Chapter 364:
Just as Freya was about to step into Melvin’s car, Kristian burst onto the scene, seizing her arm and pulling her away. His voice was both stern and possessive. “She’s with me. No need to go out of your way.”
Gerard’s jaw dropped, his eyes going wide with disbelief. How the hell did he get here so fast? By his calculations, Kristian was at least twenty minutes out. There was no way he could’ve made it here this quickly!
“And let me be clear—Freya is mine,” Kristian declared, his grip tightening, his steely gaze pinning Melvin in place. “It’s time you let go of whatever feelings you have for her.”
“Take your hand off me,” Freya’s voice was sharp and biting, each word laced with frost.
Kristian remained still, his fingers tightening slightly as his expression grew colder, more unreadable.
Without loosening his grip, he shifted his gaze to Gerard and ordered flatly, “Gerard, take a couple of days off. Go keep your friend company.”
Gerard stood quietly, not reacting, his lips pressed into a thin line. If Kristian expected him to persuade Melvin to back down, he could have just asked.
“I don’t have time to hang out,” Melvin retorted sharply, his striking features accentuated by his tousled hair, giving him an air of rugged defiance. “Let Freya go already. She’s divorced from you—she’s got nothing to do with you now.”
How dare he say something like that!
Kristian reeled, visibly thrown by Melvin’s audacity.
Yes, he and Freya were divorced—but did that strip her from his life so completely, as if she no longer had any connection to him at all?
“Gerard.” Kristian’s restraint snapped like a taut wire.
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Gerard, catching the shift in the air, wasted no time. He knew better than most the extent of Freya’s combat skills—and her temper. Tugging at Melvin’s arm, he muttered, “Let them sort it out themselves. Let’s go.”
“You should really tell Freya’s ex-husband to back off,” Melvin said flatly. “She’s his ex-wife now, and chasing after her like this? It’s downright inappropriate.”
Gerard was at a loss for words.
Kristian’s fury surged.
Ex-husband and ex-wife?
Those words sliced through him like knives, each one a brutal reminder of what he’d lost.
He threw Gerard a sharp look, then gripped Freya’s arm with firm intent, making it clear he had no plans to argue further—he was taking her to his car.
“Let her go.” Melvin stepped forward, placing himself between them, his face carved from ice.
Kristian held on, refusing to release her.
With swift precision, Freya twisted her wrist, slipping free from his grasp like water through fingers.
Had the setting not been so public and the onlookers fewer, she might’ve taken a swing at him right then and there.
“If you leave with him tonight, I swear you’ll regret it,” Kristian hissed, the helplessness in his voice betrayed only by the desperation in his eyes as she pulled further from his reach.
In moments like this, Freya was the only anchor that kept him from drowning in chaos—his one, fleeting sense of peace.
.
.
.