<h4>Chapter 92: Shattered Loyalties</h4>


    Catherine’s POV


    Where the hell is Anna?


    My fingers drummed against the auction paddle I hadn’t yet needed to raise. The Skke District lot would be up soon-the crown jewel of today’s offerings. Without Anna here to lead our consortium’s bidding strategy, everything we’d worked for hung in jeopardy.


    I scanned the room again, my stomach clenching tighter with each passing minute. The Simpson faction sat four rows ahead, George’s silver head bent toward Jack’s in quiet conversation.


    "She should have been here an hour ago," I whispered to my assistant, wiping my damp palms against the silk of my dress. "Something’s wrong This isn’t like her at all."


    Samuel Griffin leaned toward me from the adjacent seat, his expression unusually grave. His eyes were fixed on the Simpsons, hard as flint.


    "Check the local news," he said, his voice barely audible above the auctioneer’s call for a starting bid on a downtownmercial space.


    "What?" I fumbled for my phone, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe properly.


    "Check it now," Samuel insisted, a muscle working in his jaw. "I just got a notification." He nodded toward the Simpsons. "I underestimated how far they’d go."


    My hands trembled as I pulled up the news app. The headline hit me like a physical blow: "Serious Traffic ident at Willow Street and Main Avenue Intersection. Multiple Injuries Reported."


    Ice flooded my veins. That intersection was directly on Anna’s route here.


    Jack’s POV


    I felt the vibration against my thigh before I heard it. Father shot me a warning nce as I pulled the phone from my pocket, his expression hardening when he saw me staring at the screen.


    "Put that away," he hissed, eyes locked on the auctioneer’s rhythmic movements at the front of the room.


    But I couldn’t tear my eyes from the news alert that had just popped up:


    "Serious ident at Willow Street and Main Avenue Intersection. White sedan destroyed in collision."


    The apanying photo showed a twisted wreck of metal I recognized instantly. That license te. That car model.


    _Anna’s car._ My heart plummeted to the pit of my stomach. A cold sweat broke out across my forehead as my eyes slowly dragged up to meet my father’s gaze.


    "Is this your doing?" The question escaped my lips in a hoarse whisper, my throat suddenly bone dry.


    Father’s expression didn’t change, but a muscle twitched in his jaw. "Focus.


    Skke District is about to be ours."


    Theplete absence of denial or even acknowledgment sent ice water through my veins. The father I thought I knew - stern but principled - had be a stranger before my eyes. The realization struck me with physical force, nearly knocking the air from my lungs.


    "Why would you do this?" I struggled to control my voice, aware of the curious nces from neighboring bidders.


    Father’s eyes remained fixed on the auction proceedings, his voice dropping to a cial whisper. "I told her it could be settled amicably if she’d cooperate with us. Or if she’d agreed to remarry you." His eyes flicked to me briefly, disappointment evident. "Since you couldn’t bring her back, I had to take matters into my own hands."


    Rage bubbled up inside me, bitter and scalding. "For a piece ofnd? Was it worth it?"


    "This isn’t the time." His tone cut like a de. "Anna Shaw won’t be making an appearance today. Get ready for our bid."


    The auction paddle felt impossibly heavy in my hand. I shoved it toward him, my decision crystallizing. "You do it. I’m going to check on Anna."


    "Sit down." Father’s voice was deadly quiet. "Walk out now, and you’re finished at Simpson Group."


    I froze, not from fear of losing my position, but from shock that he would threaten his own son so casually. The disappointment that washed over me was profound, a wave of disillusionment that left nothing but wreckage in its wake.


    "Do you have any idea what’s at stake today?" He leaned closer, teeth clenched. "You didn’t see how I’ve had to bow and scrape to your grandfather and uncle all these years." His expression shifted, almost pleading, though his eyes remained cold. "Son, she won’t die from this. I simply made sure she couldn’t attend the auction."


    He continued, his voice hardening once more. "If Simpson Group doesn’t secure Skke District today, we miss our chance. I refuse to let outsiders dictate who my son marries."


    The words cut deep. Years ago, William Murphy had pushed me to marry Anna. I’d resented him silently then, but now I only wished he’d pushed harder, shaken me awake to what I was losing. I’d missed so many opportunities already. Today, I wouldn’t make the same mistake.


    "Dad, he’s not an outsider. He’s my grandfather." I started to rise, but Pax Powell’s firm hand mped down on my shoulder.


    "Jack, listen to the chairman," Pax urged, his grip surprising in its strength. "Anna might be hurt, but she’ll survive."


    Before I could respond, the bidding for Skke District surpassed five hundred million. Father’s assistant had jumped the bid from three-eighty straight to five hundred. The room buzzed with excitement as several investors shook their heads and dropped out, leaving only three out-of-state development tycoons still in the running.


    No movement from Shaw Corp’s section. My heart sank, confirmation that Anna truly wasn’ting. Guilt wrapped around me like a physical weight, and I stopped struggling, though my mind was miles away.


    I looked up to find Samuel Griffin’s contemptuous gaze fixed on me.


    Catherine Murphy’s eyes burned with hatred as she shed me a dismissive gesture. Their silent usation was clear: This is who you really are. I couldn’t argue. I wasplicit through my silence.


    The bidding quickly surpassed six billion dors. Money had be abstract, just numbers on a screen, disconnected from reality. A profound emptiness settled over me.


    Suddenly, amotion erupted at the entrance. Several uniformed police officers strode purposefully toward us, their expressions grim and determined.


    My pulse spiked, fear and dread coiling in my stomach.


    The lead officer presented a document.


    "George and Jack Simpson? Someone has reported your connection to a serious traffic ident. You’ll need toe with us to assist with our investigation."


    Father’s pupils constricted with shock.


    "Ridiculous! What ident? You have no evidence. Who made these usations? Let them face me directly."


    "I did."


    That voice impossibly familiar came from behind us. I whirled around to see Anna Shaw standing in the doorwayRelief and shame collided within me with such force I felt physically dizzy.


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