It was about five in the afternoon. Freya frantically alighted from the taxi, rushing into Noah's school with the aim of picking him up.She knew deep down that she was sorely late, as Noah's school hours always ended by the hour of three. She blamed herself for prioritizing her quest for participating in a cooking competition over her dear son who must have felt sad and lonely, being the only one left in school for a few hours.She was just coming back from making an application for the cooking competition. For about two weeks, she had been running around, trying to meet up with the criteria for participating in the competition as the requirements for participation were too much. She wished she had considered the stress involved before indulging in such a time consuming process.However, she was relieved that after all the work she had put in, she was deemed qualified to participate in the contest by the managerial board. The three-day cooking contest was scheduled for next week, aft
"Desmond!” Freya snarled, gritting her teeth in fury as she stormed towards the roadway, looking out for a taxi.Her face was red with anger and her fists clenched, her chest heaving intensely as she flagged down a taxi.With immediate urgency, she boarded the taxi and headed home. After all, she had no exact location in mind where Desmond could have taken Noah to. She feared that Noah might have led Desmond to their new house after being threatened and her heart skipped a bit at that scary thought.Soon, she arrived at her house and alighted quickly. But unfortunately for her, there was no sign of Noah or Desmond. They weren't at her house.Freya's heart race increased rapidly and her breath began to cease, she gasped for air as she consulted her brain for the most logical action to take or who to call for help.However, she resorted to reaching out to Desmond as he was the only one who could clear her doubts. After taking a deep breath, Freya dialed Desmond's number and waited patie
"I see you were bored at your workplace”, Desmond said sarcastically, his angry glare at Diego intensifying.Diego slowly turned to glance at Desmond, a sarcastic chuckle escaping his lungs.Freya and Noah sat still, in utter silence as if letting Diego do the talking on their behalf.“Yes I was. So I decided to come over here to ease my stress a little and spend time with “family”. You do realize I consider you family, right?” Diego said with a smirk, his tone thick with sarcasm.Desmond didn't utter any word. He fixed Diego with a glacial, threatening stare, his jaw stiff with disdain. Then he stole a glance at Diego's bodyguards who stood sentinel behind them.“I see you brought your “dogs” along. Were you expecting that I would attack you?” Desmond mocked, letting out a sarcastic chuckle afterwards.Diego chuckled slightly as well, a sarcastic grin plastered on his face.“Attack? Only one who can actually throw fists should use that term”.Freya watched the two men throw subtle sh
The most anticipated cooking contest of all times finally arrived.The bright yellow sun cast its warm glow on the Simmer and Spice restaurant, the venue of the contest. Freya stood outside, her heart racing with anticipation and a hint of nervousness. She had spent days preparing for this moment, perfecting her techniques and studying the judges' preferences. The restaurant's warm facade seemed to glow, inviting her into the culinary arena. She took a deep breath, smoothing her apron and mentally preparing for the “Spice Masters” contest.It was Friday. Noah had gone to school. The only support system she had, who had accompanied her to the contest's venue, was Diego. Their hands were entwined in agreed confidence as they walked towards the entrance of the restaurant.His genuine support, coupled with the fact that he dumped his office work for her event captured her heart. He had been a source of encouragement to her ever since she mentioned the contest to him, engaging her with lot
Tension filled the air as the contestants began cooking, each of them involved in some chopping, sauteing, slicing and the rest.Freya wiped the sweat from her forehead as she expertly sliced the succulent wagyu beef, her mind racing with the dish she was about to create. The aroma of sesame oil and soy sauce filled the air, mingling with the hum of ovens and the murmur of the contestants’ focused chatter.“Alright, chefs! You have one hour left to create your signature appetizer, blending the flavors of the East with the sophistication of the West!” the host announced, his voice echoing through the bustling kitchen.The host's announcement unsettled her, as she realized about thirty minutes had passed without her having done anything spectacular yet. Freya glanced around, keeping an eye out for her competitors who seemed to be way ahead of her. She noticed one of them handling what looked like a delicate fish filet, another, wrapping thin sheets of dough around a mysterious filling,
It was Freya's dish to be judged next. With feigned confidence, she appeared before the judges, a forced smile on her face to conceal her uneasiness.“Freya Dominic, what have you prepared for us?” One of the judges spoke, Judge Cristina Santos.“I made some pan-seared wagyu beef gyoza with truffle-ginger dipping sauce and microgreens salad”, she replied boldly, yet her heart pounded hard through her chest.“Interesting. I hope the meal is just as delicious as it sounds”, Judge Donald Jefferson said firmly with a stern expression.Freya nodded slightly, her feet turning cold instantly.The judges' table fell silent as they took their first bites of Freya's dish. The air was thick with anticipation, the only sound was the soft clinking of utensils on plates.Judge Donald closed his eyes, savoring the flavors. “Hmm, interesting combination”, he murmured, his expression unreadable.Freya's heart leaped a little at the somewhat positive feedback on her dish.Judge Frederick, a food critic
Freya stepped briskly out of the restaurant, her eyes scanning the surroundings for Diego, her chest heaving intensely in excitement.However, she saw no sign of him. Maybe he grew tired of the wait and left. Or it could be that he had some urgent work to do at the office. Her heart sank at the realization of him leaving without wanting to see her first. She couldn't blame him though. She shouldn't be a hindrance to his work.She slowly began to walk towards the roadway, with the aim of halting a taxi when two strong arms wrapped her shoulders from behind.Surprised and a little thrown off balance, she twisted her neck to see who it was. And it turned out to be who she thought it was, his lips curved in a broad smile.All the sense of tension and nervousness disappeared that instance as she set her eyes on him, her face lit up in a warm, relieved smile.“You thought I had left, didn't you?” He said into her ears in a low, inviting tone.Freya simply smiled warmly at him as she releas
The third day of the contest finally arrived. Freya had managed to cross the second stage to qualify for the grand finale, the most anticipated part of the cooking contest.Tension hung in the air as there were only three contestants left; the remaining five had been evicted.The audience witnessing the finale of the contest live sat in a section a little bit far from the kitchen so as not to distract the contestants. Some of them were relatives of the contestants, some, foodies and spice enthusiasts, while some were chefs and culinary experts.Unlike the first day of the contest, Freya was more relaxed and less worked up. She sized her competitors up, picturing herself as the winner of the contest already as she felt somewhat better than them, her culinary skills superior to theirs.Having in mind that Diego and Noah were seated amongst the audience, watching her closely in excitement, waiting to celebrate with her the moment she would emerge as the winner, she vowed within herself t
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