Chapter 239:
The young women didn’t press further, respecting her decision. As Freya began to leave, they couldn’t resist calling after her, treating her like an innocent little girl.
“Wait a moment, miss.”
Freya paused and looked back. “Yes? What is it?”
“Just remember, if you ever find yourself in a situation like this again, never agree to go with anyone.”
“Those people didn’t seem trustworthy at all. If you had gone with them, it could have turned out terribly.”
“Never accept a drink that’s been out of your sight in a nightclub.”
Freya absorbed their earnest guidance, her eyes softening, as if she viewed them not just as peers, but as cherished younger sisters. “I understand,” she murmured, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” they replied, their faces lighting up with gentle, reassuring smiles.
With one last lingering glance, Freya exited the nightclub into the cool evening air.
Her eyes flickered to the large clock mounted above the entrance—it was already eight in the evening.
Nestled in the heart of downtown, the nightclub was a daunting two-hour drive from her quiet suburban home. The very idea of the journey ignited a strong sense of reluctance within her.
Her anger had faded, leaving her with a clear understanding of why Kristian doubted her.
If something felt off, there was always a catch—an old saying she’d learned to believe.
Indeed, Kristian’s suspicions about her unlikely actions and her interactions with Trent were justified. No wonder he harbored doubts. Shaking off these reflections, Freya initially considered hailing a taxi but quickly dismissed the idea in favor of the subway. It was not only cheaper, but it would also cut her journey time in half. Resolute, she descended into the subway’s bustling embrace.
By the time she surfaced at the station near her home, the night had deepened to half past ten.
gⲁ𝗅𝓝𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀.𝗰0𝗺; 𝓤𝓹𝗅𝗼𝗮𝓭 𝗦𝓞𝓤𝗍𝗍
Stepping out, her attention was abruptly captured by the urgent blare of sirens.
A fire truck barreled past, heading toward her neighborhood, while worried whispers floated around her.
“A fire at this hour,” one bystander murmured, anxiety threading their tone. “I wonder if anyone’s trapped inside.”
“Absolutely. It scares the hell out of me.”
“How could a fire just erupt out of nowhere?”
“Who knows?”
A fire? Freya’s expression tightened, and her steps grew quicker as she made her way over.
The moment she reached a vantage point overlooking her apartment, her worst fears were confirmed. Flames hungrily devoured a house below, licking the floor above. It appeared to be her home.
Her usual calm shattered, and she broke into a frantic run toward the inferno.
It wasn’t about the replaceable items—her laptop, her phone—it was her marriage certificate that lay in jeopardy.
If it succumbed to the flames, she’d face the hassle of replacing it. Moreover, with her fragile relationship with Kristian teetering on the edge, the disappearance of their marriage certificate might spark accusations of deceit from him, undoubtedly leading to yet another heated exchange.
Downstairs, at the base of the apartment building, a fire truck had already made its entrance, navigating through the residential area. Authorities had erected barriers to hold back the gathering crowd of onlookers.
Kristian sat in his car, concern etched across his face, while Gerard, who had hurried over to fetch him, was at the wheel.
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