Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

Chapter 77: Chapter 77: Quentin Blackwood: I Am Her Dad

Quentin Blackwood stood sideways, a gesture that shielded Ivy Sherwood.

"Is there something?" His voice was cold, clearly an invitation to leave.

"Since you’re busy, Third Brother, Silas and I will come back another time. We won’t disturb you."

Caleb Blackwood had indeed brought Silas Blackwood to apologize, and also to discuss the possibility of getting Quentin Blackwood to invest.

Unfortunately, it seemed he always came at the wrong time, always running into Quentin bringing a woman home.

Caleb Blackwood left with Silas Blackwood, who looked thoroughly displeased.

Once they were back in their own car, Silas finally dared to speak. "Dad, didn’t we just come here for nothing!"

"How was it for nothing? Didn’t you see Quentin Blackwood holding a woman?"

"I saw her."

He wasn’t blind. ’But what does that prove?’

"I told you last time that your uncle took a woman home. Back then, we had no information and couldn’t find out who she was. Didn’t you see just now? She was still wearing a school uniform. Go investigate. You must find out who that woman is!"

’To be Quentin Blackwood’s bed partner, she must have something special about her.’

’Pillow talk is a powerful thing. If I can find that woman, I can have her whisper a few good words in Quentin Blackwood’s ear for me.’

He had arranged for someone to tail him last time, but the Blackwood family’s driver had easily shaken them off.

This time, he was determined to find out!

"Dad, you see how much he plays around. How come you don’t say anything to him?"

"For all we know, this isn’t even the same woman as last time. Maybe he’s bringing home a different woman every day! And you won’t even approve of me having just one, Anna Nash!"

"Can you even compare yourself to your uncle? If you had his capabilities, I wouldn’t care how many women you brought home."

"Dad, where on earth did you lock Anna Nash up? Can you please let her out?"

Without Anna Nash these past few days, Silas Blackwood felt completely out of sorts.

He was in his prime, and his libido was quite strong.

Although Anna Nash was locked away, it didn’t have a major impact on Silas Blackwood’s social life. His buddies still called him out for drinks, and they still called over a bunch of women.

It was just that those other women always felt like they were missing something. They didn’t understand what he wanted. They were either too reserved or too wild, and fooling around with them just felt empty.

In comparison, Anna Nash was just better.

"Impossible! After you marry Ivy Sherwood, I might consider letting her out. But before you marry Ivy Sherwood, don’t even think about seeing her!"

He really didn’t know what kind of love potion that vixen had given Silas Blackwood. If she hadn’t ruined things, Ivy Sherwood would have married into the Blackwood Family long ago.

’And maybe,’ he thought, ’I would have already gotten that thing.’

Now that Ivy Sherwood’s marriage into the family was delayed, Caleb Blackwood was starting to get anxious.

"Dad, Ivy Sherwood and I won’t be happy together. Dad, can you really bear to watch me be miserable for the rest of my life?"

However, Caleb Blackwood’s rigid expression showed no hint of being moved. "A new mountain resort is about to open on the east side. In a couple of days, take Ivy Sherwood there for a visit. Cultivate your relationship. I’ll discuss it with the Sherwood Family and arrange for you two to get married directly."

"Dad!"

No matter what Silas Blackwood said, Caleb Blackwood’s mind was made up.

He had no desire to go to some stupid mountain resort, especially not with Ivy Sherwood!

...

The appearance of Caleb Blackwood and Silas Blackwood had no effect on Quentin Blackwood whatsoever.

Quentin Blackwood carried Ivy Sherwood back to her room and placed her on the bed.

She seemed to be asleep, her eyes shut tight. Her eyelashes were like two tiny, alluring brushes.

Probably from drinking too much, Ivy Sherwood’s cheeks had a rosy blush beneath their pale surface, like a ripe peach.

A strong smell of alcohol clung to her, but Quentin Blackwood only frowned slightly, showing no disgust.

He just wondered what she would be like tomorrow when she woke up and had to face him.

’She has no defenses at all. Does she not know how dangerous the outside world is?’

Although most of the people at that bar were students from Lustre U, and many girls went in their school uniforms...

...Ivy Sherwood’s face was another matter.

Quentin Blackwood’s breath caught in his throat. Looking at that face—a face that could topple kingdoms—it was impossible to forget after just one glance. No wonder Silas Blackwood was still so hung up on her.

If this were ancient times, any emperor who saw her would probably give up on holding his morning court.

Beyond her exquisitely beautiful face, the legs beneath her short skirt were fair and straight, her skin smooth and delicate. The lines of her slender legs were graceful. This version of Ivy Sherwood was the very picture of innocence.

But there’s no crime in being beautiful, and no crime in wearing a skirt.

Seeing Ivy Sherwood like this, a sudden desire for control surged within Quentin Blackwood.

’I want to hide her away, let no one else see her like this. Only I should be allowed to torment her, to grip her chin and make her kneel before me, to see this face streaked with beautiful tears...’

Just then, Ivy Sherwood’s phone rang, shattering all of Quentin Blackwood’s thoughts.

He was furious with himself for having such twisted thoughts. ’Ivy Sherwood’s appearance might be a deliberate attempt to use me. Yvonne Summers was one of the people who killed my mother. I absolutely cannot be bewitched by this side of Ivy Sherwood!’

After composing his thoughts, Quentin Blackwood picked up the phone and saw the caller ID: Driver.

It seemed this was the driver Ivy Sherwood had called. He answered it directly. A voice came from the other end: "Miss Sherwood, where are you? I’ve been looking for you here for a while but haven’t seen any sign of you."

He had other things to do today, so he was running late. He had sent Miss Sherwood a message to let her know, but she never replied.

Now that he was at the agreed-upon location, the driver had circled several times without spotting her.

Quentin Blackwood’s lips parted slightly. "There’s no need. She’s already home."

"She’s home? Then you are..."

Quentin Blackwood glanced at the sleeping woman. The word "uncle" rolled around in his throat, but what came out was a different title.

"Her father."

"Oh, okay. As long as Miss Sherwood is home, that’s all that matters."

Quentin Blackwood hung up. Recalling the call Ivy Sherwood had made to him earlier, he simply scanned the phone’s screen in front of her face, and the facial recognition unlocked it instantly.

Quentin Blackwood had no interest in the contents of Ivy Sherwood’s phone. He just opened the call log and saw the contact name she had saved for him: Death Exemption Token.

Heh.

Seeing this name, Quentin Blackwood didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ’So, to Ivy Sherwood, I’m just a token?’

Still, it was probably a one-of-a-kind nickname. Besides Ivy Sherwood, no one would dare save his contact under that name.

After deleting the record of her call to him, Quentin Blackwood placed the phone back beside Ivy Sherwood.

Quentin Blackwood called for a maid. "Take care of her."

"Sir, should we change her clothes?" the maid asked.

"No need."

Quentin Blackwood left the guest room, returned to his own, and took a shower, washing away every trace of Ivy Sherwood’s scent.

Two hours later, he finally emerged from the bathroom and went to his study to deal with his unfinished work.