?Chapter 911:


    “You got flowers.”


    Freya frowned. Where?


    Ellis leaned back, his tone easy but teasing. “Didn’t you once say I was as pretty as a flower? Were you pulling my leg?”


    Freya mped her mouth shut. Rookie mistake.


    Knowing this was a losing battle, she pivoted fast. “Scoot. I need water.”


    Ellis let go and straightened, handing her the cup he’d set aside.


    Freya didn’t take it, her eyes glued to the chair’s armrest.


    “Didn’t you say you wanted water?” Ellis arched a brow.


    “Ever thought about a checkup?” Freya said, all business, staring at the water stains on the armrest. “I read online that sweaty palms might mean health issues.”


    “Test if I’m strong or not?” Ellis chuckled. First, she ribbed him about his age. Now she was poking at his health. Freya grabbed the cup and sipped, dodging his question.


    Still, she couldn’t help wondering why he was so sweaty.


    Ellis caught her curious nce and read her like a book. “Nervous sweat. Don’t go doubting your boyfriend’s health like that.”


    “You get nervous?” Freya sidestepped the second half of hisment.


    Ellis flipped open the folder he’d brought, his mood bright. “You ever see someone confess without a case of the jitters?”


    “You’re the first.”


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    Ellis was at a loss for words.


    Freya set the cup on the desk and got serious. “Greta and Riley are both better choices than I. Prettier, too. Why not them?”


    If she were a guy, she figured she’d probably be into Greta or Riley. One was all spark and charm, the other wild and fearless. They were her kind of vibe.


    “You’d have to ask my heart,” Ellis said, tapping his chest. “It’s only got eyes for you.”


    Freya was tongue-tied.


    “Any ns to tie the knot soon?” Ellis tossed out, catching herpletely off guard.


    Freya blinked, stunned.


    “My ce needs a woman’s touch,” Ellis said, his tone unexpectedly serious. “I want you to be that woman.”


    “Weren’t we here to talk about Kristian?” Freya dodged, swiftly redirecting the conversation. “Let’s stick to that.”


    Ellis slid the open folder across to her, not pressing further. “Have a look.”


    Freya picked it up.


    One sheet was Kristian’s medical record, pulled from Lawrence. The other was a report from a different source.


    Freya studied the sheets with unwavering focus,bing through every word with meticulous attention.


    Ellis sat quietly beside her, his gaze fixed on her, observing every subtle movement. Her thickshes fluttered slightly, soft and delicate, like the wings of a butterfly.


    “Freya,” Ellis called her name gently.


    Freya turned toward him. “Yes?”


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