?Chapter 414:


    No one could ever be certain if the road they took was the right one, or just the one that hurt less.


    Freya had no way of knowing whether Anita held any resentment toward Winslow in the end. But when Anita left this world, she did so with a quiet peace—no bitterness, no regrets in her heart.


    Winslow exhaled deeply, his sigh echoing a release of two years’ worth of pent-up emotions, umted over the course of their conversation.


    Looking to shift the atmosphere, he steered the conversation toward a lighter topic. “The other grandpa of yours might be nning to arrange a marriage for you soon,” he said, a note of caution in his voice. “If you need any help navigating that, don’t hesitate to call me.”


    “Alright,” Freya responded calmly.


    She wasn’t particrly concerned about the matter.


    Her paternal grandfather had no secrets or leverage against her, and the Briggs Group wasn’t in a position where a business marriage would provide any substantial benefit.


    She was firm in her resolve: no one could force her into an arranged marriage, and she would staunchly oppose such a situation.


    “Mina,” Winslow called out, seeking her attention.


    “Yes?” she replied, turning toward him.


    “No matter what, remember that I will always stand behind you. Just be true to yourself,” Winslow dered, his voiceden with sincerity. He had failed Anita once and was resolute in his determination not to let history repeat itself with Freya.


    Freya didn’t turn him down. “Alright,” she said with a soft nod.


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    That night, she ended up staying at Winslow’s ce.


    Unbeknownst to her, n and Kristian were getting drunk elsewhere—so drunk, in fact, that they somehow became fast friends over the course of the evening.


    Inside a dimly lit private room, Gerard and Toby sat rigidly, their backs straight as boards, barely daring to breathe.


    Their eyes kept shifting toward the two men sprawled on the couch—now sitting shoulder to shoulder, arms slung around each other like old drinking buddies. Both of their hearts thudded with tension.


    “Kristian,” n slurred, his cheeks flushed bright red from too many drinks. “You did Mina wrong. And as her cousin, I’m seriously not okay with that.” He paused, squinting at Kristian with an unsteady finger pointed at his face. “But… you’re good-looking, man. And Mina’s into guys like you.”


    The room fell into awkward silence.


    “Be honest with me—do you have feelings for Mina?” n pressed, his voice thick and his gaze bleary. He’d initially nned to get Kristian drunk first, loosen his lips, and then grill him about Mina.


    But the tables had turned quicker than expected; n had sumbed to the spirits far sooner than Kristian.


    Despite his professional demeanor at work, n’s true, talkative nature emerged in the warmth ofpanionship, transforming him into a relentless chatterbox.


    Kristian’s gaze deepened into a tangled mix of emotions, and after a thoughtful pause, he murmured, “I’m not sure.”


    His uncertainty wasn’t just a passing cloud; it was a storm that lingered over his feelings for Freya.


    He’d been thinking about the idea of remarrying her. The thought crossed his mind more often than he cared to admit.


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