After Betrayal - I Married a Handsome Tycoon-Chapter 71: Not a Proper Person

Moira Sloan figured today was just not her day.

Otherwise, how could her luck be this bad?

An offhand joke, and it just had to be overheard by the person it was about.

If she denied it now, she’d just be fooling herself. But admitting it in this atmosphere was also unspeakably awkward.

Moira Sloan’s fingertips toyed with the bottle cap as she met Connor Quinn’s gaze. Her red lips curved into a smile. "What brand do you smoke, Master Quinn? It’s on me."

Connor Quinn’s gaze was intense. He just stared at her, not saying a word.

Seeing this, the shopkeeper, Mrs. Warren, thought Connor was angry. Feeling partly responsible for her loose tongue, she quickly jumped in to play peacemaker. "Quinn usually smokes Furongwang. Thirty yuan a pack."

As she spoke, Mrs. Warren shot Moira a meaningful look and nudged the payment QR code on the counter toward her.

Moira Sloan took the hint, smiling as she turned to pay.

Feeling a little awkward herself, Mrs. Warren grabbed a pack of gum and handed it to her.

Moira Sloan accepted it without ceremony. Among neighbors, small gestures like these were a part of social grace, the best way to bring people closer.

"Thanks, Mrs. Warren."

"There’s no need for that between us," Mrs. Warren said.

Moira Sloan leaned against the counter with a smile and said in a voice only the two of them could hear, "We’ll gossip more next time." 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

Mrs. Warren had been worried she was upset. Hearing this, her face broke into a wide grin, and she gave Moira a conspiratorial wink.

A few minutes later, Moira Sloan left. As Mrs. Warren handed the cigarettes to Connor, she put in a good word for Moira. "Boss Sloan may look delicate, but she’s not pretentious at all."

Connor Quinn grunted in acknowledgment, tapping a cigarette out of the pack and placing it between his lips. He reached into his pocket for a lighter, but then seemed to think of something and abruptly took the cigarette from his mouth, tucking it back into the pack.

Seeing this, Mrs. Warren thought he’d forgotten his lighter. She picked one up and offered it to him. "Quinn."

Connor Quinn’s voice was cool and detached. "No need, thanks."

Meanwhile, after returning to her shop, Moira Sloan resumed texting with Flora Rhodes.

Flora Rhodes was a huge gossip, and once she got started, she was relentless.

Tired of the inconvenience of texting, she decided to call Moira directly.

Moira Sloan answered the call, leaning back in her chair and examining her own nails—natural, bare, and pink.

"TSK, TSK, TSK. Guess who gave Rachel Yates all those bags?"

Moira Sloan chuckled. "You?"

"I’m being serious," Flora Rhodes said.

Moira Sloan adjusted her posture, leaning languidly to one side with the regal air of Her Imperial Highness. "I’m not exactly a serious person myself. How am I supposed to have a serious conversation with you?"

Flora’s gossipy heart was about to burst. Even though Moira wasn’t playing along, she couldn’t wait to spill the beans. "TSK," she clicked her tongue. "Shane Jennings."

Moira’s tone was calm, tinged with the playful amusement of a curious bystander. "Oh?"

Flora asked, "You’re not surprised at all?"

Moira said teasingly, "What’s there to be surprised about? It’s not like someone important in my life did something that crossed a moral line."

Flora Rhodes clicked her tongue twice, impressed by Moira’s composure. "But rumor has it nothing actually happened between them."

’Rumor has it?’

’How much is a rumor worth?’

’In this day and age, even cold, hard facts aren’t that credible.’

When Moira didn’t respond, Flora asked, "After something this big, do you think Cassie Blanchett will still believe Shane Jennings?"

A cryptic smile played on Moira’s lips. "Once suspicion takes root, guilt is already a foregone conclusion. Especially when there’s a bit of evidence to fan the flames. What do you think? Will she believe him?"

"What a miserable marriage," Flora said.

Moira let out a low laugh, full of mockery and contempt. After a moment, she said lightly, "By the way, isn’t there a competition next month? Is Rachel Yates participating?"

"She is," Flora replied.

"Mm-hmm," Moira hummed.

’Looks like that recording of mine will come in handy soon.’

At the same time, in the tattoo shop next door, Connor Quinn was sitting on a high stool, his back slightly hunched. He stared down at the pack of Furongwang in his hands, toying with it, his eyes dark and profound.

Standing a short distance away, Zachary Curran nudged the person next to him with his elbow. "Is that pack of Furongwang gold-plated or something?"

"Beats me."

"Connor’s been staring at it forever," Zachary said.

"Staring is an understatement. I tried to grab one just now, and the death glare Connor shot me almost killed me on the spot."

Hearing this, Zachary Curran suddenly straightened up. A light bulb went off in his head, and with a look of dawning realization, he walked over to Connor Quinn. He leaned down, about to ask something, when he saw the text Connor was typing: "Coming to your place tonight?"

The recipient: Moira.