Bet''s tall frame loomed over her. He had intended to pull the covers over her,


    but Yvonne clearly misunderstood. She instinctively curled up, shrinking away from his touch in rm.


    Seeing this, Bet let out a humorlessugh.


    "If I really wanted to do something to you, do you think you could get away?"


    Yvonne''s body was still weak. Lying in bed, she felt a sense ofplete helplessness, like she was at his mercy.


    She turned her head to look at Bet and suddenly felt that the man before her had be aplete stranger.


    “Bet, this isn''t what you should be doing."


    "What should I be doing? You know me so well?" Bet asked, looking down at her.


    Yvonne was suddenly at a loss for words. A dull ache spread through her chest, so painful that she started to have trouble breathing again. Tears welled up in her eyes and began to fall, unstoppable.


    "Are you feeling unwell again? Should I call the doctor?" Bet''s cold demeanor vanished in an instant, his softer tone tinged with worry.


    “I don''t need you to do anything!” Yvonne snapped at him, but her voice was thick with sobs.


    "Then stop crying," Bet said, standing by the bed and watching her with narrowed eyes.


    Yvonne''s tear-filled eyes, like those of a fawn, red back at him, though her gaze held no real threat.


    “I''ve just been branded a homewrecker. Am I not even allowed to cry about it?"


    Bet was silent for a long moment before he finally said, "Stop crying. I''ll handle everything. I won''t let you be ndered."


    Yvonne was speechless.


    What on earth was he talking about? Did he even know what he was saying?


    Just as Yvonne was about to speak, the door to the room was pushed open.


    Ynda and Thomas walked in.


    Ynda, in her high heels, gracefully walked to Bet''s side and affectionately took his arm.


    “Bet, the guests are all outside looking for you. You need to go entertain them," Ynda said, then turned her attention to Yvonne, who was propped up in bed.


    "Ms. Jones, are you feeling better?


    We were poor hosts today. On


    behalf of Bet, I apologize,"


    Ynda said, her voice as gentl


    and beautiful as ever, but her posture was that of a hostess asserting her position.


    Yvonne looked down, her thick, darkshes hiding the emotion in her eyes, making


    it impossible to know what she was thinking.


    Thomas sat down on the edge of the bed, asking with concern if she was feeling unwell.


    Meanwhile, Ynda led Bet out of the room.


    It was Emma''s birthday party; as her son, he had to be present, at least for the cake cutting.


    After mingling with the guests for a while, Bet returned to the guest room area, only to see Oscar and Darcying out of Yvonne''s room.


    The three of them met in the hallway.


    Bet''s gazended on Darcy, instantly turning ice-cold.


    Seeing this, Oscar subtly shifted his body to shield Darcy.


    "Darcy already told me what happened. It was all a misunderstanding. He saw Ms Jones was unwell and wanted help, but Mr. Thompson


    misunderstood. I''ve already had him personally apologize to Ms. Jones..."


    Oscar spoke calmly, his tone impable.


    However, before he could finish, Bet had already kicked Darcy squarely in the chest.


    Caught off guard, Darcy was knocked to the ground.


    He stumbled as he tried to get up, but Bet pinned his arm to the floor with his


    foot.


    "This is the hand you touched her with, isn''t?" Bet said, looking down at him, then applied pressure. Darey heard the sharp crack of his own bone breaking, followed by a pained scream.


    “Bet, don''t go too far! The Rogers family is not to be trifled with!" Oscar''s face changed as he watched his brother get hurt.