Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

Chapter 244: Chapter 244: My Mother’s Name Is Yvonne Summers, Not Winter Mercer

"You... You’re messing with me on purpose?" Thea Sherwood glared at her, her resentment deepening.

A slight smile touched Ivy Sherwood’s lips. "I didn’t even know you were here. How could I have done it on purpose?"

Thea Sherwood was furious. She couldn’t believe she was losing to Ivy Sherwood.

’But Ivy’s method seems to work,’ she thought. ’Don’t state your objective right away. Just start a conversation first.’

’Looks like Mr. Carter is a lost cause. I’ll try someone else.’

’Those two men with Quentin Blackwood... they have such an extraordinary air about them. And they’re so handsome! They must be important people, too.’

When she saw them walking in her direction, Thea Sherwood’s heart skipped a beat.

She deliberately struck a pose, hoping to show off her stunning figure. ’They must be coming over because they saw me,’ she thought. ’Are they going to talk to me?’

Thea Sherwood was all ready, only to watch the two men walk right past her.

And from the looks of it, they were heading straight for Ivy Sherwood.

Thea Sherwood quickly strode over to block their path. Most men couldn’t resist a delicate, dainty girl, and Thea was wearing a princess dress with cute, doll-like makeup to match.

She put on a cutesy, high-pitched voice. "Hi, my name is Thea Sherwood. I’m Charlie Rhodes’s granddaughter. I was wondering what your names are? Can we get to know each other?"

"Excuse me, please step aside," Xavier Mercer said, his tone still polite.

But Thea Sherwood persisted. "I just want to chat for a moment. It’ll only take a little bit of your time."

This was exactly the kind of person Miles Mercer couldn’t stand. ’She looks like such a phony.’

’His big brother had always been like this, polite to a fault.’

But he was different. He was only polite to those who deserved it. "Do you have a frog in your throat or something? Can you stop with the fake voice? And who are you calling ’brother’? Did you not hear my brother, or are you just stupid? He said, step aside."

"You..." It was the first time Thea Sherwood had ever been treated like this. ’Who is this guy? How can he be so rude!’

But Miles and Xavier Mercer couldn’t be bothered with her and walked right past Thea.

Thea Sherwood could only watch as they approached Ivy Sherwood. ’Are they here for Ivy, too?’

"Miss Sherwood, do you have time for a drink?" Xavier Mercer asked, holding a glass of wine.

"Of course," Ivy Sherwood replied. She had just met them and still remembered their faces.

’I just wonder why they’re looking for me.’

"We met at the fashion show," Xavier Mercer began, still trying to confirm her identity. "The model on the runway... that was you, wasn’t it, Miss Sherwood?"

A flash of surprise crossed Ivy Sherwood’s eyes. She hadn’t expected them to recognize her.

Ivy now recalled that these two had indeed approached her backstage.

But Ivy didn’t want many people to know she had been at the fashion show, so she denied it. "I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong person. I’m not a model, and I don’t walk runways."

"Your eyes look very much like a relative of ours," he explained. "Her surname is Mercer. Winter Mercer. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of her, Miss Sherwood?"

Ivy had never heard of or met anyone with the surname Mercer.

’But Winter Mercer... that’s a beautiful name!’

She shook her head. "I’m sorry, I don’t know her. And please, just call me Ivy."

’Calling me Miss Sherwood sounds so formal and distant.’ Although she didn’t know who they were looking for, they had asked her about it before. It was clearly someone very important to them.

"Is your relative missing? Do you have a photo, or know her approximate age? Perhaps I could help you look for her."

The details about their aunt were not something they could easily share, and they didn’t have a photo of her with them.

Xavier Mercer shook his head. "I wonder, Ivy, if you have a photograph of your mother. Would you be willing to show it to us?"

"I do, but my mother’s name is Yvonne Summers, not Winter Mercer." Ivy could tell these two weren’t bad people, and they also knew Quentin Blackwood.

She did have photos of her mother on her phone, but they were very old. There were only a few pictures, showing her mother holding her when she was a little girl.

Ivy had looked at them so often she could picture every detail with her eyes closed.

Miles and Xavier Mercer studied the photo. Besides her eyes, the woman’s features were rather plain and unremarkable.

There was a slight resemblance to their aunt, but it definitely wasn’t her.

Xavier Mercer handed the phone back. "Thank you. Sorry to have bothered you."

"You’re welcome," Ivy said. "The person you’re looking for must be very important to you. I’m sure you’ll find her eventually."

Xavier Mercer nodded, but his expression was somber.

’Where on earth could she be?’ Now they were completely out of leads.

’Grandpa’s health is failing. He’s getting old, and he worries so much. I was at the hospital, and even in his sleep, I heard him calling her name. That’s why I dropped everything and came back, to try looking for her again.’

’Grandpa and Dad have been searching for so many years without any luck. It’s not like we’ll find her overnight.’

’I’m just afraid Grandpa can’t wait that long. Our aunt has always been his greatest source of heartache. If he passes away with this regret, it will become our regret, too.’

The conversation between Ivy and the Mercer Brothers was secretly overheard by someone standing not far away.

The man worked for Jason Summers, and he relayed their entire conversation to him.

’So those two brothers are also looking for Winter Mercer,’ Jason thought. ’And from their conversation, I can confirm that this Ivy Sherwood is not her daughter.’

’Back then, Winter just disappeared without a trace.’

’If Winter really did have a child... it’s possible it could be mine...’

Jason Summers’s eyes darkened, and his hand, hanging at his side, clenched into a tight fist. ’Why? Why did you leave me?’

...

Quentin Blackwood stood a short distance away, quietly watching Ivy meet new people and converse with them.

He didn’t even realize it himself, but his gaze never left Ivy.

’I thought that if she just came looking like her usual self, she wouldn’t attract so much attention. But so many people are still staring at her.’

’I can’t even imagine how many eyes would be on her if I hadn’t redone her makeup, if I’d let her come looking like she originally did.’

The very thought of it made Quentin’s stomach churn with discomfort.

Over there, Ivy was still talking with someone—the owner of a large company and his son.

The son’s eyes were glued to Ivy. His gaze darted first to her chest, then to her rear. He even shifted to stand slightly behind her, his hand twitching as if he wanted to secretly touch her. But he was afraid of being seen, his eyes nervously scanning the surroundings with obvious ill intent.

After a few words, Ivy noticed something was off. Her expression cooled. "Excuse me," she said, "my husband is over there. I should go join him."

But the man lunged forward, trying to grab her wrist.