Midway through her statement, Bettie's faculties were abruptly restored. Her eyes fluttered open and, with an incredulous tone, she demanded, "Excuse me? Could you kindly repeat your earlier words?

What is this about?"

“I've come to deliver Mr. Blakely's clothing," Kylan replied.

Bettie, now incoherent with shock, gestured toward the living room behind her, stammering as she mumbled, "You... You mean Tyrone is here at this very moment?"

Kylan nodded gravely, stating, “Indeed. Mr. Blakely apprised me over the phone of his presence in Miss Chavez's room."

Bettie was struck dumb with disbelief.

"What? This is beyond belief!"

Bettie swiftly pieced together a realization. Sabrina had indeed ventured downstairs for Tyrone yesterday.

Sabrina even claimed to have merely cleaned the floor when she noticed it was soiled. Worse still, Sabrina's trousers were damp and she claimed she'd wielded a mop.

No wonder Sabrina had reacted so strongly when she was about to enter her room.

Her instincts were correct. A man was concealed within! To be precise, a scoundrel!

Seated upon the sofa, Bettie observed as Kylan made his way into Sabrina's room.

After some time, the door emitted a faint creak, and out emerged Tyrone, impeccably clad in a suit, his attire neatly arranged.

Kylan followed closely behind.

Hearing the commotion, Bettie turned her gaze in its direction, her anger simmering within.

With a forced, insincere smile, she addressed Tyrone, “Mr. Blakely, when did you arrive? How is it that I was unaware? You certainly have a talent for concealment."

Detecting the irony in her words, Tyrone responded with a faint smile and seated himself across from her, "Miss Ramirez, I must apologize.

Sabrina mentioned that you were slumbering last night and she didn't wish to disturb you."

The corners of Bettie's mouth quivered with an unspoken reaction.

Internally, she harbored a grievance against Sabrina.