“Save the sympathy.” Freya scoffed, amused by their expressions. She gestured to the bags weighing them down. “A single one of those could cover your salary for a year. Maybe ten.”
The blow landed perfectly.
She pressed, “Well, anything you’d like?”
Five pairs of eyes widened in unison.
Freya’s mind worked in ways they couldn’t follow.
“Since he’s off playing hero for his darling, let’s put his money to better use.” She twirled the black card between her fingers, her voice quieter now.
The sting surprised her. She hadn’t realized Kristian’s departure would still claw at her.
Right now, all she wanted was to drain his account dry.
Gerard and the bodyguards gaped.
Delighted by their shock, Freya resumed shopping, the card clutched like a weapon.
She assumed Kristian would linger at the hospital all day. But as she sat down to eat, he appeared like a storm, his presence slicing through the restaurant’s warmth.
Before anyone could react, he seized Freya’s wrist and hauled her toward the parking area, his grip ironclad.
Her back slammed against the car door, pain radiating through her.
She winced. What the hell was his problem?
His accusation came like a whip crack, “Why hurt Ashley?”
Kristian trembled with suppressed rage. “You hired that hit-and-run driver, didn’t you? I gave you everything you wanted – the house, the car, the money. What more do –
You want? Why did you still hurt her?” He looked like vengeance personified, his eyes glacial.
“When did I – ” Freya’s confusion was genuine.
“Still lying?” His voice could have frosted glass. “You planned this. Picked today so I’d be distracted while your hired man ran her down. You know I’d die before letting her suffer.”
His voice was Arctic frost, the kind that seeped into bones and made spines stiffen.
Freya’s initial fury dissolved into something colder, sharper. His absurd accusation had an ironic effect – it drained her rage, leaving only icy clarity.
She met his gaze, lips curling in derision. “How poetic. Turning betrayal into some grand romance.”
“Freya Briggs!” Kristian’s control frayed, his shout raw with warning. “You’re delusional.”
She didn’t flinch, status be damned. “Think. Why would I trash my fresh start – my freedom – over someone like her?”
“You know exactly why.” His voice dropped lower, a blade pressed to her throat.
A realization flickered. “Ah. You think I’m still obsessed with you?”
Kristian said nothing, but his clenched jaw and the fire in his eyes were answer enough.
“Why should I still want you?” Freya laughed, the sound brittle. “After being treated as a stand-in? After your infidelity? After watching you fawn over another woman?”
The words landed like slaps.
Kristian stiffened. “I didn’t cheat,” he ground out.
“You handed her your heart while wearing my ring.” Her smile was lethal. “That’s cheating.”
“Enough deflection,” he snapped.
“You’re the one hallucinating conspiracies!”
Silence. Kristian studied her, as if peeling back layers for the first time. The weight of his scrutiny was suffocating.
Freya refused to wilt. “So she claimed I hired a man to kill her, and you just… believed her?”
“Yes.” His anger faltered under her unwavering stare, but the frost remained. “Ashley didn’t lie. And she has proof.”
Freya’s brows arched.
Her fingers dug into her bag strap, knuckles whitening. “Perfect. Let’s go to the hospital. Right now.”
Kristian blinked. Her immediate agreement threw him.
Guilty people didn’t invite confrontation.
Doubt slithered in. Was the evidence fabricated?
“Move.” Her command shattered his thoughts.
He released her wrist, disconcerted by her detachment. Something ugly twisted in his chest – annoyance? Guilt? Before he could name it, he yanked out his keys and wrenched the car door open.
Gerard stepped forward swiftly to take the keys, assuming the role of driver without hesitation.
Freya yanked the passenger door open and slid inside, her gaze fixed straight ahead – ignoring Kristian entirely.
A knot of dread tightened in Gerard’s chest. What if Freya said something outrageous? The thought made his fingers clench around the wheel.
After a weighted pause, he ventured, “Mrs. Shaw, you – “
“Drive.” Her reply was a blade, sharp and final.
Gerard flicked a glance at the rearview mirror. Kristian’s expression gave nothing away.
Swallowing hard, he pulled out of the parking area.
Silence smothered the car like a thick fog.
The tension was unbearable. Gerard’s shoulders tensed, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.
Neither Kristian nor Freya spoke. Both radiated a frost so deep it could’ve cracked the windows.
Gerard knew Kristian’s moods well – but Freya? She’d been almost cheerful earlier. What the hell happened?
He bit back a sigh. Questions wouldn’t help now.
In the back seat, Kristian’s gaze drifted unbidden to Freya’s profile. Something unfamiliar twisted in his chest – an emotion he refused to name.
Thirty minutes later, the car halted at the hospital entrance.
Kristian seized Freya’s wrist, dragging her toward the VIP ward. His grip was iron, unyielding.
She winced, her voice dripping with mockery. “At this rate, I won’t be the one charged – you’ll be arrested for assault first.”
He dropped her arm like it burned him. Angry red marks circled her skin.
Freya shot him a look so scathing it could’ve melted steel.
Guilt flickered in Kristian’s chest – brief, unwelcome. It vanished the moment Ashley’s bruised face flashed in his mind.
“Follow me,” he muttered, turning on his heel. He didn’t wait to see if Freya obeyed.
The door swung open. Ashley lay propped up in bed, her face lighting up at the sight of Kristian.
“Kristian,” she breathed, voice sweet with devotion.
He was at her side in an instant, fingers brushing hers in silent reassurance.
Freya strode in, took one look at them, and smirked. “Should I leave? Give you two some privacy?”
Ashley flinched. “Ms. Briggs, it’s not what you think! We’re just – “
“Let go of his hand,” Freya interrupted, “and that lie might actually stick.”
She closed the distance to the bed, studying Ashley properly for the first time – soft features, delicate frame, eyes wide with practiced innocence.
Ah. Now she understood. This was the woman Kristian loved.
“Kristian…” Ashley’s fingers tightened around his, her lower lip trembling.
Freya nearly rolled her eyes. The act was transparent.
Ashley wanted her to explode – to play the jealous wife and give Kristian another reason to despise her.
Kristian misinterpreted Ashley’s grip as fear. His voice softened, a rarity. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
Freya’s laugh was brittle. “Kristian, I’m right here.”
The audacity. Flaunting his affair in her face – did he think she’d just take it?
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.