hapter 62
Ryan paused for a moment, thinking it over. “Depends on how you behave.”
Cassandra frowned. “What?”
“Well, what if Annabelle’s baby isn’t Cameron’s? You’d better not start reconsidering things.”
She dismissed the idea at once. “That’s impossible. The issues between Cameron and me go far beyond Annabelle. It’s just…”
Suddenly, something struck her. Wasn’t it Ryan who’d snapped that photo of her and Javier leaving the hotel? She was starting to find Ryan more and more baffling.
“Mr. Scott, why do I feel like you seem to know an awful lot?”
He arched an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”
“How were you just passing by the hotel and happened to catch a few incriminating photos the night I met with Professor Myers? I mean, what are the odds of someone like you hanging around a place like that at 5:00 am? Doesn’t quite suit your status, does it?”
She paused, then added, “And what about Annabelle’s pregnancy? It never even crossed my mind to question whether the baby was Cameron’s, but you made the suggestion straight away. Why would you even think that?”
A flash of suspicion crossed her face. “What are you really up to?”
Ryan lowered his gaze slightly, the corners of his mouth curving into a smile. “What do you think I’m up to?”
“It can’t be that you like Cameron, can it?”
Ryan was left speechless.
“If that’s the case, that’s tragic. You waited over a decade for a married woman, and just as long for a married man. Mr. Scott, that would make you the most tragic guy in histor
Seeing the genuine sympathy in her eyes, Ryan could hardly suppress a shudder.
He frowned. “Stop talking nonsense.”
“Mr. Scott, I’ve got another question for you.”
“Go on.”
She asked, “If you dislike me so much, why did you help me today?”
From the moment she found out about Snowball’s death, Ryan had been there, setting everything in motion.
7/12
He had sent his friend to the animal hospital to preserve the evidence and prevent anyone from tampering with Snowball’s remains.
He had booked them the first flight back to Hannover. Once they landed, he found a specialist to confirm the cause of death.
When she lost control at the Dorsey residence, he had been there, blocking Simon every time he tried to attack her.
“Because you’re my employee now,” Ryan replied. “If you caused trouble halfway through, it would disgrace Westwood Hotel.”
Cassandra stared at him in disbelief.
“What, you don’t buy that?” he asked.
She retorted, “What’s next? You gonna tell me you’re royalty and just need 50 bucks to gain your fortune?”
Ryan chuckled. “Please. Real royalty asks for five million to reclaim the kingdom. 50 bucks wouldn’t even cover the postage.”
“Come on. Why did you really help me?”
Ryan didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned in closer.
He braced one hand over the passenger seat’s backrest and pressed the other against the car window, practically trapping her there.
“What kind of answer do you want from me, Cassandra?”
She grew uneasy, shifting her head away as far as she could. “I don’t know. I’m asking you.”
Ryan leaned in even closer. “Sometimes, your subconscious already knows the truth. Why do you think I helped you?”
What he got wasn’t the answer he was hoping for, but a slap across the face from Ca wasn’t especially hard, but she certainly meant it.
dra. It
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