Chapter 193:
“You mean to tell me she hasn’t mentioned this in the two years you’ve been married?” Trent’s words struck like a cold, sharp dagger.
Words failed Kristian entirely.
Trent pressed further with a cold smirk, “Didn’t she say anything in your ear while holding you close?”
“This matter is between her and me; it’s hardly appropriate for you to pry,” Kristian snapped back, putting an end to the discussion. “If you want to understand relationships, perhaps you should try getting married yourself.”
Trent merely offered a cryptic smile, gave no reply, and sauntered over to sit next to Freya, awaiting Farrah’s arrival.
Kristian felt as if he were slamming against a brick wall.
His thoughts wandered back to their wedding night, when Freya had commented, as she embraced him, that his body felt too rigid. That was the last time she ever held him.
About an hour later, Farrah showed up, her trench coat hugging her frame. Her long brown hair gleamed softly beneath the evening lights. She was swiftly ushered inside by the vigilant bodyguards stationed at the entrance. The only reason she dared to traverse the winding roads to this secluded villa at such a late hour was a brief, confirming phone call—Trent had indeed been referring to her dear friend Freya.
“Good evening, Seymour,” Farrah greeted with a poised smile, her eyes meeting Trent’s as he opened the door to welcome her.
Trent, a titan in the legal world, commanded respect and admiration—a fact Farrah was keenly aware of.
“Freya is inside,” Trent replied, his voice low and considerate, careful not to use Freya’s intimate nickname, Mina, in the presence of others. “She’s had a bit too much to drink, I’m afraid. Could you look after her for a while?”
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“Of course,” Farrah responded without hesitation.
As she stepped through the door after him, her thoughts swirled with curiosity about Freya’s well-being and whether Trent might be the one Freya had gone off and married without telling anyone.
Her thoughts crumbled to dust when she saw the man carefully tending to Freya, bringing her steps to an abrupt halt.
Kristian?
“Freya…” Farrah froze in the living room, her thoughts tripping over themselves, trying to make sense of it all.
At the sound of Farrah’s voice, Freya’s head snapped up. Her expression remained unreadable, yet her eyes sparkled with an unusual intensity.
The moment Freya spotted Farrah, she sprang from her seat and dashed across the room, her arms wide open. “Farrah!” she exclaimed, burying herself in Farrah’s embrace.
Farrah was utterly dumbstruck.
As she returned Freya’s hug, her mind raced to catch up with the evening’s surreal turn of events.
The notion that she, of all people, would encounter the enigmatic Kristian and the elusive Trent in one night seemed beyond belief. Who would ever believe a story like that?
“What’s happening?” she whispered, her voice barely audible as she leaned into Freya.
.
.
.