Chapter 381:
While Melvin had taken over most of the workload, Freya, as the owner of Anita International, still had matters that required her personal touch.
As for Kristian, after their last encounter at the shooting club, he seemed to vanish into thin air, as if honoring his vow not to disturb Freya until he had surpassed her in shooting. Time marched on, and before long, the 10th arrived.
It was a Saturday.
Ethel, Freya, and Hugh were all present. As they kept an eye on the time, Hugh led his daughters to the restaurant he had reserved for the occasion.
Despite his calm exterior, Hugh was still feeling that gnawing anxiety. After a few moments of indecision, he said, “If you’re not feeling up to it, just let me know. We can always reschedule.”
“It’s fine,” Freya answered with a quiet, assured calm.
Her words should have put him at ease, but they didn’t. The nervous energy still hung in the air, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that she might be displeased by something later.
Nevertheless, he genuinely hoped for her support.
Since his wife Anita’s passing, the house had become eerily silent, a void of warmth and joy.
At exactly ten-thirty, Hugh’s group arrived at the restaurant, greeted by a waiter who led them to a private room.
Cheryl was already there, having arrived early in an effort to make a good impression on Freya.
As the door to the private room swung open, Freya’s gaze immediately landed on the woman inside.
Every story unfolds at gαℓησν𝒆𝓁s．𝓬𝗈𝗺
It had been over two years since she’d last seen Cheryl with such clarity.
“Mina, Sheila, come sit here,” Hugh said warmly. “Let me introduce you. This is Cheryl Newman. This is Mina…”
He continued the introductions smoothly, but Freya interrupted with a quiet correction, “Not Mina. I’m Freya Briggs.”
That simple statement made Hugh realize, instantly, that Freya didn’t want others calling her by her nickname.
He reintroduced them using their full names, and Cheryl, always poised, smiled warmly at them. Soon, it was time for the meal to begin.
Throughout dinner, Cheryl was careful, her actions laden with subtle hints of trying to win Freya’s favor.
Both Hugh and Ethel noticed this, exchanging a quiet glance that spoke volumes. It was clear—Cheryl was seeking Freya’s approval.
“Freya, try this. It’s delicious,” Cheryl offered with a gentle smile, her tone almost pleading for connection.
Freya, ever composed, politely refused, “Thank you. I can help myself.” The words, though polite, sent a ripple of awkward silence through the room.
While nothing was overtly wrong with Freya’s response, everyone could sense the distance between her and Cheryl.
By the end of the meal, no one had truly enjoyed their food—not even Freya, who wasn’t usually difficult when it came to eating.
As the meal wound down, the conversation reached a critical juncture. Hugh, sitting next to Cheryl, felt the weight of the moment. He glanced between Freya and Ethel before asking, “About my marriage plan with Cheryl, do you…”
“I have no objections,” Ethel replied casually, her tone light.
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