CHAPTER 117: DEFENDING HER HONOR

Anna’s POV

I took her trembling hand in mine.

"We can’t leave yet. If we walk out now, everyone will believe you’re destroying their marriage." The party guests had already formed a circle of whispers and stares around us.

"It’s all lies!" Mom’s voice shook with indignation. "Mary Simpson is completely fabricating this. I’ve never...

Your father was my only love. How could I ever do something like that?"

The anguish in her eyes broke my heart. Dad had been gone seven years, but Mom still fell asleep clutching his photograph. Yet Samuel’s cryptic comment about George’s interest in my mother suddenly clicked into place.

"I believe you’re innocent," I assured her, gently dabbing her tears with a tissue. "That’s exactly why we need to stay and clear your name."

George approached us with practiced concern. "Anna, this is all a misunderstanding. Please tell your assistant to release my wife."

I met his gaze, letting the temperature of my voice drop below freezing. "T’ll have her released once Mrs. Simpson controls her temper and her mouth.

My Rachel doesn’t always know her own strength."

Turning to my mother, I urged, "Tell me what happened. I don’t want his version —I want yours." The surrounding whispers grew louder, but I ignored them. "You seemed upset when you came home last time. Did Mr. Simpson harass you?"

Mom’s face hardened. "I ran into Mr. Simpson at the charity gala last week.

He said... things."

"What things?" I kept my voice gentle.

"Mom, don’t be afraid. I know you only have eyes for Dad."

At the mention of my father, her eyes glistened with fresh tears. My throat constricted painfully.

"Mr. Simpson claimed he had feelings for me when we were young," she finally admitted. "Said he even asked Gregory-your grandfather-for permission to court me. But Gregory never mentioned this to me. I only knew Mr. Simpson through business meetings with your grandfather. We barely knew each other."

So Samuel was right. Grandfather had protected Mom from unwanted suitors.

"Then just now, I encountered Mr. Simpson again," Mom continued, her voice stronger now. "He brought up the same topic. We were arguing when Mary saw us and immediately started hurling accusations."

George stepped forward with a perfectly rehearsed expression of remorse. "I apologize, Mrs. Shaw.

Seeing you reminded me of Gregory, and I spoke too freely. I only wanted to apologize for my earlier behavior when Mary misunderstood the situation. I’m truly sorry for the inconvenience."

Mom’s disgust was palpable. "Then please treat me as a stranger in the future, Mr. Simpson. I believe our families have nothing further to discuss."

Watching my mother struggle to maintain her dignity made something dangerous stir inside me. I stepped forward, placing my body between her and the Simpsons.

"My mother is right. There’s nothing left to discuss between our families." My words emerged like shards of ice.

"Mr. and Mrs. Simpson, I suggest you show some self-respect. My mother was renowned for her beauty in her youth. She had countless admirers, yet she only ever loved my father. No other man could ever compare."

I directed my final words at Mary, making sure each syllable carried the weight of my threat. "Beautiful women being harassed by men is never the woman’s fault. And Mary-I suggest you control your tongue, unless you want someone to slap you in public."

"Rachel, release her," I commanded coldly, watching as Mary Simpson was finally freed from Rachel’s grip.

Though she no longer hurled insults, her eyes burned with enough hatred to incinerate both Elizabeth and me on the spot. I couldn’t care less about her glare as I gently took my mother’s arm, feeling the slight tension in her body.

"Let’s say goodbye to Harper and leave," I said softly to Elizabeth, wanting to remove her from this unpleasant situation.

Elizabeth hesitated, her brow furrowing with concern. "Wouldn’t it be impolite to leave so soon? People might think..." Her voice trailed off, clearly worried about Skyview City’s inevitable gossip.

I squeezed her hand reassuringly. "It doesn’t matter. Why stay somewhere that makes you unhappy? Let’s go home." My tone left no room for argument—I just wanted to get her away from here. Yet internally, I calculated that Mary Simpson was the real loser today-publicly restrained by my security and threatened by me.

How could her pride possibly recover?

Sure enough, Mary soon departed with Lucy in tow without saying goodbye to anyone, George following shortly after.

With those irritants gone, Elizabeth and I decided to stay, our mood considerably lightened.

During dinner, I noticed Elizabeth had relaxed somewhat. "That George Simpson is so rude, bothering you alwanys," I said.

She nodded, but I knew this wasn’t simple rudeness. During my entire marriage to Jack, George never mentioned any history with my mother. Why bring it up now? Unease settled in my heart like a cold stone.

Days later, Catherine confirmed my suspicions. "Mary threw a huge fit when they got home. She’s staying at Murphy Estate now."

My heart sank. Despite Elizabeth’s public explanation, rumors spread like wildfire through Skyview City’s elite circles.

"Elizabeth was George’s old flame..."

Elizabeth is intruding on George and Mary’s marriage..." "Like mother, like daughter-Shaw women set their sights on Simpson men..."

These vicious whispers wounded me deeply. I decided to protect Elizabeth from this cruelty. "Stay home from social events for a while," I told her, my voice gentle but firm.

Elizabeth seemed to understand without explanation. "I’d rather stay home anyway. Helping with the nursery sounds perfect." Her expression was calm, but I caught the hint of sadness in her eyes.

August 30th arrived—my twenty-fifth birthday. Due to my pregnancy, I kept the celebration small, inviting only my closest friends to Shaw Estate.

"Anna, happy birthday!" Catherine embraced me carefully, avoiding my protruding belly.

"Thanks, be careful," I laughed, looking around at my intimate gathering-Oscar Porter, Samuel Griffin, Nora Price, and my trusted colleagues Daniel Davis and Sean Smith. This simple celebration was exactly what I wanted.

After dinner, Lily approached with an uncomfortable expression. "Ms. Shaw, Mr. Porter is outside. He’s been waiting for quite some time."

Oscar cleared his throat. "Logan mentioned something this morning. I think he brought you a gift."

My chest tightened. Since rejecting Logan’s offer, I’d avoided him completely. After a moment’s consideration, I instructed Lily: "Please tell Mr. Porter to go home."

Oscar awkwardly rubbed his nose, saying nothing more, while Samuel teased, "Ms. Shaw really has a heart of stone."

I merely smiled in response, though internally I thought: _Perhaps, but some boundaries, once crossed, can never be restored._

Considering my condition, my friends departed early. After showering, I checked my phone to find a message from an unknown number:

[Happy Birthday.]

Among the many birthday wishes I’d received, this one from an unknown sender made my heart skip.

Instinctively, I knew it was from "3303," the man I’d blocked. His concise style was unmistakable.

As I debated responding, another message appeared:

[Tell Rachel to open the door.]