Chapter 35


    Tyrone strolled into the house, his clothes already freshly changed, a paper bag swinging


    from his grip as he made his way into the living room.


    It was past 11, yet the York family’s living room was alive with chatter.


    “Tyrone, you’re back.”


    With a drawl, Tyrone replied, “Mom, you’re still up?”


    His mother, Mrs. York, stood from her seat, starting to say, “Well, I was just…”


    Before Mrs. York could finish, the person next to her quickly interjected in a soft tone, “Tyrone, you’re


    home. I didn’t have much going on today, so I thought I’d drop by and check on Mrs. York. We got to


    talking and time just flew by.”


    Tyrone’s gaze fell on Rachel, and he couldn’t even muster the effort to give her a cold look, “Mom,


    you’re not getting any younger. Why are you burning the midnight oil? Looking to add more wrinkles to


    r collection?”


    Mrs. York was indeed over fifty but had taken such good care of herself that she appeared to be in her


    early forties. She touched her face anxiously, “Oh dear, is that true?”


    Impatient, Tyrone said, “I’m beat. I’m heading upstairs to bed.”


    Mrs. York caught hold of him, “Hold on a sec. Rachel’s been waiting for you for quite a


    while.”


    “If she wants to wait, that’s her problem, not mine.”


    Tyrone had never given Rachel a second thought. A few years back, she had done a small favor for


    Mrs. York, earning her good graces, and since then she had been spreading rumors about being


    Tyrone’s fiancée.


    Tyrone couldn’t care less, but Rachel was persistent. For three years, she endured being ignored by


    him, not even worth a nce, let alone a conversation. Still, she managed to keep up appearances,


    acting as if their rtionship was rock solid.


    Tyrone had never taken such a tantly ambitious woman seriously. If it weren’t for the fact that she


    somehow kept his mother in high spirits, he would have had her dealt with long ago.


    Mrs. York had hoped to get Tyrone to exchange a few words with Rachel but inadvertently noticed a


    mark on his neck, “Yikes, what’s happened to your neck? Who bit you? And what’s this?”


    The area around the wound was smeared with the remnants of lipstick – the unmistakable sign of a


    recent rendezvous. He hadn’t bothered to clean up after his escapade beforeing home!


    Mrs York fumed inside, the brazenness of these temptresses knew no bounds. Her expression soured


    as she turned to look at Rachel, whose pale face and slender frame were trembling slightly, clearly


    shocked.


    Mrs. York swatted Tyrone’s arm, “Look at you, getting worse every day. You’re a grown man with a


    girlfriend; It’s time to start acting like it.”


    Tyrone, visibly annoyed, turned away, “I’m heading up. From now on, don’t let strangers stay in the


    house.”


    Mrs. York called after him, “Tyrone, is that the way how you speak?”


    She wanted to discipline her son, but she had never been able to control him. Being the only son of


    her, Tyrone had been headstrong from a young age, listening to no one, Insisting everyone listen to him


    instead. His domineering nature was well known, and he had grown from a little tyrant into a full–blown


    authority.


    Today, his mood was rtively good, evident by the fact he exchanged a few words with her. But on his


    bad days, a mere cold nce from him could leave Mrs. York speechless.


    Turning to Rachel awkwardly, Mrs. York suggested, “Rachel, maybe you should head home for now.”


    Rachel’s eyes were red as she spoke, “Mrs. York, I just want to go upstairs and talk to Tyrone. I’m not


    mad at him; it’s just he can’t be so careless with women. He’s letting those loose women mark him up


    so badly. He might not care, but it hurts me to see him like


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