She Took The House The Car And My Heart

Chapter 13 Eager To Take My Place

Trent wanted to agree-but the words stuck in his throat.

Freya didn't want him tangled in her divorce, yet as her friend, he couldn't stand by while she faced unfair

treatment.

Besides, her father had entrusted him with a task: ensure Kristian knew Freya wasn't standing alone.

For the first time, Freya misread Trent's gaze, suspecting some unspoken alliance with Felipe. "I'm okay with

that."

"Alright," Trent agreed, letting the moment pass without explanation.

Felipe's eyes sparkled with amusement. After a few exchanged words, he strode away.noveldrama

The door clicked shut. Freya turned to Trent, her voice steady. "Just act like you normally would. Don't adjust

for me."

"Okay." Trent left it at that. When he faced Kristian later, polite restraint wouldn't be necessary.

Felipe returned in high spirits. Leaning against the private room doorway, he smirked at Kristian. "They refused

to share a table-didn't want us ruining their cozy lunch."

Kristian's gaze darkened. His hand froze mid-reach in his pocket.

"But they agreed to meet later," Felipe added. "You should've seen Trent-obedient

as a devoted boyfriend. Anyone would assume they're together."

"Get your eyes checked." Kristian's retort was ice. "While you're at it, hire a tutor for that pathetic vocabulary

of yours."

Felipe blinked, lost. He elbowed Zander. "What does he mean by that?"

"He just hates your commentary," Zander replied, his smile gentle, almost apologetic.

Felipe gritted his teeth. Kristian always knew where to jab. This wasn't over. Thirty minutes later.

Felipe sent Kristian and Zander ahead to the upstairs club, playing escort for Freya and Trent himself. The club —a dimly lit haven of drinks and murmured conversations-was the restaurant's post-dinner indulgence.

And the restaurant? Wholly Felipe's.

"Meet my friends: Kristian Shaw and Zander Loftus." Felipe's grin widened as Kristian's stare locked or sya.

"This is Trent Seymour from Alerith... and his friend."

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Pleasantries were exchanged, brittle and brief.

Kristian's and Freya's eyes met-a clash of silent fury,

"Kristian," Felipe teased, "you're a married man. Staring at Mr. Seymour's 'friend' like that? Improper.

"The 'friend' you mention is my wife." Kristian's tone was razor-sharp. "I wonder if Mr. Seymour is aware."

The air turned to glass-fragile, ready to shatter.

If Freya and Trent were more than friends, this was the moment truth would out.

"I knew my sweet friend was married." Trent settled onto the sofa, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses with

deliberate calm. "But to you? That's... unexpected."

Freya shot him a glance. His sugary tone sent a shudder down her spine. What game was he playing?

Trent's eyes flicked toward her, as if saying, "I've got your back."

She barely stifled a sigh.

Kristian caught it too-that familiarity, that audacity.

He'd never realized Trent and Freya were this close.

Felipe suddenly stood, offering his seat with exaggerated courtesy, "My mistake

for not recognizing you earlier. This is your rightful place-please, sit."

"No need."

"No need."

Kristian and Freya spoke in unison, their voices twin blades of frost.

"What's going on with you two?" Felipe pressed, theatrically wide-eyed. "Did you have a fight?"

Kristian's glare could've melted steel.

Felipe pretended not to notice.

"You talk with them." Freya had no interest in sparring with Kristian further. She turned to Trent. "I'm going to

the restroom."

"Alright," Trent agreed, his tone dripping with gentleness.

The scene burned Kristian's retinas. Their effortless intimacy made him feel like the intruder.

"How did you and Kristian's wife meet, Mr. Seymour?" Felipe asked, swirling his drink.

Trent hesitated.

He wanted to say childhood friends, family ties-but Freya's warning echoed in his mind. He couldn't reveal

her identity.

His pause stretched a second too long.

Kristian misinterpreted it instantly. Whatever their first meeting was, it must've

been... compromising

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The room's temperature plummeted.

"If it's sensitive, forget I asked." Felipe laughed, pouring drinks as they arrived. "Let's toast! Gatherings like this

are rare."

The conversation limped forward until Freya returned. Every eye tracked her.

She'd done what she came for. "I'm leaving," she announced. "Stay if you want."

"Don't rush." Felipe blocked her path. "Leave with Kristian later."

"No." Freya's refusal was absolute.

"Stay a while longer," Trent added.

Freya was silent but didn't walk out.

Kristian's grip on his glass turned lethal. His knuckles bleached white; his ribs cramped around the fury in his

chest.

"Freya mentioned you're divorcing." Trent's question was a scalpel to Kristian's nerves. "Is it true?"

"Eager to take my place?" Kristian snarled, the words raw and unplanned. Regret lashed him the moment they

escaped.

Everyone froze.

Even Felipe stiffened. No one expected such venom. If he truly wanted the

divorce, why the rage?

"Kristian." Freya had meant to stay silent, but his words were a bridge too far. "Do you ever use that brain for anything beyond decoration?"

Kristian's hand froze mid-air. Temper flaring, he shot back, “Then stop giving me reasons to say these things."

"You're insane." Arguing was pointless.

She drained her wine in one savage tilt.

As she reached for a second glass, Kristian's jaw twitched. He moved to stop her,

but Trent was faster.

"Don't," he murmured, eyes soft with concern. "It's not good for you."

Freya set the glass down, her emotions in turmoil. She'd never imagined Kristian

could wound her so deeply.

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