Chapter 478:
Freya’s brows drew together instantly at the sight of him.
Kristian stepped inside, calm and unreadable. “Where are you hurt?”
Freya blinked. Hurt?
“I’m hurt?” Freya asked.
“A staff member said you fell earlier, and it looked serious.” Kristian had come running the moment he got wind of it. Freya stiffened, then suddenly pieced it all together.
Just as she opened her mouth to tell him, “You’ve been tricked,” the door slammed shut with a sharp bang. A figure in black—masked, hat pulled low—stood behind it.
The noise snapped Kristian’s head around.
In that fleeting instant, something clicked. “You’re okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” Freya replied, her voice as composed as ever.
Hearing that, Kristian’s shoulders eased slightly, and he turned back to the door, trying to open it.
Freya’s gaze fixed on the door. If Kristian actually managed to open it, she’d be stunned.
As expected, he yanked at it a few times, but it was sealed tight.
Kristian’s brow furrowed. This room was more isolated than the others. Everyone else was downstairs on the first floor. Even if he pounded on the door, no one would hear a thing.
After a beat, he pulled out his phone to call for help—only to find he had no signal.
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Freya caught on too.
“No signal,” Kristian muttered, his face clouding over.
“It’s probably that man behind Ashley making his move,” Freya said steadily. At most, they’d be stuck in here for two or three hours. Once the banquet downstairs ended and her father noticed her absence, he’d come looking.
It was just a matter of riding out a few hours in the same space as someone she didn’t exactly care for.
Kristian slipped his phone back into his pocket and started searching the room.
Freya joined him. No signal meant something was jamming it. Still, if this was the handiwork of that man, the device wouldn’t be easy to find. He was too meticulous to leave anything behind.
Even if they suspected him, finding solid proof was nearly impossible. They scoured the room in focused silence for ten minutes. Then, suddenly, a flush of heat surged through Kristian’s body. He instinctively shrugged off his jacket and loosened the top two buttons of his shirt.
But the heat refused to relent.
He paced a bit, then walked over to the air conditioner and lowered the temperature.
Freya watched him with a faint frown. Was it really that warm?
Five more minutes crawled by.
Kristian wasn’t just overheating now—something deeper, wilder, more uncontrollable was surging through him. It felt…
Wait.
.
.
.