Her body appeared very stiff, as if she was caught in some kind of tension, her body was tightly wound, and the hand hanging by her side was clenched very tightly.

After fastening his seat belt, Matthew Saxon looked up at her, and only then did he notice that Scarlett Yates’s face had become very pale.

That fair-skinned, rosy, and pretty face, like a ripe apple, had turned extremely pale.

She tightly pressed her lips together, her eyes flickered uneasily a few times, and her whole being was in a state of tension.

Matthew Saxon touched her forehead: "What’s wrong? Your face suddenly looks so bad."

His touch seemed to make her even more nervous, her body taut like a drawn bow, clearly anxious, yet a seemingly relaxed smile squeezed onto her lips: "It’s nothing, just feeling a bit tired."

She did seem to look a bit tired indeed.

Matthew Saxon withdrew his hand from her forehead, lowered the seat position so she could lie down and sleep for a while, and took a cashmere blanket from the back seat and covered her with it: "We stayed out a bit late today, have a good sleep when we get back."

Scarlett Yates grabbed the cashmere blanket and draped it over herself, covering everything except her head, and mumbled a response: "Mm, I’ll... I’ll sleep for a bit first."

Matthew Saxon turned on the car’s music, adjusted the volume to very low, and selected a slow and beautiful melody, his deep and melodious voice as pleasing as the song: "Sleep, I’ll wake you when we get there."

Scarlett Yates lightly responded again, turned her back to him, and then closed her eyes.

At first, she hadn’t intended to actually fall asleep, but the lulling effect of the song Matthew Saxon chose was so good that, as she listened, her eyelids became uncontrollable.

During her sleep, she turned over.

When she turned over, the blanket covering her slid off.

At that moment, the traffic light ahead turned red.

Matthew Saxon stopped the car, turned around, picked up the blanket that had fallen to the seat and was about to cover her again, but at the moment just before the blanket was draped over her, he saw those red marks on her chest once again.

His narrow eyes suddenly contracted, and the blanket slipped from his hand.

Under the car lights, the red marks he had just joked were mosquito bites and the marks he saw under the dim streetlights were completely different.

At that time, it was dark, and he only glanced casually, without seeing clearly at all.

And now, even though the car lights were dim, they lit up those few red marks very clearly.

Her skin was very white, snow-like, crystalline and translucent, so the red marks on her chest stood out particularly clearly.

When he looked earlier, the color was not this red.

His slender eyes gradually tightened as Matthew Saxon stared deadly at the red marks on her chest, disbelief in his eyes.

He knew best whether these red marks were mosquito bites or caused by something else, and it was absolutely impossible to judge wrongly.

These were kiss marks.

Scarlett Yates had kiss marks on her chest, and these marks were not made by him.

His heart sank inch by inch.

Matthew Saxon hoped he was mistaken.

He did not believe Scarlett Yates had another man outside.

Suddenly, Matthew Saxon realized Scarlett Yates might have deceived him.

In Darknight City, during the time she disappeared, she wasn’t just lost.

As to where she actually went or what she did, he still couldn’t be sure.