Chapter 285

“Odalys, where are we going?” Freya asked, her steps quick as she stayed close to Odalys, worried about being left behind.

“How about the Stewart Villa? Or we could go to Francis and Selah's apartment?” Odalys suggested.

Freya immediately shook her head at the mention of the Stewart Villa. “If I go back there, Edie will drive me crazy!” she exclaimed. “She already doesn't want me involved with the Stewart family, so Francis's place is better.”

“Does Francis’s apartment have any empty rooms?” Freya asked curiously. She’d never been to the apartment, which Odalys rented.

“It does,” Odalys replied. She was generous and didn't mind the extra expense.

After going downstairs, they drove to Francis and Selah's apartment, a high-security complex with a low occupancy rate.

“Wow, how did you get in here? I’ve never seen any advertisements for it,” Freya said, her eyes lighting up as she looked at the building.

Odalys smiled but didn't answer. They entered the elevator and, reaching the 19th floor, Odalys punched in the passcode.

The door opened with a soft click, revealing Selah on the sofa, wearing a face mask. Francis was also lounging, both reviewing a script. Hearing the door, they jumped up in surprise.

“Who’s that?” Selah asked, instinctively grabbing a nearby fruit knife. Seeing Freya and Odalys with their bags, she lowered it.

“Odalys, what are you doing here?” Selah exclaimed, excited.

Odalys looked at Selah and Francis, who were still holding their scripts. “I brought Freya to stay a couple of days. I thought you were asleep, so I didn’t text you. I didn’t realize you were still up!”

Francis put down the script and approached them.

“We were doing a table read. We’re almost finished,” he explained. The script was captivating; no wonder it was an award contender.

“Okay, which room is available?” Odalys asked.

The apartment had four bedrooms, each with its own bathroom.

“The two front rooms are empty,” Selah said, hurrying to open the doors.

Freya scanned the apartment. “This apartment is really nice!” she exclaimed. It was even bigger than her own. She sighed softly.

“I think so too. It’s rare to find a four-bedroom with en-suite bathrooms, and the kitchen’s well-placed. You get a great view of the square,” Selah added.

Freya took one last look around and entered one of the rooms. After making the bed, she sat down, feeling a new sense of energy.

“Odalys, how about I stay here? It’s more lively, and it’s safer to have people around,” Freya said. She didn't need much privacy.

“If you’re okay with it, sure. The room’s not being used anyway,” Odalys replied.

Freya immediately began making the bed and hanging her clothes.

Selah watched them settle in, too polite to ask many questions.

“She’s having some issues with her house. We were supposed to stay there but couldn't, so we moved in here last minute,” Odalys explained. Selah was stunned. Francis, hearing this, quickly approached.

“Her house has problems? Is it haunted?” Francis asked excitedly. He loved horror movies, and a bit of mystery was intriguing.

“It’s not that dramatic,” Odalys replied. “The previous owner has fixated on her and is trying to drain her luck.”

“That’s why, despite becoming famous, her opportunities keep vanishing. Her recent misfortunes stem from this,” Odalys explained briefly, omitting Edie’s involvement. The less people knew about the Stewart family, the better.

“That’s awful. Can we find out who did it? We can keep an eye out,” Selah said, concerned.

Francis glanced at his phone, surprised. He showed it to Freya. “Freya’s manager just died in a car accident. It’s trending.”

“What?! No way!” Selah exclaimed. Though they didn’t know Freya’s manager personally, they were aware of her.

“Freya, do you want to go to the hospital?” Selah asked.

After packing, Freya sat heavily on the bed. The news saddened her momentarily, but then she remembered the doll with her birthdate in her wardrobe—a clear attempt to harm her. Such a person didn't deserve her emotional energy. She’d had a good relationship with her manager, but now she knew the manager was Edie's pawn.

“Let the company handle it,” Freya said firmly.

Selah hesitated. “But she was your manager. Won't people think you’re cold-hearted?”

Freya spoke quietly but firmly. “She put a doll with my birthdate in my wardrobe. I just found it while packing.”

Silence fell.

Selah blinked, stunned. “She put that in your room? Why?”

Francis, deep in thought, spoke. “The entertainment industry is chaotic. Managers don’t always have your back. My manager tried to harm me, set me up with someone else to become my girlfriend, terminate my contract, and even harvest my organs.”

“Not all managers are good people. Freya’s decision makes perfect sense. If it were me, I wouldn’t go either,” Francis said empathetically.

Selah nodded. “You’re right. I’d be scared too. Even if I went to the hospital, I don’t know what trouble I’d attract.”

It was past 1 AM, and the news had made everyone restless.

“Are you hungry? How about a late-night snack?” Francis suggested.

Selah patted her stomach. “Sounds good.”

Freya suggested barbecue. Odalys agreed. Francis ordered some, and forty minutes later, it arrived. Selah grabbed beers from the fridge.

“Let’s have a drink,” she said, offering them cans.

They enjoyed the barbecue.

“So, how’s the script going? Any characters you like?” Odalys asked.

Freya looked at the script. Selah pointed, “Every character is good. The lead female role would be perfect for you, Freya. If Stellan played the male lead, it would be even better.”