Chapter 231:
“But—you’re not thinking of confronting Freya, are you?” Felipe’s concern was palpable, his voice laced with anxiety as he tried to reason with Kristian.
“Don’t rush in without thinking. What if you’ve got it all wrong?”
“I said, get out!” Kristian snapped, his gaze piercing, leaving no room for argument. His patience was clearly on its last thread.
Kristian had been grappling with doubts ever since he received those damning photos and message. He’d convinced himself they were just misunderstandings; after all, he’d been wrong about Freya before and regretted it deeply.
He’d chosen to wait, to give her the benefit of the doubt.
Yet, nothing had prepared him for the sight of Freya, radiant and laughing, casually strolling alongside Trent.
“Take it easy, alright?” Felipe suggested with a resigned sigh as he opened the door, feeling the weight of Kristian’s anger.
“Just… talk it out.”
Kristian dismissed Felipe with a wave of his hand.
With Felipe out of the way, Kristian sped toward Freya’s place, catching up to her cab with ease.
An hour had passed when Freya stepped out of the cab and made her way home.
She hesitated on the doorstep, her heart sinking as she noticed Kristian waiting for her, his presence emanating an icy wrath. Her gaze sharpened with sudden realization.
This was undoubtedly the fallout from the incident at the hotel.
Without exchanging a word with him, she used her fingerprint to unlock the door and entered. This time, she left the door ajar, an unspoken invitation for him to follow; she sensed he needed to air his grievances.
“Enjoy your day?” Kristian queried, his voice cool as he scrutinized her composed expression.
He couldn’t help but feel a grudging admiration. Even after the exposure of her affair, she confronted him with such serene confidence. She could have easily been a spy with that kind of steel in her nerves.
Freya swapped her shoes for more comfortable ones and proceeded further into the house, a trace of weariness in her steps.
“Sure,” she replied noncommittally.
“And where did you go?” Kristian pressed, shutting the door with a soft click behind him.
“A hotel,” Freya responded, her voice dropping to a whisper as she sank into the sofa, the soft cushions offering a small relief to her drained spirit.
Kristian’s expression shifted to one of sheer disbelief, his brows arching high on his forehead. How could she state that with such conviction, as if it was the most righteous thing in the world?
“You’re here because you knew I was with Trent, isn’t that it?”
Freya, growing impatient with the sluggish pace of their conversation, seized the moment to clarify her actions.
“I only rushed to the hotel because someone stole Trent’s phone and sent me a message, pretending to be him.”
Pulling out her phone, she swiftly navigated to the incriminating message and held it up for Kristian to see.
.
.
.