Franklin sauntered into Theodore's office as if he owned the place, his posture relaxed, and his trademark smirk plastered across his face. Without waiting for an invitation, he dropped into a chair, leaning back casually. "Hey, bro," he began with mock concern. "I heard you kicked Bella out of your life. Is that true?"
Theodore's eyes shot up, a cold glare locking onto Franklin. His muscles tensed, every instinct urging him to wipe the smug grin off Franklin's face, but he swallowed the anger rising in his throat. "I don't have time for gossip, Franklin. Why don't you go find your little group of party friends and leave me alone?"
Franklin chuckled, unfazed. "Oh, trust me, I'd love to. But you know how my dear mother is—constantly nagging me to focus on work. So, here I am, being the good son, offering to help."
"I don't need your help," Theodore hissed through clenched teeth. "If you've got nothing better to do, get out."
