Savannah’s voice echoed through the living room as she called out for Bentley. Her tone was sharp, carrying the impatience that always seemed to accompany her presence. "Bentley! Where are you?"
She traced her way down the hallway, her heels clicking against the polished floors. As she turned a corner, her eyes landed on Bentley, who was holding a towel around his neck, his bare chest still glistening with water. Her gaze shifted quickly to Nova, who stood nearby, looking tense and uncertain.
The sight of Nova in casual clothes, comfortable in Bentley’s home, made Savannah’s expression turn sour. She began to imagine the worst, wondering what kind of relationship Bentley had with this girl and if anything intimate had already transpired between them.
"What are you doing here?" Savannah'
