Chapter 207:
Liam gave him a fleeting look, his expression revealing barely a flicker of emotion.
“She’s a friend of Freya’s. It was Freya’s idea to have her here, so Trent reached out,” Kristian explained, fully aware of the undercurrents of Felipe’s concerns.
“There’s absolutely nothing romantic happening between her and Trent.”
He remembered standing there when Trent had dialed her number; their initial exchange was polite, distant, like two people just getting acquainted.
Felipe’s face twisted into a grimace, his lips tight.
“I know,” he muttered tersely.
This caught Kristian off guard, and a flicker of confusion passed between him and Liam.
If Felipe already knew the nature of their relationship, what was fueling this tension?
“Just a heads up,” Felipe continued with a hint of sternness.
“If Farrah asks for a ride when you leave, make sure you turn her down. And tell Zander the same. Trent shouldn’t take her either.”
Kristian frowned, irritation knitting his brows together.
“What do you mean?”
He was already in a foul mood, haunted by remnants of a disturbing dream from the night before—a premonition of sorts, suggesting that Freya might lead a reckless life after their divorce.
There was no trace of Felipe’s usual playful smirk. Instead, his features were composed into a serious expression, yet his voice carried a light tone.
“Farrah rides only in my car.”
Get lost in stories on gⱯlnσν𝒆ℓs﹒𝓬𝓸𝓶
The siblings were momentarily dumbstruck, processing Felipe’s words. It seemed like a bizarre display of possessiveness, almost as if he were flaunting his control.
Kristian’s patience snapped.
“Get out!”
Felipe just chuckled, brushing off the outburst as he remained in the room, undeterred.
The air was thick with tension as the three men lingered silently.
At about 8 A.M., Freya came down the stairs at last, stepping into the living room where Zander loitered, his hair tousled in a charming disarray.
Once everyone had gathered, Liam, wearing an apron, cheerfully set about serving breakfast.
The surroundings were drenched in an awkward unease that hovered over the dining table like a stubborn fog.
Kristian stole glances at Freya with a frequency that made the air crackle; the tension he radiated was palpable.
Liam’s eyes flicked back and forth between Kristian and Freya.
Freya, for her part, appeared remarkably composed under the weight of those stares, quietly eating her breakfast. Her eyes were downcast, her thoughts seemingly miles away.
Felipe, who had strategically seated himself at the opposite end of the table from Farrah, abruptly set down his utensils, breaking the silence.
“Didn’t you have something you wanted to discuss with Freya? Why the hesitation?” he demanded, his voice cutting through the morning stillness.
.
.
.