Chapter 145:
“Wait—who’s Ashley Bradley? How come I’ve never heard of her?”
“Does anyone care to explain?”
“Why is this even a trending topic?”
“This must be a concoction. Why must gossip columns assassinate a woman’s character?”
“Clearly, she has stepped on some powerful toes to be smeared so publicly.”
“Ashley has lingered in the shadows of the industry for six years, never stirring headlines nor stepping on toes. Who would orchestrate such spite?”
“Isn’t the man in those pictures striking a familiar chord?”
“Absolutely, I noticed that too.”
“I wonder if the man in this photo could be the president of Shaw Group.”
“Mystery solved! That’s Kristian Shaw, president of the Shaw Group. I practically have his face memorized—I stare at his photos every night before bed. Blur him all you want, I’d still know it’s him!”
“Does he have a wife?”
“I’m not certain. It looks like he might, but it’s hard to say for sure.”
“I’ve figured it out! Someone in the industry noticed this model cozying up to Mr. Shaw and worried she might climb the ranks, so they started a smear campaign against her.”
“Rumors fly fast and furious, yet disproving them is always a struggle.”
The comments section buzzed with activity.
Accustomed to the churn of rumors, the audience no longer took the gossip blogs seriously.
Your next adventure is at g al n ovels . con
Lacking concrete proof, they refrained from baseless accusations.
However, unbeknownst to them, the gossip held a kernel of truth. Ashley had indeed come between Kristian and Freya, leading him to propose a divorce.
Freya arrived at her doorstep and reached for the fingerprint scanner, but paused—something was off. The door looked like it had already been opened. Her alertness heightened, she braced herself to face any possible threat inside.
As she activated the electronic lock and heard the click, she pushed the door open, stepping cautiously.
Unexpectedly, the living room was in perfect order, bathed in the warm glow of sunlight pouring through the windows.
Freya advanced a few steps and noticed Kristian perched on the sofa, his face etched with somber lines, while Gerard appeared mildly distressed.
“Why are you here in my apartment?” she demanded, her voice icy.
Upon her arrival, Gerard sprang to his feet, hastily smoothing down his clothes.
Gone was his usual serene smile; instead, he addressed her with a troubled look.
Displeased, Freya set her belongings atop a nearby cabinet and strode toward Kristian, her eyes sharp with the need for answers.
“What were you up to today?” Kristian interrogated, his expression stormy.
Freya settled into an armchair, her response dismissive. “That’s none of your business.”
Despite the tension, Kristian restrained his anger and pressed on. “Who were you with?”
.
.
.