“Hurry up!” Kristian pressed, a sense of urgency lacing his tone. Gerard didn’t hesitate. He bolted from the car and raced toward Freya, determined to fulfill his task.
Meanwhile, he couldn’t fathom why Kristian couldn’t just obtain Freya’s apartment number himself, instead of concocting such a clumsy excuse to send him in his stead.
It took ten minutes before Gerard made his way back.
He promptly relayed Freya’s floor and apartment number to Kristian. Kristian’s expression remained unreadable, his face set in stone as he directed Gerard to drive to the office and begin preparing the necessary documents for the business trip.
Freya was fully aware that Gerard had been sent to tail her all the way to her apartment on Kristian’s command. She understood Kristian’s underlying fear: he was worried she might flee and avoid finalizing their divorce, which would tie his hands from being open about his relationship with Ashley.
She avoided confronting him, channeling her energy into meticulously organizing her belongings.
An hour whisked by, and with everything neatly arranged, she was on the verge of ordering lunch when a sudden phone call interrupted her. It was from her father. Without a moment’s hesitation, she dismissed the call.
Yet, almost immediately, the phone rang again.
Normally, one hang-up was enough; it was an unspoken boundary in their strained relationship, a silent acknowledgment of mutual distaste. The phone trembled persistently on the table, its vibrations echoing in the quiet room.
Freya watched, her emotions tangled as she debated picking up. With a resigned sigh, she finally answered, her voice dripping with disinterest, “What is it now?”
“Sheila had an accident,” Hugh’s strained reply came, his voice raw with emotion.
Those words sent a shockwave through Freya’s core, scattering her thoughts like leaves in the wind.
She couldn’t recall hanging up or how she left the apartment. The next thing she knew, she was in the back of a taxi, the cityscape blurring past as they sped toward the airport.
Her heart pounded as Hugh’s words replayed in her mind – Sheila’s arm was fractured, her head was bleeding, and she was unconscious at the hospital.
Sheila Briggs wasn’t just her younger sister, she was her anchor, the one constant in her life after their mother’s passing.
“Please, make it fast; it’s urgent,” Freya pleaded to the taxi driver, her voice quivering with urgency as her mind raced with worry for Sheila.
When Freya arrived at the airport, the clock had already struck half past twelve.
The next flight from Jeucwell to Alerith departed at two in the afternoon. Leaping from the car, she dashed to the counter, desperately inquiring about potential cancellations.
All online tickets had vanished, leaving her only the hope of a last-minute opening.
But life seldom unfolded according to plan.
Just then, two figures materialized behind her.
A voice – steady yet laced with frost – cut through the air. “Already planning to escape right after filing for divorce?”
Freya froze mid-breath.
Turning slowly, she faced Kristian in his impeccable formal attire, Gerard hovering at his side.
“I’m terribly sorry, ma’am, but today’s flight to Alerith has no available seats,” the staff member explained with practiced courtesy. “If your matter isn’t urgent, perhaps consider tomorrow morning’s eight o’clock departure.”
“No, thank you,” Freya declined softly.
With planes full and trains booked, driving remained her only option, yet the distance between Jeucwell and Alerith stretched dauntingly before her.
Clutching her documents, she walked toward the exit, her heart heavier than it had ever felt.
“Cancel one ticket for the two o’clock flight to Alerith,” Kristian instructed the staff member calmly, noting her urgency.
Gerard’s brow furrowed in confusion. “If you cancel, who will handle the meeting?”
Kristian’s eyes never left Freya’s retreating form. “Who said I’m canceling?”
Gerard paused, comprehension dawning across his features.
His gaze darted between Freya’s still figure and Kristian’s resolute profile, embarrassment coloring his expression.
“Your identification, please,” requested the staff member professionally.
At Kristian’s subtle nod, Gerard surrendered his ticket and documents, which the staff processed with efficiency. The staff member then beckoned Freya back.
When the ticket passed into her hands, Freya’s emotions tangled within her.
“Thank you,” she murmured, keenly aware that Kristian had orchestrated this cancellation specifically for her.
“Unnecessary,” Kristian responded with characteristic detachment, retrieving the briefcase from Gerard’s grasp. “Once we’re airborne, you can explain your attempted escape.”
Freya offered no rebuttal; her spirit lacked the energy.
Her thoughts remained fixated on the person still under the surgeon’s knife, worry etching itself deeper into her heart with each passing moment.
Kristian observed her distraction and discreetly messaged Gerard.
“Arrive in Alerith by noon tomorrow.”
“Understood,” came Gerard’s swift reply.
At precisely two o’clock, the aircraft lifted into the sky.
Freya sat across the aisle from Kristian.
“What draws you to Alerith?” Kristian inquired, his penetrating gaze studying her.
“A family emergency. Someone’s hospitalized, and I need to visit,” Freya answered truthfully, withholding nothing.
Kristian considered this briefly before suggesting, “Would you like me to accompany you?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Freya declined.
“Which medical facility?” Kristian pressed.
“I have no idea too,” Freya admitted honestly.
The news had crashed into her world without warning.
Upon hearing about Sheila’s unconscious state and blood loss, she had bolted – seeking no details, asking no questions – driven solely by the need to return quickly.
“After landing, I’ll join you,” Kristian declared with finality, brooking no opposition. “Discover which hospital.”
Freya persisted in her refusal. “I said there’s no need.”
“I wasn’t asking.” Kristian’s gaze hardened to ice as he stated, “Since I’m traveling to Alerith with you, a visit is only appropriate.”
Freya said nothing.
She had already formulated a plan to vanish the moment they touched down.
For the remainder of the flight, she closed her eyes to rest. During these quiet hours, Kristian cast occasional glances her way, observing the weariness and concern etched across her features. He felt an unexpected impulse to smooth away the worried crease between her brows, to grant her peaceful slumber.
Three hours later, the aircraft glided to a stop in Alerith.
Their first-class status afforded them priority disembarkation.
Freya and Kristian exited swiftly. Near the airport’s main doors, Kristian noticed her repeatedly checking her phone and inquired, “Have you found out which hospital?”
“Still investigating,” Freya replied.
“Very well.”
“I need to visit the restroom,” Freya announced, slipping her phone into her pocket with practiced casualness, her expression betraying nothing.
Kristian perceived no warning signs and nodded his assent.
Thirty minutes passed before a representative from his branch office who had arrived to collect him ventured, “Mr. Shaw, half an hour has elapsed.”
Kristian paused, suddenly realizing Freya’s restroom visit had extended far beyond reasonable duration.
He retrieved her number from his contacts and placed a call. The connection terminated after a single ring.
Before he could attempt a second call, a message from Freya materialized on his screen. “I’ve departed. Thank you for the ticket.”
Kristian’s expression darkened as realization dawned. “Freya, you truly are something else!”
“Sir?” The manager’s anxiety was palpable.
“To the company,” Kristian responded icily, his command distilled to just three words.
Once settled in the vehicle, contemplating Freya’s calculated disappearance, frustration and anger surged through him.
He decisively opened his email application, entered a specific recipient address, and began composing. “I need comprehensive information about Freya Shaw from Alerith. Her photograph is attached. Name your price for complete details.”
This message was intended for a hacker he had encountered online at nineteen.
Their communication was infrequent, but when either faced challenges, they unhesitatingly provided assistance. Considerable time had passed since their last exchange.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.