The Devil's Good Girl-Chapter 218: Why is he so weird?

Fil tried calling Kenzo’s home number to notify Quentin about Kenzo’s situation. However, the man wasn’t answering, no matter what. Considering Quentin wasn’t well himself, she took it upon herself to go and tell him in person.

"Quentin?" she called, knocking on the door. "Quentin, are you there?"

Fil knocked and knocked, each time louder than the last, but to no avail. Stepping back, she cocked her head to the side.

"Did he leave?" she wondered with a frown. "Or did something happen to him?"

She bit her inner bottom lip, torn if she had to get in without Kenzo’s permission. She still has his spare key since Kenzo had a bad habit of locking himself out in the past. Hence, for safety and for him to stop bothering his landlord every time that happened, he gave her a spare key. Her place was only one bus stop away from here, after all.

But even when he grew past that terrible habit, she still had his spare key. They simply forgot about it.

’Quentin has a short-term memory loss,’ she thought. ’He didn’t just fall and hit his head, right?’

Fil paced back and forth in distress, glancing at the door from time to time. When her growing worry was starting to feel overwhelming, Fil rummaged through her bags for her keys. Kenzo’s spare key was hooked along with hers. When she found it, she knocked on the door one more time.

"Quentin, it’s Fil! If you don’t open up, I’m gonna get in, alright?" she announced loudly. "Kenzo can’t go home, so if you..."

Suddenly, she trailed off as she caught a familiar figure in her peripheral. Turning her head, her eyes fell on Quentin’s tall and slender figure.

"Goodness." She heaved a sigh of relief, watching him close the distance between them. "Quentin, where have you been? I’ve been knocking since god knows how long. I was worried sick."

Quentin didn’t respond and just stared at her curiosity.

"Anyway, Kenzo can’t make it home tonight. He’s in the hospital and he’ll have to stay there overnight," she explained in one breath, looking up at him and then furrowing her brows.

His expression remained the same. His eyes swirled with curiosity, studying her so openly. She said this yesterday, but the way Quentin looked at her made her uncomfortable. It wasn’t a look of lust or admiration like the ones she often received since her glow-up.

The way he looked at her deep in the eyes felt as though he wasn’t just staring at her face. It felt like he was staring straight at her soul. Fil gulped a mouthful, trying to ignore the inexplicable feeling in her heart.

"That’s... that’s all I came here to say." She stuttered. "I — I got to go."

With that being said, Fil offered him a weird smile and then quickly walked past him. But after five large steps away from him, she stopped and looked back.

"Did you... did you remember anything now?" she asked, staring at Quentin’s broad back.

She didn’t know why, but Quentin didn’t even look back at her. But she felt like he was still staring at her. He didn’t answer her question and simply walked toward the door, opening it without putting in the key.

’Oh...’ Fil mentally cleared her throat. ’It was open.’

That made her a little embarrassed. She could’ve gotten in without a problem. If only she did, she wouldn’t worry too much.

’That guy...’ Fil idled, staring at the shut door. ’... why is he so weird?’

It wasn’t like Quentin was mute. But he wouldn’t even answer a simple question. Even so, Fil already did what she had to do, and that was to inform Quentin about his current guardian. But as she resumed her steps, she stopped once more.

"What would he eat for dinner?" She pondered about it before she took out her phone and walked back to Kenzo’s apartment. Knocking, she said, "Quentin, I —"

Fil flinched a little when the door suddenly opened the second her knuckles touched the door. Looking up, she cleared her throat under his gaze.

"I ordered you some delivery for dinner," she said. "They’ll come here in a bit. I just thought I should tell you that since I know Kenzo isn’t the type to cook extra food. He doesn’t even know how to cook."

Quentin’s reaction was the same, fluttering his long lashes ever so slowly.

"Well." She laughed awkwardly. "That’s all I want to say. Anyway, I’ll go now. The food is already paid and if you need anything, my number is on the home telephone. That’s all. I’ll stop bothering you now. Goodnight."

With that being said, Fil quickly turned on her heel and took a large step away. She almost sprinted her way back, but she didn’t want to make it obvious he was making her uncomfortable. After all, the man wasn’t doing anything else aside from staring at her. He hadn’t done anything or said anything or tried anything out of line. She didn’t want to look like overreacting and that she was picking on a poor man they almost killed.

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Fil sighed for the umpteenth time as she walked to her apartment. All she could think about was Quentin on her way home. It was a little concerning when she should be thinking of something else or someone else who was more important than that man.

However, she couldn’t help it.

The second Fil got in her unit, her phone briefly rang. Seeing Elise’s name on the sender, she was reminded of the promise she told her that day.

"Right," she sighed. "Why am I thinking of someone else when my plate is full already?"

She might have lost her mind for a second after rushing Kenzo to the hospital.

"Since Marcus released his hostage, I have to end everything about us once and for all." Fil didn’t bother replying to Elise as she called Michael. The phone rang for a long time, but the man didn’t answer.

"Is he sleeping?" she wondered, calling him again but still no answer. "It’s too late for him to still be sleeping and too early to be at a party."

Fil rubbed her chin for a while, ringing him for the third time. When Michael still didn’t answer, Fil pondered for a while.

"I need to be done with this," she told herself. "And he’ll help me."

With the thought that she wanted to escape Vincent and Marcus’s delusion as soon as possible, Fil briefly rested before changing into a party dress. The good thing about Michael was that the man practically partied every single night. It was easy to find him since he only frequented the high-end nightclubs.