Chapter 7: Was There Another Man In Stacey's Life?

A chilling rage ignited in Conor's eyes. After all, Stacey was his wife now. Delaney's audacity to intimidate Stacey was an insult to the Burton family. Suddenly, Delaney pulled herself together, realizing Stacey was manipulating her. If this continued, she would only incur Conor's displeasure further. If Stacey could play the victim, why couldn't she? Was she going to be bested by a simpleton? Especially one so plain-looking! Any man with an eye for beauty would know who to console. So, Delaney put on an innocent expression, "Conor, you gotta trust me. I wouldn't ever do anything like that. You can't take her word over mine. I wouldn't lie." "You wouldn't lie?" A bit of sarcasm snuck onto Conor's handsome, dignified face. But this was even more painful for Delaney than his usual icy demeanor. "Do you trust the words of a fool?" Delaney was desperate. "Fools aren't known for their deception," Conor replied coolly, "Stacey is very innocent. Just because she doesn't have your silver tongue, you feel justified in blaming her for everything?" Delaney was left speechless. "Achoo!" Stacey suddenly sneezed. Conor placed his slender, white hand on Stacey's forehead, his face darkening, "Elodie, call the doctor!" Conor moved to help Stacey up the stairs. He'd been careless. Too caught up arguing with Delaney, he'd forgotten that Stacey might catch a cold. "Conor, hold up!" Delaney stood in his way. "You gotta believe me. I wasn't trying to hurt her..." Conor coldly glanced at her, "You're hurting her right now. She's got a fever, and here you are, stopping me from taking her upstairs. What game are you playing, Delaney Green?" Delaney was taken aback. Sure, she secretly wished for Stacey to worsen from her fever, maybe even for it to make her even more dim-witted. Delaney couldn't understand. Stacey was foolish and unattractive. Why would Conor keep her around? Was it just because of her surname? "Conor, it hurts," Stacey's voice was hoarse from her cold. Conor scooped her up and started moving towards the second floor. Delaney looked on as they moved away, stomping her foot in anger. Damn! What kind of magic had this simpleton worked on Conor? Why was he treating her like this? Conor carried Stacey into the room and went straight for the bathroom. He set Stacey down and turned the bath faucet on. He glanced at her, "Take off your wet clothes." Stacey looked at him, puzzled. What was he up to? Was he planning to take advantage of her in her weakened state? Something flickered in her innocent eyes, and Conor smirked, "So you're not as foolish as you seem. You understand there's a difference between men and women." Stacey answered thoughtfully, "If men bully me, I'll chase them away!" "They bully you?" Conor frowned. "Yep," Stacey nodded vigorously. "But, I fought them off and tossed them into the pigpen. After that, they were too scared to mess with me." Conor was mildly taken aback, "You could fight off men?" "I could handle it," she stated confidently. Even though she was weak back then, she wasn't a pushover. A deep determination settled in Conor's eyes, "Don't worry. No one will dare to mess with you as long as you're with me." Stacey nodded. Standing up, Conor said, "I'll have Elodie help you with the bath." He had no intentions of assisting her himself. As he was about to leave, Stacey tugged at his shirt's hem, gently shaking her head, "I can take a bath by myself." "Are you sure?" Conor looked at her, his gaze calm and skeptical. Stacey nodded again. "Alright. I'll be outside. Call me if you need anything," Conor strode out of the room. Stacey closed the door behind him, locking the bathroom door. She sighed in relief. That was a close shave. She had been worried that Conor might be a wolf in sheep's clothing. Hearing the sound of the lock, Conor couldn't help but smirk. She was clever enough to lock the door. She had a decent grasp of essential life skills. Stacey took her bath. Conor removed his suit jacket, damp from Stacey's wet clothes, and sat on the couch, eyes closed in quiet contemplation. After a while, the bathroom door opened. Stacey emerged wearing Conor's bathrobe. No spare clothes were in the bathroom, so she had to use Conor's. Hearing the movement, Conor opened his eyes. Despite being slender, Stacey was tall and striking. Delaney was about 5 feet 6 inches, but Stacey was no less. Her skin was smooth and delicate, as white as milk. Under the robe, the glimpse of her legs was breathtaking - long, straight, without a trace of excess fat. Conor knew that beneath the robe, her figure was undoubtedly flawless. The thought made him involuntarily frown. Such thoughts were inappropriate! Stacey was naive, and it was wrong for him to think this way. Conor stood up and walked over to Stacey. Stacey blinked, staring into his deep, ink-like eyes. "I've been careless," Conor confessed, seemingly not hiding his thoughts from Stacey, "I'll have someone bring clothes for you." He took out his phone and dialed Lennox, "When you stop by later. Bring some women's clothes. Both underwear and outerwear." "Got it," Lennox didn't dare to ask more. However, he suspected that these were for Conor's newlywed wife. He was pretty curious about the young bride's appearance, whether she was as beautiful as a flower. When Lennox arrived and saw Stacey, he couldn't help but smirk. Indeed, she was as beautiful as a flower. A withered flower. "What are you looking at? Wait for me in the study," Conor ordered, taking the bag from Lennox and shooing him away. Lennox silently withdrew. Setting the bag on the bed, Conor asked, "Do you know how to wear these clothes?" Stacey nodded. Of course, she knew! Even feigning innocence, she still had the intellect of a five-year-old. And a five-year-old could be pretty clever! Her little Ethan was unusually clever, after all. Seeing her nod, Conor felt relieved, "I'll speak with the uncle from before. After you've changed. Wait in the room. Someone will bring food. Understand?" "I understand," Stacey replied, pretending to be obedient. Conor turned to leave. As he did, Lennox corrected him, "I'm her brother, not her uncle." "Stop being shameless," Conor retorted coldly. Moreover, he didn't like Stacey calling anyone 'brother.' Although Stacey was naive, her voice was lovely and pleasant. When she called him Conor, his mood would always lighten. The thought of her calling others 'brother' annoyed him. So Lennox Robinson could only be an uncle. They reached the study where Lennox reported, "Those two men are still unconscious. But judging from their injuries. They were knocked out after hitting the back of their heads on a stone. And it wasn't self-inflicted. Someone pushed them." "And your point is?" Conor asked coolly, "What are you getting at?" "Do you think Stacey has that kind of strength?" Lennox said, "Or was someone else at the scene, maybe a man?" A man? Was there another man in Stacey's life?