?Chapter 750:


    “Don’t bother, then,” Kristian said stiffly, his eyes clouded darker than a stormy sea, nearly impossible to read. When he realized Freya truly hadn’t made the call, he turned on his heel and disappeared back into his room, shutting himself away without so much as a nce back.


    Freya couldn’t help but wonder at his reaction. She itched to grab her phone and fire off a message to Isaac, asking what on earth he had said to him, but just as her fingers hovered over the screen, Isaac’s name shed across it, calling her instead.


    “Kristian went back to his room, didn’t he?” Isaac wasted no time, his voice cutting straight to the heart of it.


    “He did!” Freya cast a wary nce around the living room. For a split second, she genuinely wondered if Isaac had bugged the ce.


    “I’ll swing by to see him after thepany’s annual party in a couple of days,” Isaac told her, his voice steady. “He’s really not the same kid he used to be.”


    Freya agreed easily, “Alright. Just let me know when you’reing and I’ll send someone to pick you up.”


    “Okay.”


    As soon as the call ended, Freya’s heart began to stir with unease.


    If this were truly just a case of simple amnesia, maybe, like Lawrence had said, Kristian would heal with time. Maybe one morning he’d wake up and be the man he once was.


    But right now, the Kristian in her ce felt so wrong.


    She had been nning to meet Lawrence the next day, but work obligations tied her hands, and with thepany’s annual party and a masked partyter that evening, she had no choice but to postpone it.


    The next morning, Kristian rose early, determined to make breakfast. However, he was met with an unexpected obstacle—the kitchen door was firmly locked.


    He stood there, frowning at the door, trying the handle again and again, but it wouldn’t budge.


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    The rattling sounds roused Freya from sleep. Just like the day before, she shuffled out in her pajamas, her hair a rumpled halo around her head. “The door’s locked.”


    Kristian froze at the sound of her voice. Instinctively, he turned and looked back at her.


    “Your hands still haven’t healed,” Freya said, her voice thick with sleep. “Be good and go back to bed. I’ve already ordered breakfast—you won’t go hungry.”


    “Is it because you don’t like my cooking?” Kristian mumbled, his head drooping low.


    “No, I’m just afraid you’ll hurt your hands even worse,” Freya replied gently.


    Kristian lifted his gaze slowly, his eyes searching her face as if asking, Really?


    “I have to leave for workter. You stay here with She,” Freya continued, trying to soothe him. “If you want anything or need anything, just tell her. She’ll call the bodyguard for you.”


    “Can I go to the office with you?” Kristian asked, voice small and hopeful.


    “No, you can’t,” Freya refused right away, not missing a beat. “Given your situation, if you show up, people will start talking.”


    The situation with Kristian was still being kept tightly under wraps; the media hadn’t gotten a whiff of it yet. But if he went outside, it would be impossible to hide the truth. His demeanor, his childlike mannerisms—they would give everything away in a heartbeat.


    Thest thing she needed now was another scandal.


    Kristian swallowed his disappointment hard and nodded. “Okay.”


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