After Betrayal - I Married a Handsome Tycoon-Chapter 104: No Room for Error

After hanging up with Flora Rhodes, Moira Sloan lingered in bed for a while longer before getting up to wash.

Her stomach didn’t hurt as much as it had last night.

But a dull, persistent ache remained.

According to Jean Hale, it was hereditary. Mrs. Hale had been the same way when she was young, as had her mother, Yvonne Tate.

Thinking of Yvonne Tate, the corner of Moira Sloan’s mouth twitched slightly. She couldn’t actually remember what Yvonne Tate looked like anymore, only a vague impression that she had been very gentle.

Of course, that could just be something she had made up herself.

After all, she had only been three years old when Yvonne Tate passed away.

The memories of a three-year-old are half real, half imagination.

Her thoughts drifted idly, but after washing her face, Moira promptly reined them in.

She had something important to do today and couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

Coming out of the bathroom, Moira Sloan sat on the edge of the bed and picked up her phone to make a call.

When the call connected, Moira Sloan spoke with a warm smile, "Mr. Reynolds, are you busy?"

As soon as she finished, a middle-aged man’s deep, steady voice came from the other end. "Not at all. You’re back in Atheria? Your aunt was just talking about you the other day."

Moira replied, "I am. Mr. Reynolds, there’s something I need your help with."

The man didn’t even ask what it was before agreeing instantly. "Alright, name it."

A warmth spread through Moira’s heart, and she didn’t stand on ceremony. "I need the surveillance footage from the third floor of The Continental Hotel, preferably from the last year."

’A shorter timeframe might not be convincing enough.’

The man asked, "When do you need it?"

Moira said, "Is it possible to get it before tonight?"

The man chuckled. "Don’t you have faith in your Uncle Reynolds? I’ll have it for you before two this afternoon."

Moira said, "Thank you, Mr. Reynolds."

"You, kiddo," he said, "still being so formal with me. I haven’t even given you a piece of my mind about what happened before. Something that huge happens, and you just leave without a word? What? You think your Uncle Reynolds is too old to help you anymore?"

Moira had expected he would bring this up. She didn’t make excuses, just smiled and said, "No, not at all. I was just tired back then and wanted to rest."

The man sighed. "Alright, I won’t press you for details. Your aunt already warned me not to add to your worries. I just want to tell you..."

His voice suddenly choked up. He took about half a minute to compose himself before continuing, "You’re not alone, and you’re not without support. If something’s wrong, you can talk to me and your aunt. Don’t be like..." 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

He didn’t finish, his voice catching in his throat again.

Listening to him, Moira’s heart grew heavy. "Mr. Reynolds, I know what you want to say. Don’t worry, I won’t."

The man just hummed in acknowledgment.

The man’s full name was Henry Reynolds. Moira Sloan’s connection to him was through his daughter.

It was a long story, but to make it short:

Henry Reynolds’s daughter had been a streamer who lived in the same residential complex as Moira. Driven to depression by cyberbullying, she had jumped from her building, completely naked, on the day of her death.

Moira happened to be coming home from work that day and saw it happen. She stepped out from the crowd of gawking onlookers, took off her own short-sleeved shirt, and covered the girl’s body.

It was summer then, and Moira had been wearing a white short-sleeved shirt and a pair of slim-fit jeans.

Once the shirt was off, she was left in just a black tube top.

To be honest, it was an outfit that wasn’t quite accepted by conventional standards.

The moment she took off her shirt, quite a few men in the crowd started whistling lewdly.

They had ignored the girl who had been cyberbullied to death, yet were ’overflowing with enthusiasm’ for her.

That day, Moira stood up, glared coldly at the jeering crowd, and said just one thing, "Haven’t you ever seen a woman before? Go home and look at your own mother."

The words were crude.

But the person had class.

Because of this, after they had handled Winter Reynolds’s funeral arrangements, Henry Reynolds and his wife personally came to thank her. They said she had given Winter the last shred of dignity she had in this world.

After that, through back-and-forth contact, they became connected.

After hanging up with Henry Reynolds, Moira Sloan zoned out for a moment before leaving the hotel to buy a new laptop.

By the time she returned with the laptop, Mr. Reynolds, working with impressive speed, had already sent her the video from the third floor of The Continental Hotel.

Seeing the video file, Moira texted Henry Reynolds to thank him.

Henry Reynolds: Don’t carry your burdens alone. Tell me and your aunt.

Moira Sloan: I’m sorry to make you and your aunt worry about me.

Henry Reynolds: We’re happy to.

Seeing Henry Reynolds’s message, Moira Sloan pressed her lips together, her heart filled with warmth.

Next, Moira opened the video files Henry Reynolds had sent. She went through them one by one, editing together a clip of the moment when Rachel Yates and Shane Jennings appeared at the door of Room 327 at the same time.

If she wanted to clear her name and ensure Rachel Yates could never recover, she had to be perfectly prepared.

Revenge was something that required a single, decisive blow. Otherwise, if you don’t stamp out the fire completely, it will just flare up again.

By the time Moira finished all the editing, it was already ten at night. Connor Quinn still hadn’t returned, leaving her alone in the massive room. She reached for her phone, which had been tossed aside, to check the time and saw an unread message on the screen.

She swiped her finger across the screen to open it. Her eyes narrowed when she saw the message.

Rachel Yates: Moira, you’re back in Atheria?