Chapter 18: Finding Fault

Bethany was startled and hastily avoided Clinton's kiss. "No, I haven't showered yet!"

"It's fine. I don't mind," Clinton said.

But she minded.

"I said no!" Bethany exerted all her strength to push Clinton away.

Unprepared, Clinton fell off the sofa.

Instantly annoyed, he got up from the floor and pointed angrily at Bethany. "Looks like your condition hasn't improved at all. Who's the quack that treated you? I'll ask him whether your condition can be cured. If not, I'll find someone else!"

Bethany sat up from the sofa and said, "I feel something."

"Do you look like you're feeling anything?" Clinton was frustrated. "Bethany, when did you learn to lie?"

"I just feel like it's not appropriate here, but I have a physical reaction," Bethany said.

She was indeed lying because this reaction was the residual warmth left by someone else.

Clinton looked down at Bethany's lower abdomen with a mix of belief and doubt. Could it be...

"Are you wet?" Clinton asked.

Bethany lowered her gaze and softly replied, "Yes."

"Let me see."

Clinton approached Bethany, reaching out to confirm her words by touching her thigh.

Bethany clamped her legs together, pushing Clinton's hand away. "I said it's not a proper place here!"

Clinton held Bethany again, eagerly saying, "What are you afraid of? Baby, I want you now."

Just as Clinton was about to try again, urgent knocking sounded.

"Clinton, something's wrong with your car! It got hit!"

At such a crucial moment, Clinton couldn't care less about the car.

But the person shouted even more loudly, "Clinton? Are you asleep?"

Bethany seized the chance and said, "Your Porsche has just been delivered. Hurry up and take a look!"

Clinton said, "It's just a car. It's not as important as you are. Leave it alone."

The knocking persisted.

Impatient, Clinton yelled, "Just a damn car. If it's hit, let it be hit. Don't bother me and get lost!"

He had waited for this moment for four years, and now that the moment had arrived, he was determined to sleep with Bethany.

Bethany had only wanted to bluff Clinton. She thought he would consider the situation and stop there.

She didn't expect him to be so rash, not considering the consequences at all.

Just as she was about to defend herself, the person said again, "Clinton, it's a big shot! If you don't show up, this won't be settled!"

Clinton was furious, pounding the sofa. "Damn it! I want to see what kind of big shot dared to hit my car and then ask me to clean up the mess!"

He got up and pulled Bethany along.

As they stepped out, several people were waiting. When they saw the disheveled appearance of the two, they looked at Bethany and Clinton with interest.

Someone teased, "No wonder Clinton wouldn't come out. Turns out he's having a tryst with his baby!"

"Yeah, he just got that sports car, and now he's not even taking care of it."

Bethany looked coldly at these people, saying nothing.

Clinton hugged her tightly and said, "What's the big deal with me flirting with my baby? Stop the nonsense and take me to see who's causing trouble."

Bethany happened to want to go home, so she went to the parking lot with Clinton.

As they looked over, they saw two cars collide in the large parking lot. Clinton's sports car was severely damaged, while the other Rolls-Royce only had a few scratches.

Both the ground marks and the damage on the sports car indicated deliberate action.

Clinton was heartbroken.

He cursed angrily, "Damn it, picking on me, huh? Let's see who the hell it is. Get out of the car!"

The window of the Rolls-Royce rolled down halfway, revealing half of the owner's face in the dim light. With a disdainful smile, he said, "You drive such a broken car, and you still think I should get out?"

"Who do you think you are?" Clinton said.