Chapter 120:
“Freya Briggs!” he bellowed.
“There’s no need to yell; I can hear you perfectly,” Freya snapped back, her voice icy.
“You got what you asked for, and you said yes to the divorce. So why drag Ashley into this mess and accuse her of arranging for assailants to attack you?” Kristian demanded, his frustration palpable. “What are you really after?”
In that moment, a curious urge overtook Freya. She rose to her feet, her frame dwarfed by Kristian’s height.
She met his gaze squarely. “Is it that you trust everyone else but me?”
“Think about it—what do you think my answer is?” he snapped, tossing the blame right back at her.
“I’ve made my point clear,” Freya replied, her voice dripping with disappointment. “Believe it or not, that’s your choice.”
“I’m warning you for the last time—cut out these underhanded tactics.” Anger flared in Kristian as he thought about the situation, his voice growing sharp. “If you dare harm Ashley again, I won’t let you off so easily.”
Freya remained silent, her expression unreadable. She simply let his words float by, barely registering them.
Watching her nonchalant demeanor, Kristian felt a wave of frustration wash over him. How could she maintain such arrogance after her blunders?
“For the next few days, you’re staying here,” he declared, his tone leaving no room for debate. “You’re not stepping outside until we settle this divorce!”
With a wave of his hand, he summoned over twenty bodyguards to encircle the villa, securing every possible exit.
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Unfazed, Freya’s resilience shone through. Casually scanning the room, she inquired, “Where will I be sleeping?”
Kristian halted, his anger simmering beneath the surface.
He had poured out his frustrations, and yet, she was concerned about her sleeping arrangements!
“Do you really think you can do as you please just because my family holds you in high regard?”
“Of course, why not?” Freya replied, her voice now steady and composed. “Your grandpa has always treated me like I was his own granddaughter.”
Kristian fell into a brooding silence, labeling her in his mind as completely shameless.
“Make sure you send over a few outfits for me,” Freya instructed with calm authority. “And pick up some tampons; my period is almost here.”
When he gave no answer, she insisted, “Did you get that?”
“I’m not your errand boy,” Kristian retorted coldly.
“So, are you suggesting I should go out and get them myself?”
“In your dreams!” Kristian snapped back sharply.
The exchange ended on a bitter note. Despite his annoyance, Kristian couldn’t shake off the memory of his grandfather’s fondness for Freya. Reluctantly, he instructed someone to gather the items.
Freya settled into the room she once occupied, savored a long, relaxing shower, and then sank into bed with nothing but her phone to keep her company. She contemplated her escape options. She could leap from the second-floor window, reach out to Kristian’s family, or contact Trent for help. But she understood that challenging Kristian would only lead to relentless disputes.
In the past three weeks, their arguments had become all too frequent. Frankly, she was exhausted by the constant strife. Desiring a moment of tranquility, she opted not to provoke further conflict.
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