I just found a bug in my room!

Chapter 22

Micahel's POV

"Micahel, I'm so hurt," Emma said, her voice trembling with anger and desperation. "I need you to divorce that woman now! I'll do everything to make sure Grandpa hands over the inheritance to you, even without getting married." Emma said, emerging into the hallway few minutes after Freya had left.

I glared at her, my voice icy and controlled. "Why did you do it?"

Emma's eyes widened, blinking rapidly as if she was taken aback by my response. "What are you talking about, Micahel?" she asked, her voice sugary sweet, feigning innocence.

"Why did you come into my home, invading my privacy by raiding my room and..." I paused, my voice trailing off, uncertainty washing over me. The truth was, I didn't know whom to support in this situation.

"...fighting my wife?" I said. Emma's smile was instantaneous, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Your wife?" she repeated, her tone laced with sarcasm. "C'mon Michael, drop the act. She's your wife, but you have none of her belongings in your room. My portrait still stands in your room," she said confidently, her gaze never leaving mine.

I closed my eyes, a wave of frustration washing over me.

"How did you get the key to my room?" I asked quietly, my eyes narrowing. "Are you also trying to deem my ineligibility for the inheritance?"

Emma moved closer, her hands wrapping around mine. "Of course not, baby," she whispered. "I won't ever let Ambrose get the inheritance."

Her gaze locked onto mine, her voice taking on a desperate tone. "The truth was, I couldn't live with the thought of you being with another woman. Michael, you can ask her to leave." She cried.

As she reached out to touch my cheek, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw, I recoiled, backing away from her. It was a gesture I'd never made before, and Emma's eyes widened in shock.

Her question cut through the air like a sharp knife; "Do you love her?"

A man like me would have given her an immediate "no" response, but I was taken aback. I didn't say a word, my silence hanging in the air like a challenge.

"You don't love her," Emma said, her hands grasping my face, attempting to force me to meet her gaze. "Look at me, Michael. I know I wasn't around, and I can understand why you'd seek comfort elsewhere. But not anymore. Michael, I..."

I interrupted her, my voice firm and emotionless. "Don't you ever do that again, Emma. Don't you ever invade my privacy, and don't you ever touch Freya."

Emma's eyes widened, her face pale. "You're not choosing a girl like that over me?"

I kept my expression neutral. "She's my wife. And... Grandpa adores her." My voice dropped to a low tone with the last statement.

Emma's eyes flashed with anger. "Do you really trust that woman? How much more do you know about her? Unlike me, you know everything about me."

I looked away, her words striking a chord. She might be right; I didn't know anything about Freya. Her past, her secrets, her mysterious night-time excursions ; everything remained a mystery.

"I might have known you very well, but that was five years ago," I said, trying to shift the focus away from my troubled thoughts. "You left, remember? A lot of things would have changed about you."

Emma's smile was seductive, her voice husky. "Nothing has changed about me, Michael. I know you want me. I know I'm the only one who can make you so hard that...."

I cut her off, my eyes closing in frustration. "Emma, leave."

I pointed toward the exit, my voice firm. Emma's charm was potent, but I knew I had to resist. She just needed to be patient for six months.

"Michael, I..."

"Leave!" I ordered, striding away from her and toward my room, without giving her a second glance.

I stepped into my room, my mind a mix of conflicting emotions. Was I foolish for pushing Emma away or for lashing out at Freya? Both women were a constant source of frustration.

Just as I was lost in thought, Jason's call broke the silence. After a brief conversation, I set my phone aside and turned to the internet. The headline caught my eye:

[CEO of JENKINS Enterprise seen with an unfamiliar cowboy-looking lady]

My gaze dropped. Ambrose had never been linked to a woman, except for the mysterious workplace romance three years ago. Jason's parting words echoed in my mind: " Your Grandpa wants to meet the woman."

A surge of anxiety coursed through me. What if Ambrose got married and Grandpa decided to leave the inheritance to him? Grandpa's words came back to haunt me; "Don't let Freya cry."

I took a deep breath, my gaze fixed on the picture of the mysterious woman. Her face was hidden, but for a fleeting moment, I could have sworn I saw a resemblance to Freya. I dismissed the thought, reminding myself that this woman was taller, and besides, Ambrose had been absent for three years, only returning after my wedding. Moreover, Freya had been living at home her entire life. There was no way they could have met.

Shaking off the distracting thoughts, I headed to my wardrobe to change into something more comfortable after I've had my bath. As I picked a comfortable jersey, I heard a faint metallic click on the floor.

"What's that?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

I bent down to investigate and froze as I spotted a small bug recorder.

"What!" I exclaimed, wondering how it might have gotten there. The pieces fell into place, and a disturbing picture emerged. Emma must have planted the bug, likely in alliance with Ambrose.

My heart constricted at the thought of admitting Freya might be right. Her warnings about Emma now seemed eerily prophetic. Everything clicked into place.

"How dare you, Emma!" I seethed, fury boiling over. "How dare you make a fool of me!" Had the bug been here all along, since that night we kissed, or was it planted today?

I grabbed my phone and dialed Jason's numbered. "Jason, I just found a tracking device in my room. I think it's Emma, and she's teamed up with Ambrose."

Jason's response was cut off as I interrupted, my voice low and laced with hurt. "I've disconnected the damn bug! And now, Grandpa wants to see Ambrose, along with the mysterious woman from the picture."

I clenched my fists, a feeling of fear settling in.

"Now's the time," Jason said, his tone urgent.

"Time for what?" I asked, my mind a blank.

"Time to stick with Freya. Can't you see the bigger picture? Grandpa is asking Ambrose and that woman to meet with him. Who knows what might happen? Close the gaps of doubt and do what's necessary with your wife." Jason's words were firm, and I nodded, ending the call.

Twenty minutes passed before I gathered the courage to face Freya. I could remember how she had given me a piercing stare before turning her back on me and walking away. I was at a loss for how to approach her.

Taking a deep breath, I knocked twice on the door, the bug still clutched in my hand. "Leave, I want to be alone," came her icy reply.

"Freya, it's Michael," I said softly, closing my eyes and pressing my lips together. Only Freya could help me secure my inheritance. I knew I was being selfish, but I needed her now.

"I know. I need to be alone," she repeated, her voice firm but laced with hurt.

"There's a problem, Freya," I said firmly.

The door opened, with just that word. I locked eyes with her. Anxiety was etched on her face, like she was hiding something and scared of being caught.

I ought to be the anxious one, but instead, I wondered why Freya looked so scared. "What's going on?" she asked, her voice cold but laced with anxiety.

I held out the bug. "I found this in my room. You were right; Emma must have left it to spy on us."

Her eyes closed, and she took a deep breath. "I think the bug has been here for a while now." She said, her voice calm this time.

"What do you mean?" I asked, eagerness getting the better of me.

"Remember the night you kissed Emma, and I got upset? Ambrose called me and said the same words to me..."

I interrupted, my mind racing. "Wait! Ambrose called you? Why would Ambrose call you? Why would my stepbrother call my wife...behind my back?" I took a step closer, my eyes narrowing. Her expression suggested she wished she could take back her words.

Freya retreated, her voice barely above a whisper. "Michael..."