"Wait. You didn't call Preston, so how did he show up to bail you out so quickly?" Kieran asked, his voice laced with disbelief.
Freya was puzzled. "How would I know? Mr. Sutton, shouldn't you ask Mr. Tyler that question?"
"Fine, let me ask you this," Kieran pressed on, "when you called me, was it before or after things went south?"
"It was before..."
"And after things went sideways, why didn't you try calling me? Or find some way to get in touch?"
"My phone wasn't with me!" Freya couldn't grasp Kieran's line of reasoning.
Just moments ago, she got kidnapped, and managing to escape on her own was no small feat. What was Kieran's deal?
"Even your good-for-nothing brother knew to drop my name to scare off the bad guys the moment trouble hit. And you, Freya? Your first instinct was to make a run for it! Did it ever cross your mind to reach out to me?"
"Mr. Sutton, my first instinct is to get myself to safety when trouble hits. Why should I put my life in someone else's hands when I can protect myself? What if you decide not to help me? Would I wait around to die?"
Upon hearing Freya's words, Kieran's expression turned grim. "What are you implying? That I would just leave you on your own?"
"It's definitely possible." Freya recalled her past life when she naively entrusted her safety to Kieran. When she called him in her hour of need, Kieran refused to pay a ransom of five million, leading to her brutal demise at the hands of her captors.
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