Frederick’s eyes widened. It made perfect sense.
Though Kristian possessed the ability to uncover hidden information, Freya’s secrets remained completely inaccessible.
They continued their hushed conversation for several more minutes. Freya’s phone suddenly vibrated against the table. Glancing down and noticing Trent’s name on the screen, she asked Frederick to watch over Sheila while she stepped out to answer the call.
As she pulled open the hospital room door and moved into the hallway, she froze – several figures stood at the corner, with Kristian walking in the middle of the group.
She quickly retreated and pulled the door closed with a soft click.
Frederick looked up, his expression puzzled. “What happened?”
Without offering an explanation, Freya grabbed her phone and hurried toward the balcony of the hospital room.
Kristian, moving deliberately down the corridor, caught a fleeting glimpse of movement and paused outside Sheila’s hospital room, his attention immediately captured.
“Mr. Shaw, is something wrong?” asked a representative from the Shaw Group’s branch office, concern evident in his voice.
Everyone in the entourage remained bewildered by the unexpected alteration to their schedule.
They had planned to visit the company headquarters but inexplicably found themselves at the hospital instead.
“Who occupies this room?” Kristian inquired, his tone measured and dispassionate.
The figure he had glimpsed strongly resembled Freya. She had mentioned during their flight that her journey to Alerith stemmed from a hospitalized family member.
The manager promptly responded, “I believe it’s Ethel Briggs, daughter of the CEO of Briggs Group.”
“Knock on the door,” Kristian directed, his resonant voice carrying natural authority.
The manager hesitated momentarily. “Weren’t we scheduled to meet with the Russell Group’s president?”
“The Briggs Group is also our partner. Visiting their chairman’s daughter during her hospitalization is simply appropriate,” Kristian stated with conviction, his deep voice brooking no argument. “Knock on the door.”
The manager complied and rapped his knuckles against the door, sensing the situation held more complexity than appeared on the surface.
Kristian typically avoided such trivial matters; even when visits proved necessary, he routinely delegated them to others.
Something unusual was definitely unfolding.
Despite his private misgivings, the manager knocked firmly.
Frederick, hearing the sound, peered through the transparent observation window and spotted a suited man standing outside. Instinctively, he glanced toward the balcony where Freya stood. “Freya, someone from the Shaw Group seems to be here.”
“Handle it for me,” Freya replied, avoiding any encounter with Kristian. “Don’t allow them inside.”
If they met here, Kristian would inevitably question her motives for marrying him, perhaps suspecting her of pursuing corporate secrets. She lacked the energy to discuss these matters with him and any desire to engage in confrontation within Sheila’s hospital room.
Frederick rose to his feet.
“Who are you?” he asked while opening the door partway.
“I’m a manager of the Shaw Group’s Alerith branch,” the manager introduced himself before gesturing toward Kristian. “This is our president, Mr. Shaw. He learned about Miss Briggs’s hospitalization and came to offer his support.”
“Thank you,” Frederick responded with deliberate casualness.
The manager stood momentarily stunned, internally questioning, “Isn’t he going to invite us in?”
Kristian’s penetrating gaze moved past Frederick and surveyed the room, his presence radiating undeniable authority.
Frederick studied him briefly, realizing this man possessed even greater physical appeal than photographs had captured. No wonder Freya had fallen for him.
“Is Freya Briggs here?” Kristian shifted his attention back to Frederick, his eyes carrying an intimidating intensity as he delivered the question laden with hidden implications.
Frederick faltered visibly. “Huh?”
“This is a gift for Miss Briggs,” Kristian said, withdrawing his piercing gaze and offering the items originally intended for the Russell Group’s president. “We hope she recovers swiftly.”
“Thank you.” Frederick accepted the package.
With that exchange completed, Kristian and his entourage departed.
The manager stood bewildered, staring at his empty hands with mounting anxiety churning in his stomach.
The gift meant for the Russell Group’s president had been given to Ethel instead. What would they possibly present when visiting the president later?
Frederick remained by the door, unable to comprehend the true purpose behind their unexpected visit. He placed the items on the table beside the hospital bed, his mind swirling with unanswered questions.
“I didn’t expect you to handle it so well,” Freya remarked appreciatively from her position safely hidden from the observation window.
Frederick’s forehead creased in confusion. “What?”
“Kristian’s question was a deliberate trap,” Freya explained, recalling the anxiety that had gripped her when she overheard his inquiry. “Whether you acknowledged my presence or denied it, your response would have revealed that you know me personally. I was genuinely concerned you might inadvertently reveal something.”
Upon hearing this analysis, Frederick’s expression transformed into something peculiarly sheepish.
He scratched his head awkwardly, let out a soft chuckle, and admitted, “In truth, I was so distracted by how much more striking he appears in person compared to photographs that I barely registered what he asked. By the time I gathered my thoughts to respond properly, he had already handed me the gifts and begun walking away.”
His eyes darted nervously around the room, avoiding direct contact with Freya’s gaze.
Freya fell silent, momentarily stunned. Should she attribute this fortunate escape to destiny’s intervention?
“Freya,” Frederick began, finally seizing an opportunity for gossip, “did you marry him primarily because of his appearance?”
Freya responded with surprising candor, “Yes, that factored significantly into my decision.”
Kristian’s physical features aligned perfectly with her aesthetic ideals. Even now, despite his decision to divorce her, she couldn’t deny that his looks seemed divinely crafted. To this day, she hadn’t encountered anyone in either entertainment or fashion circles who surpassed his physical appeal.
Meanwhile, the very subject of their discussion occupied the adjacent room, engaged in conversation with Damon Russell, president of the Russell Group.
The branch manager and other employees waited respectfully outside, while Kristian sat composed on a chair beside the hospital bed, studying the handsome, carefree man resting there.
“Since when did you develop such consideration for others?” Damon teased with a knowing smile. “You even surrendered the gift intended for me to someone else.”
Kristian replied smoothly, “I’ll arrange for someone to purchase ten more for you later.”
“Spare me the gesture,” Damon countered bluntly. “Simply acknowledge the real reason behind your unexpected hospital visit. I find it impossible to believe you’ve suddenly become so compassionate.”
“Assist me in discovering whether Ethel Briggs has an older sister,” Kristian requested, his lips barely moving as he spoke, never concealing anything from this trusted confidant. “Approximately twenty-four years old.”
“Planning a seamless transition after finalizing your divorce?” Damon raised an eyebrow provocatively.
Kristian responded with unnerving composure, “The Shaw Group will soon implement significant downsizing measures. Your sweetheart might unfortunately be laid off.”
“You wouldn’t dare take such action,” Damon challenged.
“Care to test that assumption?” Kristian countered.
“I haven’t encountered any information suggesting she has an older sister.” Damon mentally cursed his predicament while reluctantly sharing what he knew. “However, employees at the Briggs Group occasionally refer to Ethel as ‘the younger one.’”
Kristian’s eyebrows drew together slightly in contemplation.
“What prompts this inquiry?” Damon asked, genuine curiosity evident in his voice.
“It’s inconsequential.” Kristian rose from his chair and gently tapped Damon’s bandaged shoulder as he prepared to depart. “Focus on your recovery and treat me to a meal when your health improves.”
Damon inhaled sharply at the contact, wincing in pain before quickly calling out as Kristian reached the doorway, “Should you dare render my future wife unemployed, I guarantee you’ll come to regret that decision!”
Kristian strode out of the hospital room with measured steps, Damon’s words echoing in his mind.
His eyes darkened as the implications sank in. Could Freya truly be Hugh Briggs’s daughter? The possibility unsettled him.
Outside, he spotted Richie Hewitt, the branch manager, waiting attentively by the door.
“Richie,” Kristian summoned him with quiet authority.
Richie snapped to attention, his posture stiffening as he searched Kristian’s expression for clues about the meeting with Damon.
“Find an opportunity to arrange dinner with Hugh Briggs of the Briggs Group,” Kristian instructed, his voice deliberately measured, masking his true intentions.
Confusion flickered across Richie’s features. “Hugh Briggs of the Briggs Group?”
“Yes,” Kristian confirmed casually, continuing his path down the corridor. He paused briefly to glance into Ethel’s room as he passed. Richie hurried after him. “But our projects with the Briggs Group aren’t core collaborations.” He assumed business motives behind the request. “Wouldn’t arranging dinner seem inappropriate under these circumstances?”
“It’s perfectly fine,” Kristian replied, shifting his gaze forward again. He had already formulated his strategy to probe Hugh. “Simply mention that I find our cooperation with the Briggs Group promising and wish to explore deeper collaboration.”
Richie hesitated, his lips twitching with unspoken reluctance.
“What’s wrong?” Kristian inquired, noticing the man’s discomfort.
“Our cooperation with the Briggs Group hasn’t exactly been pleasant.”
Richie’s face paled as memories surfaced. “During percentage negotiations, both parties maintained superficial politeness while secretly harboring violent thoughts toward each other.” That collaboration had resembled nothing short of a battlefield. The Briggs Group ranked last on Richie’s list of desired business partners – they were impossibly difficult!
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.