RED NOTES AND KISSES
Chapter 127: FRIDA - 127

Chapter 127: FRIDA: Chapter 127

The wind was brisk as Frida and Laz stepped out into the cool night air. They didn’t speak at first, the tension between them palpable. Laz moved with a slight limp, his exhaustion evident, but he kept up with Frida’s determined pace.

"Where are we going?" Laz finally asked, breaking the silence.

"Back to the party," Frida said without hesitation. Her voice was firm, but her mind raced with doubts.

Laz raised an eyebrow. "I thought we were escaping?"

"We are," Frida replied. "But first, I need to confront Evelyn. If I don’t do this now, she’ll hunt me down and destroy me."

"And what’s the plan when we get there?"

Frida hesitated. She hadn’t figured out the details yet, but she wasn’t about to admit that. "We’ll improvise," she said, offering a weak smile.

Laz groaned. "Improvising got me beaten to a pulp last time."

Frida stopped abruptly, turning to face him. Her expression softened as she placed a hand on his arm. "I’m sorry, Laz. For everything. I never meant for you to get hurt."

He shrugged, trying to play it off, but there was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. "I’m used to it. Comes with the territory."

Frida frowned. "Well, not anymore. If we’re going to do this, we’re doing it together. No more taking risks for me, okay?"

Laz smirked, a hint of his usual bravado returning. "Deal."

---

The party was still in full swing when they arrived. The grand estate was bathed in golden light, the sound of laughter and clinking glasses spilling out into the night. Frida felt a pang of anxiety as they approached the entrance, but she pushed it aside.

The butler at the door gave them a suspicious look but said nothing as they slipped inside. Frida straightened her posture, smoothing the fabric of her dress as she walked into the main hall. She scanned the room, her eyes locking onto Evelyn, who was engaged in conversation with Mr. Hemsworth.

Evelyn’s gaze flicked toward Frida, her expression hardening as their eyes met. She excused herself and strode over, her movements as precise and calculated as ever.

"Frida," Evelyn said coolly. "I wasn’t expecting you to rejoin us."

"Surprise," Frida said with a forced smile.

Evelyn’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t reply. Instead, she looked Laz up and down, her lip curling in disdain. "And who is this? Another one of your... distractions?"

Frida bristled at the comment but kept her tone even. "This is Laz. He’s with me."

Evelyn’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—disapproval, perhaps, or amusement. "How charming," she said dryly.

Frida crossed her arms, refusing to be intimidated. "I need to talk to you. Alone."

Evelyn raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Very well. Follow me."

She led Frida to a side room, leaving Laz behind. The room was smaller and more intimate, with dark wood paneling and a roaring fireplace. Evelyn closed the door behind them, turning to face Frida with a look of cold amusement.

"What is it you want, Frida? Another tantrum? Another desperate attempt to embarrass me?"

Frida took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. "I want you to back off. No more forcing me into engagements, no more blackmail. I’m done playing your games."

Evelyn laughed, the sound cold and mirthless. "Oh, Frida. You’ve always been so dramatic. Do you really think you have any power here?"

"I do," Frida said, surprising even herself with the conviction in her voice. "I’m not afraid of you anymore."

Evelyn’s smile faded, her eyes narrowing. "You should be. You’ve spent your entire life under my protection, living off my generosity. Do you really think you can survive without me?"

"I don’t need you," Frida said, her voice rising. "I never did. You’ve controlled me with your lies and manipulation, but I’m done. I’m taking my life back."

Evelyn’s expression darkened, her composure slipping for the first time. "You ungrateful little—"

Before she could finish, the door burst open, and Laz stepped inside.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said, his tone casual, "but I couldn’t help overhearing."

Evelyn glared at him. "Get out."

"No," Laz said, his voice firm. "Frida’s right. You don’t own her. And if you try to ruin her life, you’ll have to deal with me."

Evelyn sneered. "And who are you? A street rat with delusions of grandeur? You’re nothing."

Laz didn’t flinch. "Maybe. But I’m not afraid of you. And neither is Frida."

Frida felt a surge of gratitude and admiration for Laz. For the first time, she truly believed they could stand up to Evelyn together.

---

The confrontation didn’t end there. Evelyn’s threats grew more vicious, but Frida and Laz held their ground. By the time they left the room, Frida felt a sense of liberation she hadn’t felt in years.

The rest of the party passed in a blur. Frida and Laz avoided the guests, slipping out as soon as they could. They walked in silence for a while, the cool night air refreshing after the tension of the evening.

"So, what now?" Laz asked, breaking the silence.

Frida smiled, her first genuine smile in what felt like forever. "Now we start over. Together."

---

The next few weeks were a whirlwind. Frida and Laz moved into a small apartment on the outskirts of the city, far from Evelyn’s reach. It wasn’t much, but it was theirs.

Frida found a job at a local clinic, using her medical training to help those in need. It wasn’t the glamorous life she’d grown up with, but it was fulfilling in a way she hadn’t expected.

Laz, meanwhile, found work at a nearby garage, his skills with cars earning him the respect of his coworkers.

They settled into a routine, their days busy but rewarding. In the evenings, they would sit on their tiny balcony, watching the sunset and dreaming about the future.

For the first time in her life, Frida felt free.

---

But freedom came with its challenges. Evelyn wasn’t one to give up easily, and her influence reached further than Frida had anticipated. Rumors began to spread—about Frida’s "disgrace," about Laz’s "criminal past."

Frida tried to ignore them, but they weighed on her. She knew Evelyn was behind it, but proving it was another matter.

One evening, as they sat on the balcony, Frida turned to Laz. "We need to fight back," she said, her voice resolute.

Laz looked at her, his expression thoughtful. "What do you have in mind?"

Frida hesitated, then smiled. "I have an idea."

---

The plan was risky, but Frida was determined. With Laz’s help, she began gathering evidence of Evelyn’s corruption—financial records, emails, anything they could find.

It wasn’t easy. Evelyn was careful, her tracks well-covered. But Frida was relentless, her determination fueled by years of frustration and anger.

As the weeks passed, they pieced together a picture of Evelyn’s empire—her connections, her deals, her secrets. It was enough to bring her down, but they needed a way to expose it.

Frida turned to Laz. "Do you still have that friend in the media?"

Laz nodded. "Yeah. Why?"

"We’re going to blow this wide open," Frida said, her eyes shining with determination.

---

The story broke a week later. The headlines were brutal, exposing Evelyn’s corruption and manipulation for the world to see.

The fallout was immediate. Evelyn’s reputation was shattered, her influence diminished. She tried to fight back, but the evidence was overwhelming.

Frida watched it all unfold with a mix of relief and satisfaction. For the first time, she felt like she was in control of her life.

Laz wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they sat on the balcony, watching the sunset. "You did it," he said, his voice filled with pride.

"We did it," Frida corrected, leaning into him.

Frida’s phone buzzed on the coffee table, its screen lighting up with an unknown number. Laz glanced at her, eyebrows raised in silent question.

"Another reporter?" he asked, half-joking.

Frida hesitated, her thumb hovering over the screen. After a moment’s thought, she picked it up and answered. "Hello?"

The voice on the other end was low and composed, with an edge that made her stomach tighten. "Frida Michaels?"

"Yes. Who’s calling?"

"This is Detective Cole. I believe you’ve made some powerful enemies recently. We need to talk."

Frida exchanged a wary glance with Laz. "What’s this about?"

"Evelyn Michaels," the detective said bluntly. "I have reason to believe she’s planning a counterattack, and it’s going to get ugly. I suggest you meet me at the station—soon."

The line went dead.

Frida lowered the phone, her pulse quickening. "Detective Cole. He says Evelyn’s not done."

Laz frowned. "Why would he call you directly? Sounds like a setup."

"Maybe," Frida admitted. "But if it’s not, we can’t ignore it."

The station smelled of stale coffee and photocopier toner. Frida felt a shiver of apprehension as she and Laz followed a uniformed officer down a narrow hallway. Detective Cole was waiting in a small, cluttered office. He was in his late forties, with a face weathered by years of hard cases and a sharp, calculating gaze.

"Miss Michaels," he said, gesturing to the two chairs opposite his desk. "And you must be Mr. Lazaro."

"Laz," he corrected, his tone guarded.

Cole ignored him, focusing on Frida. "I won’t waste your time. Evelyn’s been digging into your past. She’s trying to paint you as an ungrateful opportunist, a fraud who betrayed her ’benevolent’ aunt for attention and money. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg."

Frida leaned forward. "What else?"

"She’s attempting to leverage her remaining connections to bury you legally. False accusations, fabricated evidence—anything to discredit you and neutralize your recent victory."

Laz scoffed. "Typical Evelyn. Why tell us this? Why help us?"

Cole leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "Let’s just say Evelyn’s no stranger to this precinct. Her power doesn’t extend as far as she thinks, and I don’t appreciate people like her bending the law for personal vendettas."

Frida folded her arms. "So what’s your angle?"

"I want her stopped," Cole said simply. "And I think you’re the only one who can do it. But you’ll need to move quickly."