After Betrayal - I Married a Handsome Tycoon-Chapter 61: No Romantic Flair, Lacks Variety

Selling the house?

Moira Sloan, who was bending over to change her shoes, paused, her delicate brows furrowing.

A moment later, she returned to the sofa and started scrolling through her phone. Connor Quinn glanced at her, then turned to face the window as he continued his call.

"I’ve already borrowed from everyone I could. I’m not borrowing any more."

"The renovations on the new house aren’t finished yet."

"Yeah, I’m planning to move into the shop with Jade."

"I’ll be fine. I’m tough and used to hardship, but Verdi..."

Moira couldn’t quite make out what else Connor said. His voice dropped, and she could only catch bits and pieces. A strange sense of irritation began to well up inside her.

’Seriously? His life has come to this, so why won’t he take the Jennings family’s money?’

A little while later, Connor Quinn hung up and came back to the sofa. He sat down next to Moira Sloan and asked in a low voice, "Did you just go see a friend?"

Moira Sloan’s lips curled. "An old acquaintance."

’The kind of "old" that should have stayed buried but accidentally clawed its way out of the grave.’

"Mm," Connor said.

Connor Quinn was a man of few words. After that "Mm," he said nothing more.

Moira shot him a look before lowering her head and going back to her phone.

A few minutes later, Moira suddenly slammed her phone down on the sofa. She looked up and said, "Connor Quinn, are you dense?"

Connor, who had also been looking at his phone, glanced up at the sound of her voice. "What?"

Moira scoffed in exasperation. "You’re so broke you have to sell your house, so why won’t you take the Jennings Family’s money?"

Connor Quinn frowned. "If your dad gave you money, would you take it?"

At the mention of Derek Sloan, Moira’s lips pressed into a tight line.

That’s how people are. It’s easy to see things clearly when it’s happening to someone else.

But when it’s your own problem, it’s a completely different story.

Moira knew exactly what Connor was thinking.

Because deep down, they were the same kind of person.

Back then, Connor’s father had cut ties with the Jennings Family for the sake of his mother, and he later died in a car crash. For Connor, acknowledging his lineage was one thing, but accepting their charity was another entirely.

To put it bluntly, if he took the Jennings Family’s money, it would be an admission that his parents had been wrong.

Moira stared at him, unable to come up with a rebuttal. Finally, she found an opening to save face. "I wouldn’t have even acknowledged him in the first place."

Connor’s gaze dropped, a shadow passing through his eyes. "Sometimes, you have no choice."

Moira was left speechless.

Back in the bedroom, Moira flopped onto the bed and let out a laugh of self-exasperation.

’What was wrong with her today, acting out again and again?’

’Was it because they were both in the same boat?’

’Or because Connor had defended her at the Jennings estate?’

’Isn’t that what he was supposed to do?’

’If it weren’t for him, she never would have been at the Jennings estate in the first place.’

Having sorted that out in her mind, Moira buried her face in her pillow and nonchalantly went to take a nap.

「At the Jennings Estate.」

After the "appreciation session" earlier, Madam Jennings had a servant brew tea for Cassie Blanchett. She personally pushed a cup toward her and said, "Cecilia, Moira isn’t just a pretty face like you thought. She’s a good girl."

Cassie Blanchett lifted her teacup. Her breathing hitched as she recalled the earlier scene.

She had to admit, in that moment, Moira Sloan had been absolutely radiant.

She was a woman who seemed so languid and indolent, effortlessly bewitching with every move, someone who looked like she had no substance at all. And yet, she was more cultured and knowledgeable than anyone...

A woman like that... it wasn’t just men; even other women couldn’t help but admire her.

Moira was woken by a phone call. Still half-asleep, she fumbled for her phone on the nightstand and answered it. "Hello."

Just as she spoke, Shauna Duane’s stammering voice came from the other end. "Moira Sloan."

Moira rolled over, the hem of her dress riding up. "What’s wrong?"

Shauna sniffled on the other end of the line. "I think Connor is seeing another woman."

Shauna’s words sent a jolt through Moira, chasing away the last vestiges of sleep.

’This just proved it: people really shouldn’t spend too much time together.’

’Familiarity really does breed fondness, be it romantic or platonic.’

’And with fondness comes guilt.’

’And with guilt comes a guilty conscience.’

Take Moira, for example. Hearing Shauna’s words, she was overcome with guilt. She rolled onto her stomach, kicking her feet up in the air and twirling a strand of hair around her finger as she mumbled, "Really? I don’t think so."

"It’s true," Shauna said, her voice firm.

Moira blinked, telling a bold-faced lie. "I really doubt it. I mean, think about it. He’s so straight-laced and completely unromantic. Besides you, who else would even be interested in him?"

Shauna’s voice choked with sobs, on the verge of tears. "Moira Sloan, can you please ask him for me? I’ve been texting him, but he won’t reply, and I..."

Just as Shauna was speaking, the door to Moira’s bedroom was suddenly pushed open.

Hearing the sound, Moira’s heart leaped into her throat. Before the man who’d just entered could speak, she leaped off the bed, threw herself into his arms, and stood on her tiptoes to cover his mouth with her hand.

Shauna’s voice continued from the phone, "Moira Sloan, are you listening? I know you don’t think much of Connor, that you think he’s unromantic..."

Moira was speechless.

The next second, Connor’s large hand wrapped around her waist. His tall frame loomed over her as he leaned down and whispered in her ear, "You think I’m unromantic? You... think... I don’t have enough... variety?"