Chapter 221
Freya offered Preston a smile that was on the warmer side of polite. “I’ve heard through the grapevine that you have quite the roster of well–trained bodyguards. As luck would have it, I’ve noticed someone lurking around fifty yards back wherever I go. Mr. Tyler, you get the picture.” Freya left things unsaid.
Preston had his eyes on her, likely brewing some nefarious plan.
But then, Freya found herself in cahoots with Preston, and any chance of getting out was up to his whims
“Ms. Dawson, do you know what I like most about you?” asked Preston.
Freya snorted, “Oh? I’m all ears and need to kick whatever bad habit that is,”
“I admire your smarts, your knack for reading the room, and… well, you’re quite the character.” Preston’s narrow eyes twinkled with mirth,
look that seemed out of place on his chiseled, stoic face.
en feeling Preston was eyeing her as a plaything, Freya quickly changed the subject. “Let’s cut to the chase, Mr. Tyler What brings you to me? Surely not to enjoy my misfortunes,”
After Kieran publicly called off their engagement, the news spread like wildfire among their social circle. Kieran did it on purpose, aiming to embarrass her among the elite. And he succeeded.
Summit University was a melting pot for the rich and the privileged, a playground for trust fund babies. Today, Cindy and Mae started the drama, but Freya knew her life at school was about to get a lot harder.
Just as Freya puzzled over Preston’s motives, he suddenly grabbed her injured hand. Her slender, soft hand bore scars.
Instinctively, Freya tried to pull away, but Preston’s grip was firm. “We’re partners, Ms. Dawson. I’ve got you a special gift. Hope you might appreciate it.”
Freya’s guard was up. “And what would that be?”
“Only the best, of course.” Preston’s lips curved into a slight smirk.
Freya had her doubts about Preston’s generosity.
At that moment, Hans parked outside a villa, and Freya followed Preston out of the car, puzzled.
When Freya saw “the Garcia Family” emblazoned on the door, she realized it. “Preston! What are you planning?”
“Come.” Preston led her by the wrist toward the Garcia family’s villa.
Mae’s family was well–off, but their wealth didn’t stand out in Summit University’s affluent circles. The once pristine villa was then a scene of destruction, with shattered glass littering the yard.
“Mercy! Please, mercy! We know we were wrong! Mr. Tyler, spare us!”
“Please… spare us…”
A middle–aged couple was on the ground, sobbing and pleading for their lives. The stout man had to be Mae’s father, and the woman in the gaudy clothes, her mother.
Preston’s men had trashed the place.
“No tough nuts here, boss. They started begging before we even lifted a finger!”
“Hmm.” Preston nonchalantly waved his hand.
Standing aside with tasers pointed at Mr. and Mrs. Garcia, Preston’s men warned, “Keep your daughter in line! You know who you’re messing with! Cross us again, and we’ll cripple you!”
“Yes, it’s all Mae’s fault! Ms. Dawson, we’re so sorry! Please, for Mae’s sake, she’s just a kid. Whatever the cost, we’ll pay!”
