Turning Of The Tide (Natalie and Trevon) novel Chapter 72

Having just finished taking a shower, Natalie sat on the bed, getting ready to watch an anatomy video tutorial. However, just as the video started playing for two seconds, she heard the sound of an engine coming from downstairs. A surge of curiosity and temptation welled inside her, leaving her torn between whether or not to inquire about the drugging incident.

After some consideration, Natalie decided to seek clarification.

With a swift motion, she leaped off the bed, hastily snatching a jacket, and swiftly exited through the door, propelled by an unwavering resolve.

Natalie collided with a man whose eyes emanated a chilling, icy gaze as she rushed out. The sheer intensity of his glare left no room for doubt as anger surged within him.

For a brief moment, Natalie locked eyes with him, a sense of perplexity washing over her. She struggled to comprehend what she could have done to incite such unrelenting anger from this man throughout the day.

Disregarding the presence of the woman who had just emerged, Trevon raised his foot, poised to take a step toward his room.

"Do you know who drugged the drinks at the Foster family's home?" Unable to contain the curiosity that was consuming her, Natalie finally voiced the question.

The wait persisted, each minute and second stretching on, and still, the man offered no immediate response.

Yet, deep within her heart, a fragile, delicate flicker of hope persevered.

Amidst a brief silence that lingered for approximately 10 seconds, the man shifted his towering frame, his gaze laced with a subtle touch of arrogance. "Are you accusing me?" he questioned, his tone tinged with insolence.

Natalie contemplated his response, silently musing that she was not accusing him. She intended to seek clarification and find closure for herself in the situation.

"Accusing? What right do I have to accuse?" Natalie thought.

Maintaining a composed demeanor, Natalie calmly responded, her expression unaltered. "No, I merely wished to know if Mr. Wilson knows who was responsible for the incident."

Closing the distance between them, Trevon towered over her, casting a condescending gaze from his elevated position. "Why does it matter if I know or not? Aren't you close with Edward Landor? Don't the two of you have pizza together all the time? Why don't you seek his assistance in your investigation?" he scorned.

Taken aback by his words, Natalie's eyes widened in surprise. "Did you see us?" she inquired.

A thought crossed her mind, but Natalie could not believe that Trevon would have someone monitor her every move.

He would not waste any time on her.

However, Natalie had not engaged in any secretive or shameful activities. The pizza gathering had involved four individuals, not solely her and Edward, and no further explanation was unnecessary.

As the image sent by Mia flashed through his mind, Trevon's eyes grew shadowed, and a frigid aura seemed to radiate from his core, enveloping his entire being.

Trevon retorted, "Do you truly think I would lower myself to visit such a tasteless place? Where do you find the audacity to assume I would even consider seeking you out in such a place?"

On a fateful day in the future, Trevon would find his own words haunting him, slapping him in the face with undeniable truth.

Collecting herself and determined to remain composed, Natalie took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "Mr. Wilson, allow me to ask once more. Do you know who was behind the drugging incident? As for my decision to seek Edward Landor's assistance, it is a personal matter, and I am under no obligation to divulge every detail to you," she asserted firmly.

As Trevon observed the urgency in the woman's gaze, driven by her relentless pursuit of the truth, his eyes took on a slightly complex expression, their color appearing murky and uncertain. A faint trace of suspicion crept into his mind. "Has someone approached you?" he asked.

"Please, can you provide me with a direct answer?" Natalie implored, her patience wearing thin as she grew weary of the continuous back-and-forth.

He avoided her gaze and moved his lips hesitantly. "I... I know," he finally muttered.

Having finally obtained the desired answer, Natalie had no intention of prolonging the conversation any further. Cutting him off abruptly, she spared no time for additional words. "Okay, thank you for your response, Mr. Wilson. Goodnight," she swiftly declared, bringing the conversation to an immediate close.

Indeed, the demise of one's heart can sometimes be accomplished with a mere few words or sentences.

Just before entering, Natalie abruptly halted her footsteps. "I will be moving out tomorrow. As for explaining the situation to Mr. Theo, I will handle it personally. No clause in the agreement obligates me to cohabit with you for three months. If Mr. Theo has imposed a time constraint for granting your desires, I will take full responsibility. I assure you, Mr. Wilson, there is no need for concern," she declared.

As her words hung in the air, Natalie did not wait for Trevon's response. She swiftly entered her room, securing the door behind her, effectively shutting him from further interaction.

Trevon stood outside her door and did not depart right away. Instead, he lingered there, lost in contemplation for several minutes, before eventually retracing his steps and returning to the solitude of his room.

Upon returning to his room, Trevon veered from his usual routine of taking a shower.

Instead, he instinctively reached into his pocket, retrieved his phone, and swiftly dialed a number. "What did you tell her?" he urgently inquired of Jim/

On the other end of the line, Jim sounded perplexed. "Mr. Wilson, what do you mean?" he asked in confusion.

Realizing his mistake, Trevon quickly corrected himself. "Did you not call her?"

"Who?" Jim's voice echoed with genuine confusion as he struggled to grasp the context of the conversation.

Exasperated, Trevon squeezed the bridge of his nose, trying to quell his mounting frustration. "Jim Hawk, have you been overindulging in brain supplements lately? Are you out of your mind?" he retorted sharply.

After being scolded, Jim gained a sentence of clarity. "Oh, you're referring to Mrs. Wilson. No, I haven't. I haven't contacted Mrs. Wilson recently," he clarified.

"No, there's something off about that statement," Jim pondered. "But, well, what I said is true."