?Chapter 993:


    This wasn’t the time for drama or surprises—not with Farrah. Exes? They belonged firmly in the rearview.


    Felipe and Farrah were already divorced—there was no reason for him to resurface now.


    “If you won’t take me, I’ll just stick around,” Felipe said nonchntly. “I know all your details. Call the cops if you want—it’s useless.”


    Freya stared at him, speechless. Truly, the shameless could get away with anything.


    “Suit yourself,” she muttered, brushing him off.


    With Ellis in the picture, if Felipe really managed to hang around, he deserved a medal.


    Felipe blinked. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Shouldn’t she have lost her temper and taken a swing by now? If she did, he could’ve threatened her with an assault report and used it to get to Farrah. But instead, she was letting him be?


    As Felipe stood there, trying to gauge whether this was some twisted ploy, Freya had already locked her car and started toward the elevator. He trailed behind.


    She didn’t speak, just shot him a frosty look.


    They ascended in silence. When they reached her floor, she stepped out first, and he followed closely behind.


    Freya stopped at a door and knocked, already rehearsing how she’d exin all this.


    Felipe hesitated. Why knock on her own door? Did someone else live there?


    A sick feeling of regret twisted in his gut. If her family was present, how was he going to exin himself?


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    When no one answered, Freya pivoted and knocked on a second door—this time her own.


    After just two knocks, the door opened.


    A man appeared—tall, refined, with a calm strength to his features.


    Felipe’s eyes narrowed. Who the hell was this? A neighbor?


    “Sweetheart, I’ve been followed,” Freya said seriously, her tone shifting as she gestured toward Felipe. “By him.” Both men paused, taken aback by the term.


    Sweetheart? Was Ellis her boyfriend?


    “‘Followed’? Don’t make it sound so creepy,” Felipe interjected, uneasy with the sudden implication. “I just want you to take me to see Farrah.”


    Freya gave no reply. Neither did Ellis. Instead, he handed Freya a pair offortable shoes, gentle and unbothered.


    Ellis wasn’t surprised—Trent had mentioned Felipe before, and his assistant had filed a thorough report. He knew exactly who Felipe was. And he knew he wasn’t some stalker.


    But if Freya said she was being followed, then that was that.


    Once she changed, Ellis looked over at Felipe, his eyes steady. His voice was calm, but carried undeniable weight. “Sir, will you leave on your own, or should I have security escort you out?”


    Felipe stiffened. Who did this guy think he was? Why was he so imposing?


    “What does my business with Freya have to do with you?” he demanded.


    “She’s my girlfriend,” Ellis said evenly. “You tell me.” His tone didn’t waver. “If you won’t go, I’ll dly see you out myself.”


    Felipe’s eyes scanned the hallway. He was no coward—he’d been trained for worse. But Freya? She could throw a punch. And if she jumped in to back this guy up? He wouldn’t stand a chance.


    “You got the guts to fight me?” Felipe suddenly challenged. Ellis didn’t answer at first.


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