?Chapter 302:


    Without wasting a second, Kristian dialed Gerard’s number.


    When the call connected, his voice was low, edged with tension. “What do you mean?”


    “Miss Bradley left Jeucwellst night,” Gerard exined. “It’s like someone’s been hiding her whereabouts. Should we send the top experts you hired to track her?”


    “No need,” Kristian replied, his voice firm.


    He wasn’t ready to resort to those experts unless it became absolutely necessary.


    Gerard sighed, his concern palpable.


    Kristian’s instincts told him there was more. “What’s bothering you?”


    “I just can’t help but feel for you,” Gerard said without hesitation. “Your ex has already left, and now your wife is about to walk out of your life. You’re about to be all alone again.”


    Kristian didn’t have the energy to argue. “Look into who Ashley’s been spending time with thesest two years. And check out the person in those photos fromst time.”


    “Got it,” Gerard replied promptly.


    After hanging up, Kristian copsed onto his bed, massaging his temples.


    Without a solid reason, postponing the divorce would be impossible.


    Amidst the storm of his thoughts, sleep finally overtook him.


    In his dreams, Freya appeared, a figure cloaked in ck leather. Her back was turned to him, surrounded by a group of bodyguards dressed in dark suits and sunsses.


    He tried to approach her, to demand the truth, but just as he got close, he felt the cold barrel of a gun pressed against his forehead.


    It was Freya holding it.


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    Her face was colder than he’d ever seen before, her expression as emotionless as stone. She pulled the trigger, and his world went dark. As death imed him, Freya’s voice echoed in his ears. “Mission aplished. Target neutralized.”


    Kristian jerked awake, his body soaked in sweat, his breathing in ragged gasps. His eyes narrowed, dark with the weight of the dream’s implications.


    Just then, his phone rang.


    After taking a moment to steady himself, he answered the call, recognizing Freya’s name on the screen. His brow furrowed, confusion mixing with the remnants of the dream. “Hello?” he answered, his voice rough.


    Freya paused, sensing the exhaustion in his voice. Could Gerard be telling the truth?


    “Where are you now?” she asked, probing for more information.


    “My home,” Kristian replied, his words slow, weighed down byck of sleep. “What’s going on?”


    “Gerard mentioned you were up all night searching for me, and that Felipe dragged you away for ate-night chat,” Freya said, her tone almost clinical. “I just wanted to know when you’d be ready for the divorce.”


    The word “divorce” struck Kristian like a thunderp, snapping him out of his fog.


    He realized that even if he were dying in a hospital bed, Freya would likely drag him out just to finalize the divorce.


    “Bring the papers ande to my ce to pick me up,” he said, his voice raspy but resolute. “I’ll get dressed and be ready.”


    Freya hesitated for a moment before agreeing. “Alright.”


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