?Chapter 308:


    “What?” Trent asked, his curiosity piqued.


    “To block all his contact information,” Freya said, her fingers swiftly moving across the screen. “To cut ties with the past.”


    Trent hesitated, visibly taken aback by Freya’s words.


    After pondering for a moment, he replied, “Cutting ties with himpletely is out of the question. Not only are there ongoing partnerships between Briggs Group and Shaw Group, but if Kristian learns you revealed your real identity to his grandpa but kept him in the dark, he might pursue you even more aggressively.”


    “He wouldn’t behave like that,” Freya countered, her fingers swiftly removing Kristian’s contact. “There was never any real affection between us.”


    For him, their rtionship had merely been a matter ofpatibility.


    A knowing smile yed on Trent’s lips, his tone hinting at something more. “That might not be entirely urate.”


    Freya looked at him, confusion etching her features. What was he implying?


    Trent chose not to answer, instead focusing on driving them swiftly toward the airport.


    On their journey, Freya cast a nce over her shoulder at the back seat, her anxiety easing at the sight of herptop and essential documents safely with Trent.


    Elsewhere, when Kristian arrived at the family estate to meet Lionel, the butler told him that Lionel had left with friends and wouldn’t return for several days.


    Kristian was aware that his grandfather was unhappy with him for ending his marriage to Freya, but he remained unfazed. He was convinced that it was only a matter of time before he uncovered the truth about Freya, so he decided it was best to depart.


    That evening, he made his way back to his vi.


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    Though solitude was his usualpanion here, tonight the sprawling vi felt unusually deste, devoid of the faintest echo of warmth. He furrowed his brows together, wrestling with a persistent irritation that clung to him like a stubborn shadow.


    Lost in his thoughts, he meandered through the rooms and, without realizing it, found himself in the room Freya had once upied. Her personal effects were no longer there; only the random assortments purchased during her impulsive shopping sprees remained.


    Surveying each piece, he could picture her expression while choosing them and the way she looked at him. He was ensnared in these memories, unable to escape the haunting pull of the past.


    Memories lingered for a full two hours until the sharp ring of Gerard’s call pierced through his reverie.


    Startled by his own sentimentality, Kristian abruptly vacated the room, his face a mask of unease tinged with frustration, his ego refusing to bepromised.


    What on earth was he doing? A divorce was just that—a divorce; no reason to treat it like the end of the world. She possessed no virtues, her only talent being her uncanny ability to provoke his ire.


    Dispelling the lingering clouds of frustration, he finally answered Gerard’s persistent call, the phone pressed against his ear.


    The vi was awash in brilliant light, as if mocking the darkness of night, yet there Kristian stood, a lone figure in the second-floor corridor, enveloped by a profound istion that seemed to detach him entirely from the world outside.


    “Mr. Shaw?” Gerard called out once more, his voice echoing slightly, a testament to the unsettling quiet on the other end of the line. Kristian’s eyes were fixed on the sofa downstairs, lost in a vision of Freya lounging there, engrossed in her favorite TV dramas.


    When Gerard’s voice sliced through his reverie again, Kristian’s reply came through cold and detached. “Yes, what is it?”


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