?Chapter 1091:


    Freya didn’t answer. Instead, she stood up abruptly. “Come upstairs with me,” she said.


    He raised an eyebrow. “Hmm?”


    “I want to sleep with you,” she said tly—part challenge, part confession.


    Ellis hadn’t expected that. “Now?”


    “Now,” Freya said firmly, fire in her eyes. She’d already mapped out her revenge in her head.


    Ellis narrowed his gaze, a half-smirk tugging at his lips. “You think I don’t know what you’re up to?” She blinked. “You’re nning to rile me up, then leave me hanging. That it?”


    Freya faltered. How the hell did he figure that out so fast?


    But she wasn’t backing down. Without another word, she marched over, climbed onto hisp, and straddled him—face-to-face, daring him to flinch. “So? Are you going to stop me or not?”


    Ellis leaned back slightly, his voice low and rough. “No. I’ll let you.” He could tell she was still angry. Best let her burn some of it off, or she’d explodeter.


    “If you’re really up for it,” he added casually, his hand sliding around her waist, fingers trailing just above the base of her spine, “this couch could make a pretty decent choice.” His lips curled. “Why not just take me here?”


    Freya froze—then shot up like the couch was on fire, bolting up the stairs without a single word.


    In that moment, it dawned on her that Ellis didn’t know the meaning of shame. The things he just said? No shy man would ever have the guts to say that out loud.


    Downstairs, Ellis leaned back and exhaled a quiet sigh of relief. Thank God she lost her cool first, he thought. If she had called my bluff and actually gone through with it, I wouldn’t have known what to do. Especially since we’d used up thest of our “supplies” the night before.


    Stay tuned for updates at g?lnσν???s?c?m


    Up in her room, Freya vented her frustration to her group chat. Her message was essentially aint: their advice was totally useless.


    Greta said, “Girl, I give you props. I can’t believe you actually tried to sleep with him.”


    Riley said, “Wait. So? What happened?”


    Greta added, “Yeah, details. Is he good in bed?”


    Freya stared at her screen, speechless.


    This was a front-row seat to chaos, and they were just here for the drama.


    Before she could respond, a message popped up from someone unexpected.


    “Freya, can I trouble you to look after Farrah for a while? I left a card in the mailbox at her vi—use it for any expenses she has. Spend whatever you need. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure she can marry me freely one day.” The message was from Felipe.


    After sending the message, Felipe headed straight to Kristian. He wasn’t ying around anymore. If he really wanted to love someone the right way, it was time to start acting like it.


    When he asked Kristian to teach him how to run a business, Kristian looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “What’s gotten into you?” he asked, puzzled.


    Felipe’s usual easygoing charm was gone—reced by something firmer, steadier. “I spoke to Freya yesterday about Farrah. She told me I’m not good enough for Farrah. And she’s right.”


    Kristian froze.


    It had been nearly two months since hest heard Freya’s name.


    “I want you to teach me how to manage a business,” Felipe said, his tone serious. His sharp, handsome eyes burned with purpose. “I want to show my parents—and Farrah—that I’m not just some aimless man.”


    Only by proving himself could he reject the arranged marriage they were forcing on him and earn the right to stand beside Farrah.


    “As for conditions?” Felipe added with a half-smile. “Name them. Whatever they are, I’ll ept them.”


    He meant it. Even if Kristian asked for a lifetime of unpaidbor—Felipe wouldn’t hesitate


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