"Take the guest bedroom. The maids will arrange everything for you there. I assu the police have confiscated your luggage as well?"
Vernon paused in front of a tall double door, then turned around to face Jane, who had been silently trailing behind him up the stairs.
Once she agreed to his proposal to beco his contractual wife, a strange emptiness settled inside her. A gnawing feeling of betrayal ate at her heart, hollowing out her mind with each passing second.
No, it wasn’t that she felt guilty for betraying Charles. What tore her apart was the fact that she was betraying herself. She was betraying her own dignity... all for the sake of money.
Exhausted, both physically and emotionally, Jane nodded silently, her eyes fixed on the floor beneath her. She had no strength left to protest or even speak.
Vernon, unfazed by her quiet distress, continued. "Your body hasn’t changed at all..." His gaze swept over her, predatory eyes lingering on her figure.
Jane felt a chill race down her spine. She was keenly aware that her clothes were still damp from the rain, clinging to her skin. But even so, she hadn’t expected him to ogle her so openly.
It was humiliating.
Instinctively, she raised her designer purse to her chest, clutching it as if it were a shield. She pressed it against her breasts, desperate to create so kind of barrier, and turned her gaze away. The embarrassnt was so intense that even the slightest eye contact would have made her feel as though she might burst into flas.
Vernon smirked, clearly amused by her seemingly innocent reaction to his comnt. "I’ve prepared so outfits for you," he said casually, "including underwear and pajamas. Take a bath and change your clothes. This," he gestured dismissively at her wet clothes, moving his finger up and down in a manner that clearly conveyed his disgust, "is trash now."
Without waiting for her to reply or react, he pushed open the doors and gave her a gentle nudge on the back, guiding her into the room ahead of him.
Barely avoiding an awkward stumble, Jane paused and took in her surroundings. Her breath caught in her throat as she glanced around in stunned silence.
The room was far more spacious and modern than she had expected, but that wasn’t what took her by surprise. No, it was the uncanny resemblance to her room back at the Devold residence. The layout, the color sche—everything. Except for the upgrades in electronics and the sleek automation, it looked almost exactly the sa.
How did he know...?
A ripple of unease surged through her. She spun around, heart pounding in her chest. "D-did you have this all p-planned beforehand?"
Vernon’s face remained almost expressionless, his gaze cool and unbothered. "What do you think?"
Jane’s brows furrowed, forming a deep frown that carried a hint of annoyance. Her mind wasn’t clear, clouded with confusion and frustration, but even now, she sensed sothing was terribly off about this entire arrangent.
"How... d-did you know?" she asked, her voice wavering only slightly as she feigned confidence. She took a step toward him, chin lifted in defiance, trying to et his cold gaze. "T-tell the truth. D-do you know where m-my father is?"
Vernon gazed down at her, his eyes locking with hers as she stared up, her intense blue eyes unwavering. The height difference between them was so striking that he couldn’t help but wonder if Jane’s neck was aching from the strain of looking up at him like this. He took his ti answering, deliberately letting the silence stretch on, testing her patience. When it beca clear that her exhaustion was pushing her to the edge, her nerves stretched thin, he finally spoke in his usual, calm tone.
"Like I said before, I don’t know where your father is. And I didn’t decorate this room myself. Why? Does it remind you of the one you used to have?" He gave a mocking glance around the room. "Then you should probably reprimand yourself for having such boring, generic taste, princess."
Jane’s mouth snapped shut, her teeth biting down on her tongue in frustration. His rudeness left her montarily speechless.
Of course, she scolded herself internally, how would he know? I’m just too tired to think clearly. I’ve overreacted...
With a sharp exhale, she turned on her heels, her mind racing with the unfairness of the situation. She marched toward the spacious queen-sized bed, throwing her purse onto the pristine white cotton sheets.
As the leather purse landed, she couldn’t help but frown, noticing how ragged and damp the wet leather looked against the stark whiteness of the bed. It was a subtle but jarring reminder of her current predicant.
"Thank you... f-for everything," she mumbled, her voice low but loud enough for Vernon to hear.
To her surprise, he scoffed again. "It’s a bit too early for that."
The casual dismissal in his tone stirred sothing inside her, an irrational wave of anger that she couldn’t suppress.
What was wrong with thanking him? Yes, she couldn’t deny that it was strange—he’d helped her for reasons she still couldn’t quite understand—but he had helped her nonetheless. So, why shouldn’t she thank him? Did she now have to swallow her gratitude, simply because she had agreed to marry him?
Frustration bubbled up inside her, and she exhaled loudly, her anger barely contained. "If I c-can’t even thank you––then what am I s-supposed to d-do?!"
She didn’t notice how Vernon had managed to sneak up behind her. One mont, she was alone, and the next, the man was standing right before her, looming over her like an immovable statue.
Jane felt her knees weaken, the soft tremble of fear crawling up her legs. She swallowed hard, instantly regretting the boldness of her challenge.
Was she really in a position to snap at the man who had offered her a helping hand?
Vernon, however, seed utterly unfazed by her outburst. With a cold, detached air, he stepped aside and casually tossed a brand-new phone onto the bed, right next to her purse.
"Here’s a new phone," he said, his tone dismissive. "But I suggest you don’t contact anyone until I tell you to. Frankly, I don’t think anyone would want to hear from you right now. For now, just wait for my instructions. Understood?"
Jane glanced at the phone over her shoulder. It was unmistakably new—the protective film still clung to the screen, untouched. The sa model as the one lying dead in her purse. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut, stirring an unsettling feeling inside her stomach.
Shifting her bright blue eyes back to Vernon, she muttered, "I really d-don’t get it..."
A sly grin stretched across Vernon’s handso face, his lips curling with amusent. He strode toward the door with a resolute step, pausing just before the handles. His hands gripped the round doorknobs, and he cast a careless glance over his shoulder.
"And you never did."
With that, he slamd the door shut behind him, leaving Jane standing in complete silence.
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