At that moment, Bridget arrived, inquiring about the situation. With a frown and a displeased expression, she glanced over at Freya.

Idiot, how could she let this mess fall into her lap?

With everyone gathered, Sylvia knew it was time to wrap things up.

Adopting the tone Freya often used, she said smoothly, "Freya, you'd better apologize quickly. Making a scene isn't good for you or the studio- especially since you're the one who went out for dinner and drinks with them. Right, Ms. Simpson?" Sylvia threw the question directly to Bridget.

In her past life, the two had teamed up countless times to set Sylvia up. This time, she was letting them taste their own medicine.

All eyes turned to Bridget, Rupert's fiancée, whose words carried weight.

Bridget, fearing backlash, dared not defend Freya.

With a gentle smile, she said, "Freya, apologize now. You should be more cautious in the future."

Freya stared at Bridget in disbelief, her face flushing further as her emotions contorted her expression.

Bridget shot her a warning glance.

Left with no choice, Freya clenched her fists and bowed her head. "I'm sorry."

Bridget immediately stepped forward to console the woman. "Don't be upset. She's new here; she probably just wanted to get along with the old staff but chose the wrong way. I'll have someone from my family inquire at the police station for you." The woman couldn't refuse Bridget's gesture and smiled in return. "Ms. Simpson is so generous, truly worthy of being Rupert's fiancée."

As if nothing had happened, the two women left together. The crowd slowly dispersed, casting disdainful glances at Freya.

Sylvia stepped forward to support the visibly shaken Freya, offering her comfort with the air of a loyal friend.

"Freya, are you okay? I have some ointment in my bag; let's put some on."

Freya, her eyes red with bloodshot, gripped Sylvia's hand tightly, her voice full of suspicion. "Sylvia, why did you say that? Why are you setting me up?"

Releasing Freya's hand with a frown,

Sylvia retorted, "How could you think that of me? You're the one who asked me to go to the bar with them last night. You knew they were going to drive drunk! Right, I think I also heard you saying you'd bring them to catch me, didn't you?"

Instead of offering a further explanation, Sylvia used a sharp counter-question to scare Freya.

As expected, Freya had no response, guilt flashing across her face as she let go of Sylvia's hand.

"Sylvia, I didn't... you misunderstood. I was just scared."

Scared?

So she knew fear.

Why wasn't she afraid when she was harming others?

Sylvia patted her hand nonchalantly. "Freya, I advised you to apologize because if Eloise gets wind of this,, you'll lose your internship in a

heartbeat. I thought Ms. Simpson would speak up for you, being Rupert's fiancée and all. Who wouldn't want to stay on her good side? But she wouldn't even say a word in your defense."

At that, hate flared in Freya's eyes. Sylvia saw it but pretended not to notice.

Bridget, if you can use Freya against me, why can't I use her against you?

Sylvia didn't linger on the topic, fearing it might arouse Freya's suspicion. Instead, she carefully applied the ointment to Freya's face and handed her the tube. "This is great for reducing swelling. Keep it."

Freya eyed Sylvia suspiciously, but

seeing her usual naive demeanor she decided to believe her. After all, Sylvia had been deceived by her for four years; it was unlikely she'd suspect anything now.

Just as they were finishing their heartfelt moment, Freya's phone rang. She checked the caller ID, her face tensing.

Pretending not to care, Sylvia said, "You go ahead. I've got work to do. Remember to apply the ointment."

"Okay."

Freya headed towards a secluded restroom.

Sylvia's lips curved into a smile. She was curious to see how strong the bond between Bridget and Freya really was. After all, the Freya of the past was not short on ambition.

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