"Wait up!" Freya said, "What do you mean I don't have to go home? Are you saying I should stay here?"
She couldn't quite believe what she was hearing.
"Is there a problem?" Preston's tone was indifferent as he glanced at his watch and said, "Ms. Dawson, take a look at the time. Nobody's got the time to drive you home."
"I can make my way back."
"No cabs allowed at my doorstep."
Freya frowned, asking, "What kind of rule is that?"
"You know, I've made quite a few enemies overseas. If they find out where I live, it could spell trouble. So, please, Ms. Dawson, don't make things harder for me."
When Preston said this, Freya could almost see a chilling gleam in his eye, the kind one might have after committing a cold-blooded act.
Freya suddenly found herself at a loss for words. This place was secluded. Hardly a soul passed by. It wouldn't take much effort if Preston wanted her gone.
"I... I can walk out and call a cab." Freya's voice was barely a whisper.
Preston raised an eyebrow. "If you're up for a midnight trek of over a mile, be my guest."
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Can you please convey this to the person who owns this website? Update “find me in your labyrinth” novel please...author is MIA since 12/4.........