Chapter 37:
A chill passed through Kristian’s eyes, turning them frostier as he countered skeptically, “Trent’s family background has always placed him in elite circles since he was young. How could you possibly have known him back then?”
Freya remained silent, the weight of her secret identity forming an invisible barrier between them.
He studied her closely, his voice laced with a stern warning. “Don’t even think about getting too close to him,” he warned. “He’s not as innocent as he looks.”
“I’m merely friends with him,” Freya asserted firmly, her voice steady and clear. “I have no intention of pursuing anything beyond that. Don’t project your assumptions onto me. Basic respect is fundamental in any human interaction.”
Kristian’s expression grew more intense, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Seizing the shift in conversation, Freya turned the tables. “Speaking of which, when exactly did you meet Ashley Bradley?” she asked, her tone equally probing.
Kristian fell into a troubled silence, his jaw tightening.
Echoing his earlier words with a hint of irony, Freya continued, “She’s not as innocent as she seems. Don’t even think about getting too close to her.”
“Freya!” Kristian’s voice rose in anger, frustration flashing across his features.
Unfazed, Freya leaned back against the plush cushions of the sofa, her posture relaxed but alert.
“Ashley and Trent are worlds apart,” Kristian snapped bitterly, his frustration evident. “It’s unfair and wrong to compare her to him.” He leaned forward, his tone severe and final. “I’ll say this one last time—if you want a peaceful life after the divorce, keep your distance from him.”
Freya snatched her phone from the table and walked away.
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The idea of having a meaningful conversation with Kristian now seemed ludicrous to her. What a love-struck fool! He was always babbling about Ashley—Ashley this, Ashley that. If he was so obsessed with that woman, why did he rush into marrying her? What a piece of shit.
Meanwhile, Kristian stood rooted, watching the door shut behind Freya, a storm of frustration swirling within him.
Freya felt suffocated in that space, especially in his presence.
Her gaze lingered on the lush greenery visible through the window, a temporary balm to her frayed nerves. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she picked up her phone again and dialed with practiced ease. “Hello, is this Spotless Housekeeping? I need a cleaning service for my house—just a thorough dusting. I’ll be moving in tomorrow. Thank you; I’ll send over the address and access code in a moment.”
After ending the call, she quickly texted the address and access code for her luxury duplex apartment in Jeucwell—a sanctuary she had bought years ago but rarely used.
The picturesque views and mild climate of Jeucwell made it the perfect retreat. She had purchased the place with the intention of having somewhere to unwind whenever she needed a break.
Though renovated, she had never spent a single night there. After filing for divorce the next day, she planned to settle there, escaping the constant frustration of running into Kristian.
Unbeknownst to Kristian, Freya was quietly orchestrating her escape. Meanwhile, he found himself increasingly drawn into the mysteries of her life.
After some reflection, it hit him—he didn’t know a damn thing about her beyond her name.
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