Chapter 388:

Watching the tension simmer like a pot on the verge of boiling over, Ethel quietly sat down nearby, choosing the role of silent spectator rather than stepping into the storm.

This wasn’t a scene meant for interruption. It was theater—messy, unscripted, and charged.

“Freya,” Kristian called her name again, his voice a strange cocktail of warmth and ice. “You ought to have at least a shred of conscience. If I end up trapped in a loveless marriage, you’ll carry part of that burden.”

Freya stared at him in disbelief. “How about you try having a little self-respect first?”

“That deal we made? It’s off the table,” Kristian declared, as if reclaiming a lost battlefield. “Instead of staying out of your way, the new arrangement is this—you stay with me until my grandpa finally drops the idea of pushing me to another random woman.”

The declaration seemed to offer him a moment of relief.

Lately, he’d been haunted by regret—why had he ever agreed to terms that gained him nothing? If he failed those three challenges, would that mean losing her forever?

The thought gnawed at him, especially when images of her first love or that ever-hovering Charlie danced through his mind like unwelcome ghosts.

Freya’s brows pinched together. Her voice came low and biting. “Keep dreaming.”

she turned to

caught her

tactics anymore. She had always been able to shake off his

this time, when she tried to slip free using her

𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨

tried again.

still, his hand stayed clamped like

would be no easy

you go all those other times because I couldn’t stop you?” Kristian leaned in, closing the space between them. The sudden

hated this

liked Kristian even

back to Freya. “Are

push your luck,” Freya snapped,

in her eyes, Kristian’s expression softened—just a

least she wasn’t brushing him

the words slow and

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