?Chapter 309:


    Taking a deep breath, Gerard steeled himself—mindful of the generous paycheck that necessitated such patience—and said, “Regarding the incident you asked me to look into, the assault on Ms. Briggs by several men…”


    Kristian cut him off before he could borate further, his voice icy.


    “Let’s talk about it tomorrow. Head over here now.”


    “To where exactly?” Gerard inquired, a note of hesitance in his tone.


    “My home,” Kristian replied crisply.


    “Yes, now,” Kristian said firmly, making it clear he wouldn’t entertain objections.


    Gerard knew better than to challenge themand.


    As Kristian’s assistant, his life was essentially dictated by his boss’s whims, save for those rare days off.


    Though he craved more freedom, the promise of big paychecks and generous bonuses held him back.


    Merely thirty minutester, Gerard arrived, dressed in his customary sharp suit and sses.


    Before he could even ask why he had been summoned, Kristian, perched nonchntly on the sofa, waved dismissively and said with a detached air, “Head down to the wine cer and bring up a selection of bottles.”


    “Wine?” Gerard blinked in confusion, wondering if he had heard correctly.


    With a piercing nce from Kristian, Gerard quicklyplied, descending into the cer to retrieve the wine. What followed was a silent ordeal, with Kristian wordlesslypelling him to down ss after ss.


    By the time they cracked open the third bottle, Gerard was visibly struggling, the room beginning to spin.


    L?t??τ чh?ρτ?r? ιn gɑl??οv?l?.сo??


    Kristian, well aware of his assistant’s limited tolerance, watched as Gerard teetered on the edge of inebriation. Once he saw that Gerard had reached his limit, Kristian reclined deeper into the sofa, his eyes unusually expressive.


    “Gerard.”


    “Yes…” Gerard’s voice trailed off as he copsed onto the sofa, his consciousness slipping away.


    “Why do you think Freya was so adamant about the divorce?” Kristian’s voice grew heavy, his eyes shadowed by the stirrings of alcohol-fueled introspection. “Ivished her with everything she desired.”


    At the mention of his idol, Gerard jerked upright, his cheeks flushed and his speech thick with alcohol. “It’s because she thinks you don’t measure up to her standards!”


    Kristian’s gaze sharpened.


    “You may be wealthy, attractive, and physically fit, but she is seeking a deeper emotional bond,” Gerard muttered, his loyalty to Freya clouding his thoughts. “With a philistine nature, you’re just not in her league!”


    “Is that so?” Kristian’s voice grew colder, an icy edge creeping in.


    Gerard shivered, but his resolve did not falter. “Yes, absolutely.”


    “Then tell me—who do you think has caught her eye?” Kristian probed, his gaze prating, as though trying to unearth secrets buried deep within Gerard’s words.


    If Gerard had been sober, caution would have been his shield.


    The trouble was, his drunken state left no room for prudence.


    “I believe… Mr. Trent Seymour,” he blurted out, his tongue loose from the wine.


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