Desmond looked away, inwardly battling with indecision—whether to believe her or not. He took a deep breath, his mind racing.On the other hand, Freya watched him closely, her gaze unwavering. His tired eyes spoke volumes about his intoxicated state. He was getting tipsier than before. And it was time to act.Freya tilted her head, her lips curving into a soft, understanding smile. “I know you're overwhelmed and can't seem to believe me. And that's understandable. I've practically ruined your life,” Freya said softly, her eyes locked onto his. She paused briefly, allowing her words to sink in. Then she let out a deep sigh and went on. “But people change, Desmond. You claimed you were a changed man, right? So why can't I claim I'm a changed woman as well?” Her voice was low and soft, but a hint of sarcasm was hidden in it.Desmond stared hard at her, reflecting on her words. His expression was a softer version of the skeptical mask he wore. And Freya smiled inwardly, realizing he was
Freya's eyes got big with shock as she froze, her gaze transfixed on the TV screen. She felt her heart skip a beat as she witnessed the awful scene on air. “...the most awaited moment in the world of entertainment. Here we have Monica Holland and her finally revealed lover, Desmond July, kissing openly on the red carpet just yesterday in Hollywood! What a sight to see! Who would have thought Monica was in such a serious relationship with a man who is no stranger in the world of business tycoons…” Freya's shoulders shuddered, and she quivered like she had been standing outside in the snow for hours. Her lips barely moved as she breathed a silent “No”, shaking her head forcefully. A single teardrop, like a shiny pearl, crawled out of her eye down her cheek. Shivers were sent down her spine and she finally gave up standing and dropped dramatically to the floor. “Mom!” From a hidden corner in the living room, her eight-year-old son who had been silently watching her distress, ran
"Move aside!” Freya staggered like a toddler taking his first steps as Desmond pushed her to the side aggressively. “I just got back from a hectic trip and the welcome I get is you standing in my way and staring at me like I'm the reason for your misery. Get me something to eat. I'm so hungry”, Desmond ordered and marched majestically into the house, pulling his small travel box behind him and ignoring the poor Freya who had bumped her head into the wall due to his rough push. Noah, whose eyes watched the little drama in horror, took a few steps backwards away from his monstrous looking father. “Little boy, get me a glass of water!” Desmond snapped as he fell lazily on the couch and tugged on his tie aggressively. He roughly tossed his luggage aside. Noah shook his head adamantly and fled to his room, ignoring Desmond's order. “Noah!” He fumed, turning his head to see Noah run off. “Desmond! How dare you!” Freya exclaimed suddenly, like she had just regained her consciou
4:30 amFreya grasped Noah's little hand tightly, hauling him along with her.A few steps more and they were gone from the dungeon which Desmond had originally referred to as a home. With her other hand, Freya held a small saddle bag while Noah's favorite clothes could all fit into his little backpack, luckily. She also carried a small handbag along which she hung on her shoulder.Before advancing further, Freya stopped abruptly and turned around to take the final glance at her soon-to-be ex husband's gigantic mansion. The enormous white pearly building stood tall and majestic in the early morning moonlight and stared down at her as if judging her for summoning up courage to finally leave it.“I'll miss this house”, Noah finally spoke up on seeing his mother steadily regard their house for an awkward amount of seconds.Freya let out a dense sigh as she looked down at her tender son. The innocence engraved in his facial expression captured and softened her heart. “Yeah. But we're ne
"I'm Diego. Sorry I didn't introduce myself properly”.Diego offered a handshake, a gesture of courtesy, and Freya, still reeling from her recent misfortune, hesitated briefly before extending her hand, her fingers meeting his in a cautious grasp. “Can I get your name as well, hope you don't mind?”Freya regarded the strange man called Diego with utmost curiosity aiming at getting a clue on what he was all about.His jet-black longish hair and gray eyes, accompanied by his strong jawline, blended excellently well, working hand in hand to give him a majestic and handsome appearance.“Freya”, she replied stiffly, looking away from his steady gaze.Diego, sensing her discomfort and likely shyness, let out a brief, warm chuckle, his vibrations conveying a gentle understanding.Freya scowled at him, wondering what was laugh-inducing in that arena asides her being in a pathetic state.“I know exactly how you feel. Don't worry, your belongings will be tracked down in no time. My friend here
"Imelda”, Freya's soft voice called out and she wrapped her college friend in a warm embrace as soon as she opened the door for them.Noah's eyes wandered, his attention flagging as his mom and her friend shared a warm but overly long hug.“Freya! So good to see you once again. Please come in!” Imelda, Freya's college friend, welcomed her into the house with a warm hand gesture.With an awkward grasp, Freya clutched Noah's hand as they stepped into the house of their new host, their facial expressions etched with uncertainty. They paused in the living room, reluctant to take their seats on the couch, their bodies tense with unease.“Please, have a seat. You're welcome to my house. Freya, who's this little boy?” Imelda asked immediately, her tone laced with curiosity. Freya and Noah sat together on a couch with Noah snuggling tightly into Freya's arms. He clutched the sleeve of her blouse and Freya could tell that his shyness was kicking in."He's my son," Freya replied curtly, her to
Freya hesitated briefly before responding to Diego, surprised by his eagerness to hear her voice again so soon after their first meeting.“Hi”, Freya said awkwardly, taking her seat gently on the bed.“I have news concerning your “bag thief”. She's been taken into custody by the authorities. Your luggage has been retrieved and I'd like you to come get them at the police station.”Freya's heart lifted with relief and gratitude as she met Diego's help with a deep sigh of appreciation, her eyes glittering with a warm smile.“Oh my goodness, thank you so much. I didn't expect this to happen so fast. I'm really grateful, sir”, she said in a high pitched tone that betrayed her happiness.“It's nothing. I just want to know where you are now so that I can come pick you up. Then we could go to the station together. Would that be okay?” Diego's soothing baritone voice pierced through her eardrums.Freya's pause afterwards was a fleeting moment of uncertainty, as if trying to make a major decisi
Diego flung open the car door and held it open for Freya to alight with a gallant gesture, his arm extended in a majestic invitation as a warm, radiant smile spread across his face. “Please ma'am, could you step out like the queen that you are?” He murmured, his deep voice gentle and sincere, and his eyes burning with warmth, as he stretched out a hand of assistance towards her. Freya's initial moody countenance crumbled, her amusement bubbling up as she succumbed to the charm of Diego's unexpected complement. Her lips curved into a sweet smile, revealing her amusement. “Queen?” She laughed cheerfully, as she teased him about his cheesy remark. Diego's face lit up with a pleased smile, his eyes glowing with delight, as he basked in the joy of having forced a smile out of her. With a broad lingering grin spread across her face, Freya slowly placed her hand in Diego's, and he assisted her out of the car with tender care. Afterwards, Diego shut the door behind her with a soft c
Desmond looked away, inwardly battling with indecision—whether to believe her or not. He took a deep breath, his mind racing.On the other hand, Freya watched him closely, her gaze unwavering. His tired eyes spoke volumes about his intoxicated state. He was getting tipsier than before. And it was time to act.Freya tilted her head, her lips curving into a soft, understanding smile. “I know you're overwhelmed and can't seem to believe me. And that's understandable. I've practically ruined your life,” Freya said softly, her eyes locked onto his. She paused briefly, allowing her words to sink in. Then she let out a deep sigh and went on. “But people change, Desmond. You claimed you were a changed man, right? So why can't I claim I'm a changed woman as well?” Her voice was low and soft, but a hint of sarcasm was hidden in it.Desmond stared hard at her, reflecting on her words. His expression was a softer version of the skeptical mask he wore. And Freya smiled inwardly, realizing he was
9:32 PMThe hum of the engine was the only sound breaking the silence inside Freya’s car. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white as she stared through the windshield. Outside, the city lights shimmered, coupled with the lights coming from the inside of Desmond's office building, casting a pale glow over the darkened streets. The building loomed tall and ominous in Freya's rearview mirror, its shadow stretching across the pavement like a veil.Freya’s heart hammered against her chest as she adjusted her rearview mirror to get a better view of Desmond's movements. She had been waiting patiently for him to retire home, watching him closely in order to decide her next course of action.Just then, she saw him exit the building, his silhouette sharp under the yellow glow of the streetlights. He walked with the same arrogance she despised so much, his leather shoes clicking against the pavement. He was on the phone, his voice muffled but animated, likely barking or
“Evening, husband.”Freya's voice was thick with sarcasm, and her lips curved into a smirk. Without giving Desmond a chance to speak, she stepped into the room, her gaze sweeping over the mess he had made.The acrid stench of whiskey flooded her senses, making her grimace in disgust. She turned away, scrunching up her nose to fight the nausea it triggered. “What's that smell?” she mumbled, her face contorted with displeasure.Desmond fixed her with a deadly stare, his eyes blazing with unrestrained rage. “Why are you here?” he spat, leaning forward.Freya stared hard at the shattered pieces of glass, infused into the nasty pool of golden liquid on the floor. Her brows furrowed in a frown, and she shook her head in pity."Really, Desmond?" she said, her voice dripping with condescension. "Breaking bottles and shouting at doors? How…predictable."Desmond’s eyes darkened, his rage momentarily stunned into silence by the audacity of her presence. He watched as she walked further into the
Desmond sat alone in his dimly lit study, the amber glow of the desk lamp casting long shadows across the mahogany furniture. The air reeked of whiskey and regret. His hand trembled as he brought the glass to his lips, but the drink did little to dull the bitter thoughts swirling in his mind. He leaned back in the leather armchair, his eyes drifting shut. Freya. Her name alone sent a wave of anger coursing through his veins. His jaw tightened as he replayed the events of the past months in his mind. It was certain that Freya’s schemes had been meticulously calculated and set into motion long before she returned to his house. She couldn't have possibly just woken up one day and chosen violence. Who knew what had been going through her head for months now?She had walked back into his life as someone hardened, vengeful, and utterly fearless, not as the meek woman he had once controlled. He swirled the whiskey in his glass, watching the golden liquid catch the light. The burn of alcoh
Diego sat back in his executive swivel chair, a small cup of coffee in his hand. His professional attire was a perfect contrast to the warmth of his triumphant grin. The sun poured in through the window walls, casting golden light over the rich wood and steel accents of the room. The television in his sleek office played the breaking news on every major channel. The headlines blared across the screen: "Corporate Scandal: Freya July Sells Major Stake in Dexus Innovations to Rival Competitor!" The accompanying footage showed reporters scrambling outside Desmond's towering headquarters, desperate for a comment, while stock market analysts discussed the fallout of Freya's calculated move.Diego took a tiny sip of the warm liquid in his mug, his eyes glued to the TV, as if savoring every word the reporters said."...a shocking betrayal by Freya July, Desmond's wife, who has sold a substantial portion of her shares to RavenTech Industries, one of Dexus Innovations’ fiercest competitors," t
The morning air in the city was crisp, carrying the faint hum of activity that grew louder with each passing hour. The glass façade of Dexus Innovations shone in the sunlight, casting a long shadow over the busy streets below. And inside, the tension was palpable. The grand ballroom on the twenty-fifth floor had been transformed into a stage for a high-stakes event. Rows of chairs lined the room, facing an imposing podium framed by floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a panoramic view of the city skyline. A team of technicians moved swiftly, adjusting microphones and ensuring the lighting was perfect. Journalists were already streaming in, setting up their equipment and chatting in low tones as they speculated about the announcement that had drawn such a crowd. Desmond had spent the morning pacing his office, his mood growing darker with each passing minute. Freya’s announcement had come with little warning, just a cryptic notification sent to his inbox the night before. He hated s
Desmond’s day started like any other, but by noon, his world was on fire. His name was being dragged through the mud, entwined in a brutal scandal and was splashed across every major financial news outlet and social media platform. The headlines were ruthless: "Corporate Kingpin Exposed: Internal Documents Reveal Mismanagement at Dexus Innovations.” The evidence was damning—leaked documents showing years of financial mismanagement, unethical practices, and reckless decisions that had placed the company on the brink of collapse. That wasn't all—Desmond was also accused of ruling his empire with an iron fist, suppressing his employees and making them feel insignificant.Desmond was left in a state of confusion as he didn't understand how such stories about him could be circulated. To the best of his knowledge, they were all lies. But unknown to him, Freya had leaked those internal documents to damage his reputation.Now, another board meeting was scheduled. The boardroom was chaotic.
6:12 PMFreya’s car purred to a halt in front of Desmond’s mansion, and as she looked out the window, her eyes rolled heavenward in disgust.The sleek lines of the building glinted under the harsh glow of the driveway lights, an unwelcoming beacon that altered Freya’s relaxed mood.She and Noah had been gone for weeks, settling down in an apartment she had bought for silent getaways.She needed to get away from Desmond for a while—almost as if she was deliberately avoiding him after all the devious things she had done to ruin him.And she got the break she needed. However, facing Desmond was going to be scary. Though he had no proof of her hand in his business being on the verge of collapse, she was afraid of what he might do to her. Desmond hadn't changed one bit. He was still as despicable as ever.She turned to Noah, a faint smile crossing her face. “Noah honey, let's go,” she said softly, patting him gently on his head.Noah only gave a slight nod and got out of the car. Freya wat
6:15 PMIt had been days since Desmond last saw Freya, ever since she revealed herself at his company's board meeting as the second-largest shareholder. Since then, he had been more disturbed and afraid.He sat at his desk in his dimly lit private office, the amber glow of his desk lamp casting long shadows across the room. Papers were strewn across the polished mahogany surface—financial reports, property damage assessments, and preliminary investigation notes on the warehouse fire that had been haunting him for weeks. He swirled a glass of whiskey in one hand, staring at the contents as though the answer to his problems might emerge from its depths.The warehouse fire had been a blow to him, but the uncertainty surrounding it had been worse. Despite the fact that his team’s investigation had been ongoing for weeks, the truth hadn't unfolded. And he still refused to believe it was an electrical malfunction.His team’s initial assessments were inconclusive, and the lack of clarity gn