Quentin stayed behind to smooth things over with the remaining designers while Jensen escorted Rebekah out of The Victory Chop House.
"What were you doing here?" Rebekah asked, breaking the awkward silence. She knew he was friends with Quentin, but it still seemed strange for him to be at an event like this.
Jensen didn't answer her question directly. He turned to face her. "I came to ask you what you meant by what you said at the hospital."
Rebekah remembered their conversation. *This is my family's business. Please don't get involved.*
"I meant what I said," she replied, her tone even. "This is my family's business. Your involvement will only cause unnecessary trouble."
Jensen let out a short, humorless laugh. He had suspected this was her reason for pushing him away, but it still stung. "You think Benjamin will misunderstand our relationship and it will ruin your happy home?" His voice was sharp, and Rebekah looked at him in surprise.
"Of course not…"
"Or do you think he'll get rid of me the same way he dealt with the person who gave false testimony against you? Is that it? You think he'll run me out of The Capital?"
Rebekah's eyes widened. "How… how did you know?" She was shocked that he knew her fears, that he even knew about the false witness in her case. How did he know so much about her?
They stood under a streetlight, the yellow glow casting shadows on his face, obscuring his expression. "Rebekah," he said, his voice laced with disappointment, "I thought we were friends."
He sounded like a wounded puppy, and she felt a pang of guilt. "I…"
"You helped me when I was abroad. I've never forgotten that. Helping you now is just me returning the favor."


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