CHAPTER 135: THE WEIGHT SHE CARRIES

Anna’s POV

I was drifting into sleep when my phone’s shrill ring cut through the darkness. An unknown number flashed across the screen. Frowning, I declined the call and set the phone down. Moments later, it rang again— same number. With an irritated sigh, I answered.

"Hello, are you Mrs. Simpson? Your husband is very intoxicated, and we need someone to pick him up," a polite male voice spoke.

"Jack Simpson?" I asked, propping myself up on my elbow, a wave of annoyance washing over me.

Before the man could respond, Jack’s voice boomed through the speaker:

"ANNA SHAW, YOU HEARTLESS WOMAN!"

I jerked the phone away from my ear, his drunken bellowing so loud I could picture him swaying on his feet. In the background, Calvin or Luke-l couldn’t tell which—was trying to calm him down.

"Don’t bother asking me to pick him up," I told the server coolly. "I’ll text you the Simpson family address. Call some drivers to take all three drunk men there."

After hanging up, I shook my head.

_Me, pick up Jack Simpson? What a joke._ Ta have to be out of my mind.

Then I remembered-I’d blocked his number before. He must have used someone else’s phone this time.

Without hesitation, I blocked this number too, then turned over to sleep, one hand instinctively resting on my growing belly.

- - -

"Oh my God, your grandfather’s estate is absolutely gorgeous. No wonder it was preserved as a historical site with admission tickets. You must have spent a fortune—it looks completely rebuilt,"

Catherine exclaimed, spinning slowly to take in the grand foyer of Brown Manor.

"It practically was rebuilt. Mom and Grandma Margaret will move here for the summer in a few days. I’m just checking if anything’s still missing."

Catherine clicked her tongue in admiration. "Missing? Of course something’s missing-people! This place would feel creepy with too few people living in it. Tell Elizabeth TIl move in to keep her company. Save me a room with good lighting."

"Go pick one right now," I laughed.

We spent the next hour touring the estate.

Later, we rested in a lakeside gazebo where a gentle breeze carried the scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers. Catherine sighed contentedly, tilting her face toward the sun.

’This place is too perfect. Once this area is developed, Brown Manor will become the most expensive and beautiful estate in all of Skyview City."

I nodded absently, my thoughts drifting to Marcus Murphy and how his influence had already doubled Brown Manor’s value. The memory of our last encounter sent a peculiar ache through my chest, one I’d been trying to ignore.

"By the way," Catherine interrupted my reverie, "has Uncle Marcus contacted you recently?"

"No," I replied, my heart inexplicably speeding up. "Why would he?"

Catherine shrugged. "He hasn’t contacted us either. It’s strange-last year he came back frequently, and I finally felt like he was part of the Murphy family. But now... it’s been months without a word."

I remained silent, watching sunlight dance across the lake’s surface,

unwilling to examine why her words left me feeling hollow.

---

Our peaceful afternoon shattered when Rachel rushed toward us, my phone in her hand, her face tight with concern.

"Ms. Shaw, there’s an emergency at the construction site," she said, her voice clipped and professional despite the urgency.

"What happened?" Catherine asked before I could speak.

"A worker fell from the scaffolding onto an upright steel bar. It went straight through his abdomen." Rachel’s words came rapidly. "He’s been taken to the hospital, but his condition is unknown."

Catherine’s face drained of color, her hand flying to her mouth. I understood her fear—a death at the start of construction would be catastrophic for Paradise Valley Estates future.

"Where’s Daniel?" I asked, standing immediately.

"Still at the site. He suspects foul play and has called the police."

My brows knitted together. "No one went to the hospital with the worker?"

"Daniel sent Sean."

A decision crystallized in my mind.

"Call Sean. Tell him the worker cannot die-use every possible means.

Clayton, get the car. We’re going to the hospital."

At the hospital, we nearly collided with Sean rushing out, his clothes alarmingly bloodstained. Rachel caught his arm. "Where are you going? Ms. Shaw is here."

Sean turned, surprise flashing across his face. "Ms. Shaw, the worker’s in surgery. The blood bank is critically low, and the transport vehicle is stuck in traffic due to an accident. I was going to meet them."

I glanced at his leg, noticing the slight favoring of his weight. "Which hospital is the blood coming from? Rachel will go instead."

"What did the doctors say?" I asked, trying not to fixate on the dark stains covering his shirt. "Is his life in danger?"

Anna’s POV

"They’ve issued two critical condition notices," Sean said, wiping sweat from his forehead. "But they’re still trying." He hesitated, eyes dropping to my protruding belly. "Perhaps you shouldn’t go in. I can handle this.

What if you accidentally get hurt..."

I understood his concern, but as the person responsible for this project— and this man’s safety—I needed to see firsthand. Despite my advanced pregnancy, I moved determinedly toward the emergency room, my hand protectively curved around my twins.

The hospital corridor reeked of antiseptic and desperation. A burly man with red-rimmed eyes spotted Sean and immediately charged toward us. "You said you were getting the blood! Where the hell have you been?" His voice cracked with barely contained panic. "If my brother dies, I swear to God-"

"Lucian," Sean said calmly, "this is Anna Shaw."

Lucian Cox’s eyes narrowed as they swept over me, lingering on my rounded belly before returning to my face. "Who the hell are you? Some manager? You gonna write me a check and call it a day?"

I stepped forward, meeting his gaze directly. "Im Anna Shaw, CEO of Shaw Corp."

His mouth opened slightly, words momentarily failing him. I understood his surprise-most people didn’t expect the pregnant woman in comfortable flats to be the one signing their paychecks.

"Your brother is receiving the best care possible," I continued, keeping my voice steady. "I’ve instructed the hospital to spare no expense. I promise you, we’re doing everything humanly possible to save him."

Catherine smoothly stepped in beside me. "Shaw Corp will cover all medical expenses and provide compensation, regardless of how this happened."

Rachel touched my arm gently. "Ms. Shaw, perhaps you should wait in the car and have something to eat?"

"She’s not going anywhere!" Lucian’s head snapped up, suspicion flaring in his bloodshot eyes. "My brother’s still in surgery."

"I’ll stay right here," I assured him, carefully lowering myself into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs.

"Clayton, could you get some food for everyone? We might be here a while."

Clayton hesitated, his protective instincts visibly warring with my request.

"Go," I said firmly. "Sean and Rachel will stay with me."

As Clayton departed, Sean returned with several paper bags from a nearby deli. He’d changed his bloodstained shirt, I noticed with appreciation.

"I thought everyone might need something to eat," he explained, distributing sandwiches among the small group of construction workers gathered in the waiting area.

Catherine was scrolling through her phone, her expression darkening by the second. "Anna, look at this." She thrust the screen at me, displaying a gossip site with the blaring headline:

"CHAOS AT SHAW CORP

CONSTRUCTION SITE: WORKER

IMPALED, CEO NOWHERE TO BE FOUND."

’They’re saying you’ve abandoned your workers," Catherine hissed.

My jaw tightened. Marcus had warned me about potential sabotage, but I’d never expected it to take this form—a human sacrifice for the sake of negative publicity.

"Rachel," I said quietly, "contact hospital security. No reporters inside, no information about the surgery released. Complete lockdown."

Rachel nodded and stepped away to make calls.

I turned back to Lucian and the other workers. "I believe someone deliberately caused this accident."

Lucian’s eyebrows shot up. "You’re saying someone wanted my brother skewered like a kebab? Why?"

’To stop Paradise Valley Estates," I explained, resting a protective hand on my belly. "Some people are determined to see this project fail, no matter the cost."

"So my brother’s just collateral damage?" His voice rose dangerously.

"I’m not here to dodge responsibility,"

I said firmly. "But I need your cooperation to find out who’s really behind this."

He studied me for a long moment, eyes falling to my pregnant belly. "What do you want from us?’

"Regardless of how your brother’s surgery goes, I need you to keep this situation quiet for now. Just until we can investigate."

"You want us to keep our mouths shut?" Lucian scoffed. "So you can cover your ass?"

"So I can find who targeted your brother," I corrected sharply. "I swear to you, Lucius will receive the best care possible, and Shaw Corp will take full responsibility for his recovery. But if we go public now, whoever did this will get exactly what they want."

Lucian’s face softened slightly. "I don’t know, lady. That’s asking a lot."

I touched my stomach. "I understand your hesitation. I give you my word—l won’t abandon Lucius or any of you."

After what felt like an eternity, Lucian gave a reluctant nod.

Just then, a flustered-looking Inigo Holt-the project’s engineering manager-burst through the door.

"Ms. Shaw! I just heard—I was at dinner with the subcontractors when "Dinner?" The word sliced through the air like a blade. "While one of your

workers was being impaled, you were enjoying _dinner_? Did your phone suddenly stop working, or did you simply turn it off for your _important_ meal?"