Upon hearing this, Frank''s expression darkened. The hand holding the teapot trembled uncontrobly, and tea sshed onto the table.


    "Don''t talk nonsense. I only have one son. If your mother heard you say that, she''d never forgive you."


    “There are plenty of things she won''t forgive me for. Today, with Ynda''s suicide attempt, didn''t she pin all the me on me?" Bet set down his cup and reached for the cigarette box and lighter on the table.


    Bet didn''t continue the previous topic, and Frank breathed a sigh of relief, changing the subject to Ynda.


    "You''ve been busy with work all these years, barely spending a few days a year with your mother. Ynda, on the other hand, has always been there for her, acting like a devoted daughter. Your mother genuinely loves her."


    "Whatever Vincent has done, it has nothing to do with Ynda. She''s innocent."


    "Innocent? Is she really innocent?" The lighter in Bet''s hand clicked, and smoke curled up from his long fingers.


    A cold smile touched his lips, the smoke blurring the sharp, cynical lines of his handsome face.


    "Anyone with a bit ofmon sense knows how difficult it is to find a suitable kidney donor. And Ynda has a rare blood type, making a match almost impossible. Yet, every time she needed a transnt, a suitable donor would miraculously appear.


    "How could there be so many coincidences in the world? Ynda isn''t stupid; she''s just been ying dumb. She has always known she''s been extending her own life at the cost of others''."


    "Flora and her unborn child who died so tragically-they were the innocent ones. Yvonne and the officers who sacrificed their lives investigating this case—they were the innocent ones."


    With that, Bet forcefully extinguished the half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray. The tips of his fingers, which had been holding the cigarette, turned a faint, pale white from the pressure.


    Frank looked at his son, momentarily speechless.


    The vast study fell into a tense silence.


    Then, Frank heaved a heavy sigh and waved his hand at Bet.


    "It''s gettingte. You should go home."


    Bet nodded and stood up. But


    Seet


    instead of leaving immediately, he walked over to a bookshelf


    and


    pulled out three rare editions.


    "I''m borrowing a few books. I''ll return them in a few days," Bet said, walking out with the books in hand.


    Frank, wearing his sses, saw the titles Bet was holding and felt a pang of anger. "I paid a fortune for those rare editions, put them back! You little brat, you say you''re borrowing them, but when have you ever returned anything you''ve borrowed from your old man?"


    But Bet acted as if he hadn''t heard a thing, leaving quickly without a backward nce.


    After leaving the Thompson estate, Bet drove back to his Cherry Apartment, arriving at ten o''clock at night.


    He pushed open the door to find the living room lights on, bright and warm.


    Yvonne was sitting on the sofa in a long dress. She had removed her makeup her shall face au


    fair and


    clean, her beautiful, fox-like eyes half-closed in azy manner.


    Bullet was lying at her feet, looking just asnguid, hisrge tail swayingzily.


    At the sound of the door opening, Bullet''s ears perked up. He quickly got up from the rug and trotted to the entrance.


    Seeing his master return, Bullet panted happily, wagging his tail and cing his front paws on Bet''s long legs.


    Bet patted his head, then changed his shoes and walked inside.