Hah. Such a suck-up."

"I’m not sucking up! I’m telling the truth! When I say you’re a good person, Uncle, I absolutely, one hundred percent mean it!"

Even though Quentin could be nasty and infuriating sometimes, he was still the best man she knew.

He had a sharp tongue, but his actions always spoke louder than his words.

She knew he had helped and protected her countless times.

’It’s just a shame I’m so powerless. Quentin is so strong; there’s nothing I can do to ever help him.’

"Thank you for your help, Uncle. If there’s ever anything you need from me, please don’t hesitate to ask."

Quentin Blackwood’s eyes darkened as he repeated her words, "Anything I need from you... All right."

As soon as Ivy heard him, she realized the implication, and her face instantly turned beet red.

’There was, it seemed, only one way Quentin could ever ’need’ her.’

’In... bed.’

Ivy had a delicate, fair complexion, and her blush now made her look like a ripe, dewy peach. The sight was utterly captivating.

Quentin stared at her. He couldn’t deny that Ivy was genuinely beautiful. No wonder even Silas Blackwood was so captivated by her.

And he was the only man in the world who knew Ivy’s secret. Not her father, not even Seth Scott. The thought put Quentin in a good mood.

Feeling Quentin’s gaze on her, Ivy suddenly thought of something.

’Ever since I came out after changing, Quentin hasn’t seemed the least bit surprised to see my face.’

Ivy voiced her logical suspicion. "Uncle, you knew all along, didn’t you?"

"Know what?"

"That Wendy Summers... is actually me."

"Oh, really? I just found out," Quentin said nonchalantly.

But his expression was so obviously fake that it only made Ivy more certain: he had known all along.

’And here I thought my disguise was perfect. When did he figure it out?’

’I barely ever met him looking like my real self. Could he really have figured it out just because he said my voice sounded familiar that one time?’

"Stop bluffing. You’re not surprised at all, which means you’ve known for a while. I just want to know when you found out."

Quentin looked into her bright eyes. "You really want to know?"

Ivy nodded. Then she heard Quentin say, "The first time you stayed at Norhaven, after you were drugged by Gabriel Walker."

"What?!" Ivy was completely floored.

’That was ages ago! Back then, Quentin and I barely even knew each other.’

’I thought he’d recognized me recently because of my voice, but it was that long ago!’

"How did you find out?" she asked. ’I remember waking up that day and everything seemed fine, didn’t it?’

Quentin explained casually, "You were drugged, so I put you in the bathtub. You were wearing makeup, and Julian Grant mentioned that it’s bad for a girl’s skin to sleep with it on, so I took it off for you."

Ivy: "..."

"But when I woke up the next day, there was clearly... clearly not much of a difference."

"That’s because I had someone bring makeup afterward and put it on your face for you."

Ivy: "..." ’Oh, I should really thank you for that.’

Ivy was truly speechless. She covered her face, unable to deal with the reality of the situation.

’Only now did she realize how stupid she must have looked to him. She’d told him her name was Wendy Summers, pretended she didn’t know him, and even gotten a new SIM card just to contact him.’

’She and Silas Blackwood were probably the same in Quentin’s eyes—a pair of idiots. The dumbest of the dumb.’

"What’s wrong?" Quentin asked, watching her.

’She’s not crying, is she?’

Ivy was, in fact, on the verge of tears over her own stupidity. She moved her hands away from her face. "It’s nothing... So that time in Aethelgard, when you came into my dressing room... you did it on purpose."

"You said all those things just to mess with me."

’And I actually thought he was like that with every woman.’

"Mhm. Since you were so committed to the act, I felt I had to play along."

Quentin’s lips quirked into a smirk. "A fine performance, Miss Sherwood."

Ivy: "..."

’Just stop talking.’

"So, only you and Nina know my secret, Uncle. I hope you won’t tell anyone else," Ivy pleaded.

Her words made it sound as if he were someone special.

Quentin’s tone was light, clearly pleased. "We’ll see. It depends on my mood."

"I know you won’t," Ivy said, completely certain.

"And why’s that? Don’t assume you know me so well."

Her eyes were bright, filled with a fiery conviction. "You just won’t. If you were going to tell, you would have done it long ago. Even though your last name is Blackwood, you’re not like the rest of the Blackwood Family. Maybe... we’re the same kind of person. We have that in common. My last name might be Sherwood, but I’m nothing like Timothy Sherwood or Thea Sherwood."

Ivy continued, a faint light seeming to radiate from her. "You can’t choose the family you’re born into, but you can choose your own future."

It wasn’t just Ivy’s appearance that was so captivating, so firmly holding Quentin’s gaze.

Beauty was just her shell. The stubborn, unyielding spirit within her, that willingness to fight against the world—that was a charm far more beautiful than her physical appearance.

But most people only saw the beautiful facade. They were deceived by the illusion she presented and overlooked the real Ivy.

"Mm," was all Quentin said.

Maybe she was right. Maybe they were the same kind of person.

...

Anna Nash, meanwhile, was gleefully waiting for the news of Ivy’s scandal to break online. But so much time had passed that she’d practically worn out her refresh button, yet there was still no news about Ivy Sherwood.

What was going on? Was her internet broken?

Anna refreshed again. Still nothing.

’They must have rushed over by now; the scene should be pure chaos,’ she thought. Yet, a sense of foreboding began to creep into her heart.

She had no choice but to call Silas Blackwood. His phone finally picked up. "Silas, where are you—"

"Young Master Blackwood fainted! He’s being rushed to the hospital now," said one of the reporters who had answered the phone.

Anna froze. "What?"

Anna rushed to the hospital. Inside the room, she saw Silas Blackwood, his face ashen.

He was already awake, staring blankly at the ceiling with lifeless eyes.

"Silas, what’s wrong? What happened?"

Anna was desperate to know what had happened. Why wasn’t there a single report online? This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

’Silas went there too. He should have seen Ivy in bed with someone else, right? So why is he the one who fainted? And why isn’t he hysterical now?’