Chapter 158

Chapter 158

"Coming," Abigail called back. She put down what she was holding and headed to Paxton's room.

She stayed with Paxton through his bath, then made her way back to the master bedroom.

The whole time — even when she walked past the couch — she didn't glance at it once.

Abigail had just stepped into the room when Trent came out to the living room.

He'd just wrapped up some work and came out to get some water. That's when he spotted the suit sitting on the couch.

Curious, Trent walked over, checked the label, and noticed the card sitting next to it.

He figured Abigail must have bought it.

But the moment he read what was on the card, his expression shifted to one of pure disgust.

Without a second thought, he tossed the brand-new, expensive suit straight into the trash.

The box too.

After handling the package, Trent headed back to his room, then stopped and called for Ava.

"Ava, take this trash out when you get a chance — and get it as far away as possible."

Ava looked at the suit Trent had thrown away, a little confused.

It looked brand new. Why would he want to throw it out?

She was curious enough to just ask.

Trent didn't mind. He answered casually, "Abigail didn't buy this. Just get rid of it. If she sees it, it'll only upset her."

Her feelings mattered more to him than some suit.

A suit was nothing to him, anyway.

His closet was already full of them. He didn't need anyone else worrying about that.

"Didn't Mrs. Smith buy it? She was the one who brought in the package earlier — I figured it was hers."

Ava said it with a puzzled look, then turned to go take out the trash.

But when Trent heard that, something in him sank.

"So you're saying Abigail already saw it?"

Ava nodded, looking at him like she didn't quite follow. "Mrs. Smith took one look and just left it there on the couch."

"Alright, got it. Go ahead and throw it out — make sure she doesn't see it again."

Trent gave the instruction quickly and didn't even stop for water. He went straight to the master bedroom and knocked on the door.

But when Abigail heard him, she just said flatly, "I'm already in bed. Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow."

Trent glanced at his watch. It was still early. He knew she was lying.

She must have seen what was in the package and gotten upset.

He sighed and tried to explain through the door. "Abigail, I honestly had nothing to do with that suit. I never gave her our address."

Abigail's response was just as flat as before.

"I'm resting. Nothing urgent. We can talk tomorrow."

Same words again. Trent tried the doorknob — it was locked.

In the end, he had no choice but to let it go.

"Okay. Get some rest. Goodnight."

He waited after saying that, but there was nothing but silence from inside.

Thinking back to that suit, Trent felt a flash of anger.

He'd never reached out to Serenity. So how did she get their home address?

And then she had the nerve to slip that card inside — like she was trying to make Abigail think something was going on.

The more he thought about it, the more irritated he got.

On his way downstairs, he saw Ava dressed to go out with the trash. He stopped her.

"Ava, hold on a second."

He walked over quickly and checked the sender's information on the package.

Then he pulled out his phone and dialed.

"Okay, Mr. Smith. I'll go take out the trash then."

Trent nodded at Ava, already listening to the line ring as he headed back to the guest room.

It only rang a few times before someone picked up.

"Hello? Who's this?"

The voice on the other end sounded lazy and relaxed.

Trent recognized it immediately. It was the woman who'd bumped into him earlier — Serenity.

"Ms. Powell?"

The moment she heard Trent's voice, Serenity — who'd been lounging on her bed with a face mask on, scrolling through her phone — sat straight up.

She adjusted her tone before answering.

"Mr. Smith. It's pretty late — what can I do for you?"

Trent's patience was already running thin, and the way she was talking made it worse.

"How did you get my home address?" he asked, his voice cold and direct. "I don't believe we've had any contact."

Serenity's stomach dropped, but she tried to play it off.

"Oh, Mr. Smith, I've seen you in the news so many times — you really left an impression. And seeing you in person today, I have to say, you're even more impressive than I imagined. Tall, handsome—"

Trent thought of the card and felt his stomach turn.

"I don't care where you saw anything. This is the first and last time."

His voice went colder, with a clear edge of contempt.

"If you ever interfere in my personal life again, I won't think twice about making you regret it."

"Mr. Smith, a man like you must have women falling for you all the time—"

She was trying to get closer, but Trent wasn't having any of it.

"Don't try whatever you pull on other men on me. Stay away. I have a wife and a child, and I don't want anyone messing with that."

He was about to hang up when he paused and added one last thing, almost as an afterthought.

"Don't send anything to my house again. Don't do anything that makes my wife question me. And that suit you had delivered? I threw it in the trash."

It landed like a slap — cutting straight through whatever fantasy she'd been spinning.

Before Serenity could say another word, Trent hung up.

She sat there listening to the dial tone, but instead of feeling embarrassed, a small, amused smile crossed her face.

She'd spilled that drink on Trent on purpose today — trying to manufacture a reason to meet him. The timing just hadn't been great, with Abigail right there.

To keep things going, she'd bought him a new suit, gotten his address from Bianca, and had it sent over.

But no matter what she tried, Trent wasn't playing along.

The sting of rejection was real — but it only made her want him more.

A man like Trent deserved someone like her.

Who else could possibly be a better match for him?

Serenity didn't think much of Abigail. And Bianca? Even less so.