Chapter 204:
“I won’t go,” Farrah declared firmly, stepping back to put space between them. A wave of panic washed over her, more intense than ever before.
Felipe’s hand lingered in the air, still warm from their contact. His eyes darkened, his tone chilling.
“Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret.”
Farrah held her ground, refusing to back down.
At that moment, Trent made his way down the stairs.
Amid the strained air that hung palpably between them, he didn’t probe too deeply and instead ventured,
“How’s Freya doing?”
“She just woke up. She was still sleeping when I got out of bed,” Farrah responded with a calm demeanor, though a flicker of contemplation crossed her face.
Felipe, catching snippets of their exchange, shifted his gaze from one to the other, piecing together that Farrah had been tasked by Trent to look after Freya.
A question nagged at him—what was Kristian doing last night? Wasn’t he supposed to be the one caring for his wife?
“Thanks for stepping in last night,” Trent chimed in, his tone courteous and his attire sharp in a well-tailored suit.
Farrah brushed off his gratitude with a light-hearted, “It was no big deal.”
Yet, Felipe’s mood soured once more. What did she mean by “no big deal”? What exactly was going on between her and Trent? And why would she agree to tend to Freya, a woman she barely knew, merely on Trent’s say-so?
“Rumors had always swirled around you, claiming your indifference towards women, but it looks like they were wrong,” Felipe mused aloud with a casual air that belied the keen sharpness in his eyes. “I never took you for someone with such a bunch of close female friends, Seymour.”
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Trent’s expression clouded with confusion.
Across from him, Farrah found herself at a loss for words. What the hell was wrong with Felipe?
“What exactly brought you and Farrah together?” Felipe inquired, his piercing gaze locking onto Trent with an intensity that seemed to cut through the air.
Trent, ever astute, picked up on the undercurrents swirling between Felipe and Farrah. He responded smoothly, his voice calm but edged with a hint of amusement,
“Farrah happens to be a friend of Freya’s, and since Freya and I have known each other for a long time, that’s how we met.”
Felipe’s expression turned to stone. Farrah and Freya were friends?
“Are you aware of their friendship?” Trent teased, reveling slightly in the unfolding drama. His voice was even, but the sharp glint in his eye betrayed his enjoyment.
“Of course, I knew,” Felipe countered swiftly, his voice devoid of hesitation. His casual dismissal belied the tightness around his eyes. “I merely didn’t anticipate your… unique approach to forming friendships. Do you make it a point to know all of Freya’s friends?”
“More or less,” Trent replied, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. His tone was effortless and genuine.
The history between him and Freya was deep—they were childhood friends, woven into the fabric of each other’s lives, along with a shared circle of friends.
.
.
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