?Chapter 366:


    “My ce.”


    “It’s the middle of the night,” she pointed out.


    “I’m aware,” Kristian replied.


    Freya didn’t push further. She wasn’t reckless enough to leap from a moving car or start a roadside argument—not out of fear, but for sheer practicality. Life was precious. She wouldn’t throw it away.


    Roughly an hourter, the car came to a stop. They had arrived at an upscale viplex. Freya quickly sent Melvin her location. If Kristian lost his mind tonight, someone needed to know where she was.


    Once parked, she trailed behind Kristian into the house. She knew his ways—he wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted. And if she slipped away tonight, he’d only resurface another day. She wasn’t about to let her life be haunted by his persistent shadow.


    Kristian opened the door and held it for her.


    Once she stepped inside, he locked the door behind them, pressing a button. It was a specialized lock—once sealed from the inside, it couldn’t be undone without a password, not even from within.


    Freya scanned the space—ck, white, and gray tones dominated, cold and clinical. Then she settled on the sofa. “So, what exactly did you bring me here to talk about?”


    “What’s your rtionship with him?” Kristian asked.


    “Friends. Boss and employee. Admirer and the one admired,” Freya replied smoothly. Kristian went silent. Her answer was a little too thorough.


    His insides burned, but there was nowhere to unleash the fire.


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    “Do you have a crush on him?” he asked again.


    “That’s my business. I owe you no exnations,” Freya retorted bluntly. “Why don’t you start by telling me why I’m even here?”


    Kristian stared at her, absorbing her distance, her cold tone. He knew she didn’t care for him anymore—but still, he said it. “I want us to get married again.”


    “I’ve already given you my answer,” Freya said, unflinching. She’d known this wasing.


    “You can name your terms,” Kristian offered, eyes unwavering, emotions unreadable.


    “Marriage and divorce aren’t a game,” Freya said firmly, her voice steady. “Whether it was done in haste or otherwise, you have to live with the oue.”


    Kristian’s brow furrowed.


    “Kristian,” Freya said his name with careful weight.


    He looked at her.


    “In your world, do you truly believe that when you ask for a divorce, I have to say yes, and when you decide you want to marry me again, I’m supposed to just fall in line?” Freya didn’t flinch as she asked the question that needed asking. “And if I refuse—does that mean I’m just being difficult?”


    The first thought that crossed Kristian’s mind was to say yes. Deep down, in the quiet corners of his heart, he clung to the belief that as long as he didn’t let go, Freya couldn’t say it was over. But believing something and saying it aloud were two very different things. He wouldn’t voice it. He knew too well that doing so would only ignite Freya’s temper.


    “No,” he said instead.


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