She had secretly taken a quick glance under the blanket earlier—her clothes were indeed gone.
But everything else seemed normal.
There were no marks and bruises, nothing unusual on her skin.
She wasn’t inexperienced; she knew well enough what her body should feel like if something had really happened.
And right now, she felt nothing out of place, which meant Edwin hadn’t done anything inappropriate to her.
Realizing this, Yvonne finally let out a quiet sigh of relief. “Just get out first. I’ll deal with you later.”
Right now, she needed to collect herself. Sitting here clutching a blanket only made her feel cornered and powerless and she refused to stay in that position.
But Edwin found her words amusing. “You’re saying that to the man who helped you? Don’t you think you’re being a little heartless?”
Her head snapped up. “Heartless? I haven’t even started holding you accountable for this, and you’re calling me heartless?”
She truly couldn’t understand how his mind worked.
He tilted his head and said, “Alright then, think about it carefully. Did I actually do anything to you?”
That caught her off guard.
She froze, because deep down she knew he hadn’t.
The truth was, she had been the one to call him out for drinks.
No matter how she tried to twist the situation, none of this was his fault. The chat history on her phone made that painfully clear.
She silently cursed herself for making that call in the first place.
Edwin noticed the shift in her expression—her face cycling through embarrassment, realization, and regret like a painter’s palette. The sight made him smirk.

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