Chapter 194:
Freya let out a deep sigh, her breath warm against Farrah’s ear. “I can’t bear the thought of sharing a bed with him; he’s just too stiff,” she admitted, seeking solace in Farrah’s steady presence. “It’s you I wanted to be with tonight, not him.”
Farrah’s response was a stunned silence.
She swallowed hard, her throat tight. “Who are you talking about?”
“Kristian Shaw,” Freya answered, her tone sharp and clear.
Farrah’s eyes involuntarily darted across the room to the man in the sleek black suit, whose presence seemed to chill the air around him.
In that moment, the pieces fell into place.
Kristian—the very man Freya had alluded to earlier, desperate for a divorce to return to his old flame.
“Good evening, Mr. Shaw,” Farrah managed to say, infusing her greeting with a veneer of politeness.
Kristian nodded, his gaze piercing. “Take good care of her,” he commanded, his voice laden with a commanding chill. “If you need help with anything, don’t hesitate to reach out to me.”
Though his disdain for Farrah was palpable, it was clear that his primary concern was Freya’s wellbeing. Farrah gave a small nod of acknowledgment.
After inquiring about which bedroom Freya would use for the night, Farrah guided her upstairs with a gentle hand on her elbow.
Thankfully, Freya wasn’t completely overtaken by alcohol this time. Once Farrah had helped her into the shower and ensured she was settled, they both retreated to the comforting silence of sleep.
Downstairs, the two men in the living room remained seated, each lost in his own contemplation.
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The tension was palpable, hanging thick in the air like a fog. The standoff continued until the clock struck one in the morning.
It was then that Trent finally conceded to the night, his footsteps heavy as he trudged upstairs.
The fact that Farrah hadn’t come out suggested Freya was already fast asleep.
As the sound of Trent’s door closing echoed through the house, Liam made his appearance from a room on the first floor. Dressed in dark pajamas, his hair was tousled and unruly, a clear sign of having just been in bed.
Kristian, who had been simmering in a stew of his own frustrations, felt his temper flare anew at the sight of Liam.
“Chill out,” Liam remarked, his voice a tired drawl as he shuffled across the room in his slippers and collapsed onto the sofa. “It’s bad for your nerves to get worked up.”
“And you know about that?” Kristian’s voice crackled with barely contained fury, his hands itching to throw a punch.
After everything Liam had instigated tonight, Kristian thought it might be more satisfying to hurl him out the window.
Liam just chuckled—a low, irritating sound—and scooted closer on the sofa. “I’m only looking out for you, Kristian. Don’t you see that?”
Kristian’s gaze, dark and intense, pinned Liam with a mix of disbelief and irritation. It was as if he couldn’t believe Liam had the audacity to keep a straight face while saying something so absurd.
“Now that we’re alone…” Liam leaned in, his voice dropping to a hushed whisper. “How did it really hit you? Finding out Freya’s heart still harbors shadows of her first love?”
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