Chapter 86 Did You Sleep with Evan?
"Forget it, I don't want to think about this anymore," Daphne said abruptly, standing. The idea of wasting more energy on such a drama was unappealing. "I'm heading back."
At the end of the day, all this would lead to was Charles suspecting her, questioning her. She was already blamed for so much, what was one more accusation?
To Charles, she was just a liar, nothing more.
"I'll drive you," Evan offered as he stood up.
"No need," Daphne declined. "You should probably check the hotel's security footage first, see if you can spot who delivered that letter."
Evan accepted her decision without further insistence.
Still, he escorted her to the hotel's entrance, hailed a rideshare for her, and watched as she got into the car before going back to his room.
Once inside his room, Evan grasped his cell phone and dialed out. Gone was the friendly boy-next-door demeanor he had around Daphne; his eyes emitted a dangerous glint as he ordered a full investigation. Being used was one thing, but he wouldn't tolerate Daphne—his Daffy—being toyed with time and again.
That was unacceptable.
Daphne, oblivious to all this, settled into the back seat of the car and closed her eyes to rest. She didn't notice a poised man, clearly favored by nature’s best, sitting behind the wheel of a Rolls-Royce in the parking lot, watching everything. He saw her leave the hotel and drive away.
The tension inside the car was thick, near freezing.
Austin, seated in the passenger seat, shot a complex look at the driver and patted his shoulder in an attempt to reassure him, “It's alright, it's not a big deal. Daisy's carrying someone else's child, and you don't hear me complaining, right?”
“Get out,” Charles's voice cut through the air like frost.
Austin blinked in disbelief, questioning if he’d heard correctly. As he opened his mouth to clarify, Charles’s icy tone rang out again, “Get out!”
“You're not seriously thinking of confronting Daphne, are you?” Concern wound its way into Austin's voice, knowing trouble when he saw it, but he still tried to advise his friend. “Don’t be rash; this might just be a big misunderstanding. If it is…”
“I said get out,” Charles’s glare was sharp, his patience stretched thin.
From the moment he'd received the incriminating photo and text message, he kept telling himself this was a misunderstanding, that he had wrongfully accused Daphne before and couldn't make that mistake again.
So he waited.
But what he hadn't anticipated was seeing her laughing and talking with Evan as they left the hotel.
“Just... be careful, okay?” Austin warned, sensing the anger. He threw out one more caution before leaving the car, “Talk it out, don’t lose your cool.”
Charles didn't even bother responding.
After Austin got out, Charles gunned the engine, heading towards Daphne's place. He was driving fast, quickly overtaking the rideshare Daphne was in.
An hour later.
Daphne returned to her home. Spotting Charles standing there, radiating chilliness, she paused, a flicker of understanding crossing her face. This was probably the fallout from the hotel incident.
Without a word to him, she unlocked her door with a fingerprint scan and walked in. This time, she didn't leave Charles out in the hallway; she knew he must have something important to discuss.
“So, did you have fun today?” Charles asked with a steady stare.
He had to admire her nerve.
To have a rendezvous and still face him without flinching—it would be a waste not to recruit such a poker face for undercover work.
Switching her shoes, Daphne stepped inside and remarked casually, "It's fine."
"Where have you been?" Inquiring, Charles swapped his own shoes and followed her in, shutting the door behind him.
Seated on the couch, Daphne felt a twinge of fatigue, "The hotel."
Charles' brow furrowed in question as he silently mouthed, "Hotel?"
The audacity she had to say that—so brazen, so forthright.
"You're here because you know I was with Evan in the same room, don't you?" Daphne broached the subject directly.
Impatient with the slow pace of a question-and-answer exchange she clarified, "Yes, I went to the hotel to see him. Someone snatched his phone, messaged me pretending to be him, saying he needed me to come over urgently."
As she explained, Daphne fetched her phone and displayed the chat for him to see, "I thought he was in danger, that's why I went."
Charles remained silent, his piercing gaze lingering on the nickname "Daffy."
A term of endearment, then?
"After I arrived, I realized it was a setup. Someone attacked me as soon as I opened the door, but I managed to fend them off," Daphne stated succinctly, "if necessary, I can get them to testify."
"Evan showed up because someone knocked on his door, handed him the key card to that room, along with a letter," she continued, "The letter claimed someone had kidnapped a girl and asked for his help. It turned out to be me."
Charles lifted his eyes, studying her calm demeanor that hadn't changed since she walked in.
He had a sudden urge to ask her: did she think he was a fool? Did she really expect him to buy such a flimsy excuse?
"Anything else you want to ask, go ahead," Daphne offered, handing over the reins of the conversation.
"You've really outdone yourselves," Charles responded icily, shadows swirling in his dark eyes, "coming up with a whole story to cover your tracks afterward."
Daphne, puzzled, asked, "What do you mean?"
"You've prepared your alibi well, with a candid confession that seems believable," Charles' gaze locked onto hers, not missing a flicker of expression, "but you forgot one crucial thing."
"And that is?" Daphne inquired instinctively.
"Did I ever mention that I was here concerning this matter?" Charles retorted posturing a trap, twice deceived in one day, did they think him so naive? "Isn't this an admission of guilt?"
The accusation nearly made Daphne burst into laughter.
Admission of guilt? Charles was consistently fond of jumping to conclusions.
"Daphne, you're smart, so is Evan," Charles's voice hardened at the thought of them together in one bed, "but there's a saying, 'too clever by half.'"
Coming up with excuses and voluntarily recounting the day's events certainly sounded convincing.
But if things were really as she claimed, that nothing had transpired between them, would such a straightforward person feel the need to explain herself to him?
He couldn't shake off the memory of how he had wronged her in the past, how dismissive he'd been when she tried to explain. And now? She simply recounted the facts in an unremarkable tone.
"What are you getting at, Daphne?" Charles's patience was wearing thin.
"Did you sleep with Evan?" An uncontrolled edge crept into Charles’s voice as his hands tightened involuntarily.
Daphne fell silent.
Just let it all crumble.
Taking a deep breath, she resolved to discuss the matter calmly once more. After all, if the roles were reversed, if she saw him with Kayla in one room, she'd have her suspicions.
She gave him a direct answer: "No."
"Can't you just be honest for once?" Charles's composure finally broke, a palpable tension emanating from him, "Do I need to put the photos of you two checking into the hotel room and him seeing you off in your car right in front of you before you'll tell the truth?"
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