Upon hearing the familiar voice, Bethany snapped her head up.
Connor stood at the doorway, resting against the frame with folded arms, his lips curved in a mocking smile as he regarded her.
A startled breath escaped Bethany. In a panic, she quickly grabbed a towel to cover herself, panic written all over her face. "Why are you here? Get out!"
Connor narrowed his eyes, his tone edged with sarcasm. "Shouldn't that question be mine? What exactly are you doing in my bathroom?"
What?
For a split second, Bethany froze. Her gaze darted around the room, and only then did she notice the shelves lined neatly with men's toiletries.
Her mind went completely empty.
This was actually his room?
Heat rushed to her face almost immediately, embarrassment spreading uncontrollably. "I'm sorry. I must have gone into the wrong room. I'll leave immediately."
Flustered, she apologized while clutching the towel against herself with one hand and hastily gathering her clothes with the other, rushing toward the exit.
But just as she passed him, Connor's hand shot out, gripping her wrist.
Looking down at her, he spoke in a cold, warning tone. "If you have any sense at all, stop playing these ridiculous tricks. And besides..."
His eyes drifted to the marks scattered across her neck and shoulder, a trace of disdain flickering in his gaze. "Do you honestly think I would be interested in you?"
The contempt in his voice cut into Bethany like a blade.
She was aware Connor had misunderstood, yet she found herself unable to offer any explanation.
She couldn't deny stepping into his room, nor could she deny what had happened with another man.
Her lashes trembled faintly, the bitterness choking her words before they could leave her lips.
"Leave." Connor released her without another glance.
Bethany didn't linger for even a second. She hurried out, almost as if escaping.
Connor's gaze followed her retreating figure, his expression turning distant and cold.
What a shameless woman.
He had only come upstairs to shower. Due to the irrational fear of germs, that earlier car ride with her had already made him uncomfortable enough.
His eyes flicked briefly toward the bathroom she had just used. A faint frown formed between his brows before he turned away, heading instead toward the guest bathroom.
Meanwhile, Bethany rushed into a guest room on the west side. Once inside, she shut the door behind her and washed herself again and again—three times in total—before finally changing into the fresh clothes left by the maid.
Standing there, drying her hair, she pulled out her phone and searched Connor's name.
What she found left her completely speechless.
Connor belonged to the Roberts lineage, the most dominant and affluent family in Aloridge.
Her pulse quickened instantly. So Connor was from the Roberts family. If that was true, he might actually have the power to help with Shirley's medical situation.
A knock came at the door. A maid's voice followed from outside. "Miss Nelson, are you ready? Mr. Roberts is waiting for you in the living room."
"Coming," Bethany replied immediately. She switched off the hairdryer, ran her fingers through her slightly tangled hair, and made her way downstairs.
Inside the living room, Connor was stretched out comfortably on the sofa, idly scrolling on a tablet. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, exposing the lines of his strong forearm.
Hearing footsteps approach, he lifted his head, his expression shifting ever so slightly.
Bethany entered wearing a long black dress, her damp curls resting loosely over her shoulders. Her face looked clean and soft now, and her bright eyes gave off an innocent, almost vulnerable charm that instinctively drew attention.
Even Connor found himself unable to tear his gaze away from her.
Yet the marks on her collarbone were too obvious to ignore.
His expression remained indifferent. He looked away, placed the tablet down, and slid two documents across the table toward her. "This is the prenuptial contract. Go through it."
Bethany lowered herself onto the sofa opposite him, skimmed the papers briefly, and signed without wasting a second.
If marrying Connor meant saving her mother, then she saw no reason to hesitate.
Her quick acceptance caused a subtle shift in Connor's gaze.
In the car earlier, she had seemed shocked, yet now she signed so easily without a single question.
Connor, however, had only agreed to this marriage because of his grandfather's arrangement. It would last just one year, and her decisiveness spared him unnecessary complications.
He gestured to his assistant, who stepped forward to collect the papers. "If everything is fine, we'll head to the courthouse in three days and finalize the marriage."
"Alright," Bethany responded, trying to contain her excitement, surprised at how smoothly everything was progressing.
Just as Connor stood to leave, Bethany hurriedly stopped him. "Um, can I ask you for a favor?" She spoke softly, her tone cautious and slightly flattering.
Connor paused and glanced at her. "What does clause three of the agreement state?"
Bethany stiffened.
Clause three clearly stated that neither party would interfere in the other's private affairs.
That meant she had no right to ask him for anything.
Still unwilling to back down, she tried again. "It's very important. It concerns my—"
"Your matters have nothing to do with me," he cut in coldly.
Her expression immediately collapsed, disappointment flooding her face.
Connor sneered. With nothing left to gain, she stopped pretending altogether. And that was quicker than he had expected.
Without another glance, he turned and left, his assistant quickly following behind, leaving Bethany sitting alone, silent and defeated.
She had even given up her marriage, yet it still wasn't enough?
Outside the villa, the assistant followed Connor into the car. After a brief hesitation, he spoke carefully. "Sir, Miss Nelson looked like she really had something urgent to say. Should I investigate it privately?"
Connor turned his head slightly, his gaze icy. "She's just a woman without restraint. Why concern yourself with her?"
They had already received information about Bethany.
She was engaged to a man named Gavin, yet he had spent last night with her half-sister. The fresh marks on Bethany's skin clearly had nothing to do with him.
There was only one explanation—she had been unfaithful.
"My apologies, sir," the assistant said quickly, lowering his head.
Connor let out a cold scoff. Then, as if remembering something, his expression shifted slightly. "Any news about the woman from last night?"