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As a substitute, she wanted to leave but was rejected. She thought her husband might start to have feelings for her, but as it turned out, he simply wanted to wait for his first love to return before getting rid of her. Faced with their intimacy, she taught the sc**bag and his mistress a good lesson and left without hesitation, focusing on her career. However, her unfaithful ex-husband actually began to pester her... ===== "We'll divorce on Monday. Aside from the compensation in the agreement, you may request anything else you need." Kristian Shaw, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, exuded an air of cold detachment. His voice firm and emotionless. His piercing gaze settled on the silent woman opposite him, his eyes inscrutable. "Why so sudden?" Freya Briggs asked, her voice quieter than usual. Kristian's answer was blunt. "Ashley is back." Freya knew exactly who Ashley was. After a brief pause, she replied, "Okay." Kristian hesitated, caught off guard by her immediate acceptance. Freya opened the divorce papers, her thoughts drifting to the past. Two years ago, they had met at a n**htclub. She had been weighed down by worries; he had been nursing a broken heart. A few drinks later, they found solace in each other's company, talking late into the night. There had been no impulsive o*e-n**ht st*nd--just a quiet parting afterward. Three days later, he had returned with his assistant to propose marriage. And she had agreed. After getting married, he had treated her well--tending to her needs, drying her hair with gentle hands, and solving her problems before she even voiced them. Their relationship had been perfect--until six months ago, when a single phone call changed everything. Overnight, he grew distant, his warmth replaced by icy indifference. That was when she learned the truth: Kristian had married her because she bore a faint resemblance to his lost love, Ashley Bradley. The memory made Freya press her lips together before she asked lightly, "You said I could ask for compensation, right?" "Yes," Kristian replied flatly. "Anything I want?" She lifted her gaze to him, her delicate face devoid of its usual brightness. For a fleeting moment, guilt flickered in his ch*st. "Yes." He had already resolved to grant her reasonable demands. After all, she had been good to him all the time. Freya's voice was steady. "Then I want the most expensive car in your garage." "Fine," Kristian agreed. "A villa in the suburbs," she added. "Done," he said. Freya smiled. "And a share of the money you've earned in the last two years." For the first time, Kristian's composure cracked. His eyes narrowed slightly, as if questioning whether he'd heard correctly. "What did you say?" Freya, unfazed, repeated her demand. "Our earnings during the marriage count as marital property, don't they? Based on my calculations--excluding investments--your salary and dividends over the last two years amount to several billion. I don't want much--just 40%." A heavy silence settled between them. Then, she added, as if casually mentioning the weather, "Of course, you're welcome to take 40% of my income too." Kristian's patience finally snapped. "Freya!" His voice carried an edge of disbelief. Had he really felt guilty earlier? How had he never noticed her greed? Freya met his gaze evenly. "Is that not acceptable?" Absolutely not. Kristian dismissed the idea instantly. "Then forget it." Freya set down her pen. "Next time I see your family, I'll bring up your emotional infidelity. I'm sure they'll take my side." Kristian's expression darkened, his stare turning glacial. He hadn't anticipated this side of her--realizing now that her past docility had been an act. "Do you really want to negotiate with me like this?" he demanded. "Yes." Freya held his gaze without flinching. She knew he despised threats--but she despised infidelity more. "Fine." Kristian's eyes turned stormy, his voice glacial. "You'll get what you want. But if the divorce hits complications, you'll regret it." Freya leaned back in her chair, her tone razor-sharp. "Kristian Shaw, is that a threat?" This version of her was foreign to Kristian. For two years, she'd been the picture of compliance--gentle, accommodating, never defiant. Now, she met his anger with unshakable calm. "No." Already calculating countermeasures, he bit out, "You'll have the assets. We divorce on Monday." Freya's lashes lowered briefly before she added, "One more condition." "Speak." His patience frayed. "Take me shopping tomorrow." She ignored the frost radiating from him. "Afterward, we'll tell your family together that I ended things." "Deal," Kristian conceded. With that, he strode toward the door, unable to stomach another second in her presence. Earlier, he'd even considered granting her a grace period to process the divorce. How laughable. She couldn't wait to carve up his fortune and be rid of him. Had Freya been able to read his thoughts, she might have laughed and said, "That little money? Do you really think I care?" Kristian reached the door and halted. Without turning around, he said, "I won't be back tonight. I'll pick you up at nine tomorrow morning. Make a list of the stores you want to visit." Freya's voice followed him, calm but laced with something sharp. "Are you going to see Ashley Bradley?" Kristian's jaw tightened. "That's none of your business." Freya let out a quiet breath, as if she had already expected that answer. "I don't tolerate cheating," she said plainly. "So before the divorce is finalized, you'd better not end up in b*d with her." Kristian whirled back, looming over her. Freya didn't blink. "What? Can't endure two more days?" "I understand your bitterness," he said, eerily composed, "but lashing out won't help. This is a divorce, not war." Freya blinked at him. For a moment, she was at a loss for words. This man was truly shameless. Kristian didn't wait for a response. "Good night." And with that, he turned and left. The door clicked shut behind him. Freya's gaze drifted down to the divorce papers still lying on the table. She stood there for a long time, unmoving. To say she felt nothing would have been a lie. She wasn't made of stone. The moment she discovered she was nothing more than a stand-in, the hurt had settled deep in her bones. Kristian had been her first love. In twenty-four years, no one else had breached her defenses. Before the betrayal, he'd been perfection itself--attentive, steady, silencing every doubt with his quiet devotion. So when she learned of Ashley, she'd offered to leave. To free him. But he'd refused. Chapter 2 Kristian Was Pure S**mbag The reason behind Kristian's refusal was simple. Before Ashley returned, he needed someone to manage his elders at home--and Freya, adored by his parents and grandpa, was the obvious choice. But sometimes, Freya couldn't help but wonder--did he really think she was a f*ol? Otherwise, why would he assume she'd play along in hiding his a**air? Now, with his sudden demand for divorce, frustration simmered inside her. Even after six months of steeling herself, a stubborn flicker of emotion remained. She let out a slow breath, crossed to the sofa, and grabbed her phone. She tapped the contact labeled "Fred"--untouched for two years--and typed, "Check if Shaw Group's facing any issues. And find out if Kristian's terminally ill." Fred's replies exploded onto the screen instantly. "Holy--Freya?!" "Never thought I'd hear from you again!" "Two years, Freya. TWO." "Where've you been?!" She didn't bother explaining. Mood sour, she fired back a single word, "Check." Fred caved. "On it!" She tossed the phone aside and waited. If Kristian was divorcing her to spare her some tragedy, she'd forgive him--maybe even help. But if he was just an unfaithful j**k? She'd drop him without a second thought. Thirty minutes later, her phone buzzed with Fred's verdict. "Zero troubles. No illness, no crisis. Why the h*ll are you asking? Kristian's loaded, hot, and sharp--you two are a match. Don't you like pretty boys? Give it a shot!" She ignored the jab and shot back, "You are so blind." Then she silenced her phone. No external factors meant only one thing--Kristian was pure s*um. Fred stared at his screen, baffled. Did Freya wake up in a mood today? Freya's gaze landed on the divorce papers. After a pause, she snatched a pen, scrawled her name, and shoved them into a drawer. Then she headed for the shower. When she emerged, her phone was a disaster--dozens of unread messages and 32 missed calls. No guessing needed. Frederick Price--aka Fred--had clearly blabbed about her resurrection to the entire world. Towel draped over her damp hair, she reached for her phone--only for it to ring again. The caller ID flashed; it was her father. Her ch*st tightened. Two years of silence, and now he called? She'd left Alerith City due to a situation involving her mother, and neither had she reached out to her father nor had he contacted her--until now. After a pause, she answered coolly. "Hello." Silence. Freya, never one for patience, was about to hang up when Hugh Briggs' raspy voice cut through. "Mina." That name clawed at buried memories. "What do you want?" she asked flatly. Hugh hesitated, guilt threading his words. "Frederick told me you reached out. Said you were digging into Kristian. Need help?" "No." Freya had no interest in his involvement. A beat passed before Hugh ventured, "What's your relationship with him?" "A couple." She let the word hang. "About to divorce." Hugh's breath hitched. She was married? "You--" he started. "If that's all, I'm done." Freya didn't want to waste any more breath on him. "Wait!" he rushed. She held her tongue. The line crackled with tension. Finally, he muttered, "When are you coming back? That woman's gone." Then, hastily, he added, "Your mom's belongings are untouched." Her fingers tightened around the phone. For a flicker, emotion crossed her face--then vanished. "Noted." She hung up before he could protest. Hugh stared at the dead line, frustration curdling in his ch*st. He hadn't even asked about her marriage. Freya didn't spare him another thought. She flicked her phone to airplane mode, towel-dried her hair, and collapsed into b*d. The night passed without dreams. By eight the next morning, she was up--dressed and breakfasted. Today, she'd taken care with her makeup. Her skin glowed; her lips, naturally full, needed no enhancement. But her eyes--sharp, luminous--were the real weapon. Her smile was bright, bringing a warmth that could instantly lift anyone's spirits. When Kristian arrived, she was already waiting on the sofa. Her shoulder-length hair was pinned back, bangs swept up under a black beret. At the sight of him, she rose gracefully, reaching for a coat and draping it over her shoulder. "Let's go." She grabbed her purse, her tone composed and unbothered. Kristian didn't move. His tailored suit emphasized his height as he said, "Not today." Freya stilled. "I have other commitments." His voice was indifferent. His gaze lingered--too long--on her face. "Tomorrow." "Kristian Shaw." Her tone was a warning. He disliked it instantly. "I put on makeup today," she said, her voice deceptively calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. "If you want our divorce to go smoothly on Monday, push aside whatever plans you have. I don't deal with people who break their promises." Kristian's eyes narrowed. After a silent calculation, he stepped out to make a call. Fragments floated back--Ashley... hospital... follow-up. Freya's grip on her purse turned white-knuckled. Inside, she seethed. Even now, Ashley occupied his thoughts completely. Kristian missed Freya's fury. All he saw was how she shone today--vibrant, untamed. Nothing like the subdued woman he knew. After hanging up, he inquired where she wanted to shop. Freya mentioned the largest luxury mall in town. This wasn't shopping. This was a spree. By 10 AM, the four bodyguards trailed behind her like pack mules--arms stacked with watches, jewels, designer bags. Kristian's phone chimed nonstop with alerts. As Freya strode into yet another jewelry boutique, his jaw hardened. This wasn't retail therapy; she was intentionally trying to irritate him. Chapter 3 Why Hurt Ashley? Gerard Todd, Kristian's ever-dutiful assistant, hesitated for a moment before asking, "Sir, should I go ahead and book a restaurant?" Kristian massaged his temples, irritation flashing across his face. "No need." He knew Freya was venting her frustration. If splurging eased her temper, so be it--he'd let her spend freely. The moment the words left his mouth, his phone vibrated. Another alert flashed--over thirty million had just vanished from his account. Gerard averted his eyes, while the four bodyguards stood stiffly, arms laden with shopping bags like silent, overburdened mules. Freya strode out of the jewelry boutique and casually handed her latest purchase to Gerard, whose hands were conspicuously empty. Just as she turned to continue her spree, Kristian's phone rang. His posture shifted instantly. The tension in his shoulders eased, his frown softening as he glanced at the caller ID. Long fingers cradled the phone, his voice uncharacteristically tender as he answered. "Hello, Ashley." Gerard and the bodyguards exchanged startled glances. Had their boss forgotten Freya was standing right there? "Ashley was in a car accident on her way to a hospital follow-up. She's unconscious--still in surgery," the voice on the line blurted, frantic. "Please come. She kept calling your name before they took her in." "Send the address. I'm on my way." Kristian's ch*st constricted, the words sharp with urgency. He ended the call, his gaze flickering to Freya. An explanation hovered on his lips, but he swallowed it. Instead, he turned to Gerard and the bodyguards. "Stay with her. Buy whatever she wants. If it doesn't fit in the car, have it delivered by this afternoon." "Yes, sir," the five men chorused. Without another word, Kristian strode off, leaving Freya and the others in his wake. An uncomfortable silence settled over the group. Gerard adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, forcing a polished smile. "Mrs. Shaw, don't worry. Mr. Shaw will return once he handles matters." "What a loyal employee," Freya murmured, her tone laced with something unreadable. Gerard blinked, thrown by her response. Freya studied the mall's glittering chandeliers, her voice deliberate. "Being his assistant is one thing. But cleaning up his messes? Tell me, Gerard--have you ever seen a man ditch his wife mid-date to run to his mi**ress?" The bodyguards stiffened; Gerard's smile froze. For a heartbeat, all five men stared at her with something dangerously close to pity. This might be the price of marrying into wealth--knowing her husband had left her for another woman while she was expected to swallow the insult. "Save the sympathy." Freya scoffed, amused by their expressions. She gestured to the bags weighing them down. "A single one of those could cover your salary for a year. Maybe ten." The blow landed perfectly. She pressed, "Well, anything you'd like?" Five pairs of eyes widened in unison. Freya's mind worked in ways they couldn't follow. "Since he's off playing hero for his darling, let's put his money to better use." She twirled the black card between her fingers, her voice quieter now. The sting surprised her. She hadn't realized Kristian's departure would still claw at her. Right now, all she wanted was to drain his account dry. Gerard and the bodyguards gaped. Delighted by their shock, Freya resumed shopping, the card clutched like a weapon. She assumed Kristian would linger at the hospital all day. But as she sat down to eat, he appeared like a storm, his presence slicing through the restaurant's warmth. Before anyone could react, he seized Freya's wrist and hauled her toward the parking area, his grip ironclad. Her back slammed against the car door, pain radiating through her. She winced. What the hell was his problem? His accusation came like a whip crack, "Why hurt Ashley?" Kristian trembled with suppressed rage. "You hired that hit-and-run driver, didn't you? I gave you everything you wanted, the house, the car, the money. What more do you want? Why did you still hurt her?" He looked like vengeance personified, his eyes glacial. "When did I--" Freya's confusion was genuine. "Still lying?" His voice could've frosted glass. "You planned this. Picked today so I'd be distracted while your hired man ran her down. You know I'd die before letting her suffer." His voice was Arctic frost, the kind that seeped into bones and made spines stiffen. Freya's initial fury dissolved into something colder, sharper. His absurd accusation had an ironic effect--it drained her rage, leaving only icy clarity. She met his gaze, lips curling in derision. "How poetic. Turning betrayal into some grand romance." "Freya Briggs!" Kristian's control frayed, his shout raw with warning. "You're delusional." She didn't flinch, status be damned. "Think. Why would I trash my fresh start--my freedom--over someone like her?" "You know exactly why." His voice dropped lower, a bl**e pressed to her throat. A realization flickered. "Ah. You think I'm still obsessed with you?" Kristian said nothing, but his clenched jaw and the fire in his eyes were answer enough. "Why should I still want you?" Freya laughed, the sound brittle. "After being treated as a stand-in? After your infidelity? After watching you fawn over another woman?" The words landed like sl*ps. Kristian stiffened. "I didn't cheat," he ground out. "You handed her your heart while wearing my ring." Her smile was lethal. "That's cheating." "Enough deflection," he snapped. "You're the one hallucinating conspiracies!" Silence. Kristian studied her, as if peeling back layers for the first time. The weight of his scrutiny was suffocating. Freya refused to wilt. "So she claimed I hired a man to k*ll her, and you just... believed her?" "Yes." His anger faltered under her unwavering stare, but the frost remained. "Ashley didn't lie. And she has proof." Freya's brows arched. Her fingers dug into her bag strap, knuckles whitening. "Perfect. Let's go to the hospital. Right now." Kristian blinked. Her immediate agreement threw him. Guilty people didn't invite confrontation. Doubt slithered in. Was the evidence fabricated? "Move." Her command shattered his thoughts. He released her wrist, disconcerted by her detachment. Something ugly twisted in his ch*st--annoyance? Guilt? Before he could name it, he yanked out his keys and wrenched the car door open. Chapter 4 Are You Threatening Me? Gerard stepped forward swiftly to take the keys, assuming the role of driver without hesitation. Freya yanked the passenger door open and slid inside, her gaze fixed straight ahead--ignoring Kristian entirely. A knot of dread tightened in Gerard's ch*st. What if Freya said something outrageous? The thought made his fingers clench around the wheel. After a weighted pause, he ventured, "Mrs. Shaw, you--" "Drive." Her reply was a bl**e, sharp and final. Gerard flicked a glance at the rearview mirror. Kristian's expression gave nothing away. Swallowing hard, he pulled out of the parking area. Silence smothered the car like a thick fog. The tension was unbearable. Gerard's shoulders tensed, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white. Neither Kristian nor Freya spoke. Both radiated a frost so deep it could've cracked the windows. Gerard knew Kristian's moods well--but Freya? She'd been almost cheerful earlier. What the hell happened? He bit back a sigh. Questions wouldn't help now. In the back seat, Kristian's gaze drifted unbidden to Freya's profile. Something unfamiliar twisted in his ch*st--an emotion he refused to name. Thirty minutes later, the car halted at the hospital entrance. Kristian seized Freya's wrist, dragging her toward the VIP ward. His grip was iron, unyielding. She winced, her voice dripping with mockery. "At this rate, I won't be the one charged--you'll be arrested for assault first." He dropped her arm like it burned him. Angry red marks circled her skin. Freya shot him a look so scathing it could've melted steel. Guilt flickered in Kristian's ch*st--brief, unwelcome. It vanished the moment Ashley's bruised face flashed in his mind. "Follow me," he muttered, turning on his heel. He didn't wait to see if Freya obeyed. The door swung open. Ashley lay propped up in b*d, her face lighting up at the sight of Kristian. "Kristian," she breathed, voice sweet with devotion. He was at her side in an instant, fingers brushing hers in silent reassurance. Freya strode in, took one look at them, and smirked. "Should I leave? Give you two some privacy?" "Freya. Enough." Kristian's voice was winter itself. He didn't look at Freya, his hand still resting on Ashley's back. "You're here to apologize." Freya closed the distance to the b*d, studying Ashley properly for the first time--soft features, delicate frame, eyes wide with practiced innocence. Ah. Now she understood. This was the woman Kristian loved. "Miss Bradley." Freya laced her fingers together. "My darling tells me you've accused me of hiring your attacker--with evidence." She stressed the word, gaze locked on Kristian. "Care to share?" "Kristian..." Ashley's fingers tightened around his, her lower lip trembling... ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &5&

She had always believed she was the nanny's daughter, so she took the fall for the real heiress and went to prison to make amends. Behind bars, she learned the truth: she was not related to the nanny, or to her adoptive parents, at all. They had known the truth and kept it from her. Sixteen years of lies. Four years in prison. Her whole life had been a cruel joke. The day she got out, she came for the elite family that had ruined her. ===== "Evelina, you've been given a second chance. Stay out of trouble and live your life properly from now on." The prison gates slammed shut behind Evelina Brooks, cutting off the guard's stern warning. Evelina stood outside the prison entrance, slowly tightening her grip on the worn backpack in her hand as a cold look settled in her eyes. There was no way she would repeat the same mistake. This time, the people who had committed the real crime and pushed her out as the scapegoat would pay for what they'd done. Not far away, three black Porsche Cayennes were lined up along the roadside. When Evelina looked over, the rear door of the middle SUV slowly opened, though no one stepped out. Evelina walked over without hesitation and stopped beside the open door, but she didn't get in right away. Through the doorway, she finally saw the infamous head of the Payne Group for the first time. The man was rumored to be ruthless and impossible to predict. Connor Payne wore gold-rimmed glasses that softened his appearance and gave him the look of a refined scholar. But that gentle impression couldn't hide the sharpness in his features. His tall frame filled the back seat easily, his broad shoulders and long legs giving off a quiet sense of pressure. Sunlight streamed through the open car door and reflected off the luxury watch on his wrist. The limited-edition piece was one of only three in the world, and the diamonds embedded in it glimmered with a cold light. "You're Evelina Brooks?" Connor's deep voice carried an almost lazy calmness, though the faint mockery beneath it was impossible to miss. "I expected the woman who crashed the stock market overnight to look a little more impressive." Evelina let out a faint scoff. Her face had become so thin and pale that it was nearly unrecognizable, making her eyes appear even larger. She looked directly at him, her gaze flat and emotionless, still as dead water. She didn't waste time exchanging pleasantries. "Fifty million dollars. A car. A house. A driver. Three days from now, I'll hand you a new plan." Connor lightly tapped his fingers against his knee as he studied her eyes. Then the corners of his lips slowly curved upward into a smile filled with interest. He actually liked the look in her eyes. She reminded him of a lone wolf wandering the desert, fierce, dangerous, and ready to strike at any moment. "The lead car is yours from now on. Jake Blake will drive for you. Cayson, transfer Villa No. 8 in Aurora Bay to Miss Brooks immediately. And arrange for a few people to take care of her daily needs." As he spoke, Connor pulled out a black card and held it toward her. His fingers were pale and slender, almost too refined, carrying the fragile beauty of someone who looked as though he might break with a touch. But Evelina had once watched a video of him using those same elegant hands to crush a traitor's arm while wearing a mesmerizing smile the entire time. "This card has a three-hundred-million-dollar credit limit." Even though Evelina already knew Connor was outrageously generous when it suited him, she was still caught off guard by the scale of it. The cheapest villa in Aurora Bay cost tens of millions. Now he was also handing her a black card worth three hundred million without hesitation. Wasn't he worried she might simply take everything and disappear? Cayson Scott, seated in the front passenger seat, was so shocked his eyes nearly popped out. Since when had Connor become this easygoing? And for a woman who had just gotten out of prison, no less. If any of the women who once chased after Connor had dared make demands-even the smallest one like holding the door for them, they probably would've disappeared before sunrise. Evelina's eyes flickered slightly before she calmly accepted the black card. Under the sunlight, her pale lips slowly curved into a cold, unsettling smile. "Within one month, my new plan will earn you at least a billion dollars in profit. Your fifty million won't just pay off. It'll be the best investment you've ever made. After that, we can discuss a long-term partnership." Her voice remained calm and steady, without arrogance or false modesty. Only a blazing excitement burned beneath it, sharp enough to sound almost dangerous. Cayson was already beginning to suspect that Evelina didn't have any real ability at all and was simply trying to swindle them out of a fortune before disappearing. Connor, however, only raised an interested eyebrow. Leaning back against the seat with effortless composure, he replied calmly, "Alright." He didn't ask a single additional question. It was as though Evelina had casually tossed out a live bomb, while to Connor, it was no more threatening than a small firecracker during the holidays. That quiet "Alright" from him somehow felt even more unsettling to Cayson than Evelina's promise to earn him a billion dollars in just one month. "Then I'll wait for your good news, Miss Brooks." As soon as he finished speaking, the door slowly closed. The Cayenne made a smooth U-turn, sweeping past the hem of Evelina's faded denim skirt before driving away. Evelina remained standing in place, the sharp edge of the black card pressing into her palm. The back of her hand was covered in crossing scars that ruined the smooth skin that had once been delicate. The sight was shocking to look at. At that moment, a man stepped out of the car that had remained behind and respectfully opened the rear door for her. Evelina had just lifted her foot to get into the car when the sharp screech of brakes suddenly echoed from nearby. A Rolls-Royce sped in from another road and came to an abrupt stop behind her. The door swung open, and Sam Brooks, Evelina's brother, stepped out in a custom-tailored light gray suit. "Eve, I've come to take you home." Chapter 2 It Was All A Lie Evelina tightened her grip, and the sharp edge of the black card dug painfully into her palm. She slowly turned around. The wind swept her hair aside, exposing her pale face as her eyes met Sam's directly. Sam froze for a moment. Her appearance had changed too much. So had the air around her. A trace of discomfort flashed through his eyes. "Eve, everyone makes mistakes. What matters is learning from them. You've suffered enough these past four years, but Mom, Dad, and I have already forgiven you. You're still part of the Brooks family. That home will always have a place for you." Evelina nearly laughed at the absurdity of it. "You've forgiven me? Still part of the Brooks family? None of you visited me even once in those four years. So why pretend to be a caring family now?" "Evelina!" Sam's expression darkened instantly. "Watch your tone when you speak to me. Is this how we taught you to behave? Where are your manners? What exactly happened to you?" What happened to her? Evelina's eyes slowly reddened, but she stubbornly forced the tears back. A faint pink scar stretched across her otherwise pale neck. Under the sunlight, it looked rough and ugly. She got that scar during her first year in prison. Someone had attacked her in the middle of the night with a sharpened toothbrush. If the wound had gone even a little deeper, she would've died then and there. Back then, she hadn't understood why everyone hated her so much. She thought she deserved it for taking over sixteen years of Jolie Brooks' life and stealing the identity of the Brooks family's real daughter. The guilt had nearly crushed her. She even believed she should pay for her biological mother's crime. According to the story everyone told her, the Brooks family's nanny had secretly switched the two babies at birth. Then, when she was already being tortured to the point of breaking, Connor sent her the truth. The evidence proved she had absolutely no bl**d relation to that nanny that she believed to be her biological mother. She had never been switched at birth. It was all a lie fabricated by Jolie to reclaim her place in the Brooks family. And the most ridiculous part was that the Brooks family had known the truth from the very beginning. Yet because of those lies, Evelina had been labeled the fake heiress and forced to endure endless hatred and humiliation from every direction. The Brooks family forced Evelina to hand every one of her achievements over to Jolie. In the end, they even pushed her into prison to take the blame for Jolie's crimes. Inside that prison, she suffered through torment that nearly ki**ed her. The moment Evelina learned the truth, something inside her completely shattered. She stopped enduring her inmates' abuse in silence. One by one, she retaliated against everyone who had hurt her with ruthless, merciless force. Only then did she finally realize where all the cruelty she endured in prison had really come from. Jolie wanted her dead. And the cruelest part was that Evelina had gone to prison for Jolie in the first place. Sam frowned deeply at the coldness in her expression. "When you get home, you should properly thank Jolie. You only got released early because she begged the Warren family on your behalf. And for the past four years, she's been taking care of Millie, after you put her in a coma. That's the only reason the Warren family finally let this matter go. You owe Jolie more than ever now." Evelina let out a cold, furious laugh. "Sam, you're unbelievably st**id. After four years, you still don't know who really hurt Millie? Jolie kept sending people after me in prison because she wanted me dead, so the truth stays buried. But forget that for now. Why don't you investigate what happened to every single one of those people afterward? And since you're seeing Jolie soon, tell her to wait for me. I'm going to settle everything." After saying that, she walked straight toward the Porsche Cayenne Connor had left for her and got inside. The driver respectfully closed the car door behind her. Before getting back into the driver's seat, he shot Sam a cold glance. The engine roared to life. With a sharp turn, the SUV sped away. Dust from the tires swept into the air, partially blurring Sam's vision. He stood there watching the luxury Cayenne disappear into the distance, disbelief written all over his face. Whose car was that? And what exactly did Evelina mean by all those accusations? Sam refused to believe a single word Evelina had said. Jolie was far too kindhearted. There was no way she would've sent people to hurt Evelina. He drew in a slow breath. "It's already been four years. I honestly thought prison would've changed her for the better. But she's still the same vicious person she used to be. Now she's even trying to frame Jolie. She's completely beyond saving." Sam turned and walked back toward his car. The sharp sound of his custom leather shoes echoed against the pavement as a cold fury settled over him. "She already harmed Millie once. I won't let her hurt Jolie too. And if she still refuses to repent, I'll personally send her back to prison." Chapter 3 He Would Give Her Everything She Wanted At Villa No. 8 in the exclusive Aurora Bay. Only after Evelina stepped inside did she realize the villa sat in the most desirable spot in the entire district. It was also the most expensive property there, worth more than twenty million dollars. She stood beneath the bright lights of the wide foyer, her gaze drifting across the luxurious interior. A cold smile touched her cracked lips. She believed every bit of it belonged to her. Back in prison, the moment she learned the truth, she'd completely fallen apart. The guards had thrown her into solitary confinement, the kind reserved for the most dangerous inmates, and kept her there for an entire month. When she was finally released from solitary, one of Connor's men came to see her and offered her two options. The first was to spend the rest of her life rotting away in prison like ga**age. The second was to become Connor's loyal dog. If she obeyed him, he'd give her everything she wanted, including the opportunity to take revenge. She chose the second. But after gaining access to the resources Connor provided, she manipulated the market overnight and nearly destroyed the new stock his company had just released. So when Connor's man visited her again, she already had bargaining power. She told him plainly that she wouldn't be anyone's dog or puppet. If they were going to work together, then it would be as equals. Her early release from prison came after she mastered everything Connor needed her to learn. Besides, the plan she and Connor had built together was already about to begin, and they couldn't afford any delays. So everything she owned now was simply part of their agreement. The bathroom alone was ten times bigger than the cramped four-person prison cell she used to share. Evelina soaked herself in the hot bath and savored the warmth. When she stepped out of the bathroom wearing a robe, she heard a man's voice from downstairs. It belonged to Jake, her driver and assistant. "Miss Brooks, Mr. Payne sent some things over." She walked to the railing on the second floor and looked down. A line of bodyguards dressed in black stood inside the hall, each carrying pieces from the latest designer collections, including jewelry and luxury clothing. Nearby, rows of shoes had already been arranged neatly in place. A trace of surprise flickered through her eyes. She hadn't expected a man as reckless and unpredictable as Connor to be this attentive. "Put everything in the dressing room." She lifted a hand casually and accepted the gifts without hesitation. Leaning against the second-floor railing, she watched the staff move busily around the villa for her sake. For the first time, the feeling truly settled in. She had escaped that living h**l and returned to a normal life. As for the people who had hurt her, deceived her, and betrayed her, none of them would get away with it. Every member of the Brooks family would pay the price, one by one. "Jake, I need you to investigate a few people for me." … Meanwhile, Sam returned to the Brooks family estate by himself. Jolie had already prepared herself to put on a show, but the moment she noticed Evelina wasn't with him, her expression shifted slightly. She quickly forced out a few tears before walking toward him with a hurt expression. "Sam, did Evelina refuse to come home with you? Is she still angry at me? Does she really think I stole her place? But this is my home too." Seeing Jolie's gentle and fragile appearance only made Sam more certain that Evelina's earlier accusations had been cruel lies. He pulled Jolie into his arms, feeling sorry for her, and spoke softly to comfort her. "Evelina's completely changed. She argued with me, then got into some stranger's car and drove off." Their mother, Eliza Brooks, slammed her coffee cup onto the table in anger. "She's a convicted criminal! The Brooks family is already showing her mercy by letting her come back, yet she still has the nerve to throw a fit?" Jolie immediately looked anxious. "Do you know whose car it was? Where did she go? I need to find her and apologize. I have to convince her to come home." Sam quickly stopped her and guided her back onto the sofa. "Don't go looking for her. She won't last long outside by herself. Once she realizes that, she'll come back on her own." Eliza interjected coldly, "Jolie, you don't owe Evelina anything. If anyone should suffer, it's her. She hasn't paid for what she's done yet, so don't pity her. I'll send people to bring her back myself. This is far from over, and she'll stay here and continue reflecting on her mistakes." Realizing she wouldn't get any more useful information from them, Jolie quickly wiped away her tears. Then she pretended to sway weakly from dizziness. "Mom, Sam, I suddenly don't feel well. I think I should go upstairs and rest for a while." The moment Eliza heard that, both anger and pity surged through her. "This is all Evelina's fault! If it weren't for her, Jolie would've never suffered so much. She wouldn't have had such a difficult childhood, and her health wouldn't be this fragile. We've taken such good care of her, yet she still hasn't fully recovered. Just wait until I find Evelina. I'll make sure she learns her lesson!" She then turned to Jolie and added softly, "Sweetheart, go upstairs and rest. I'll ask the kitchen to prepare some nourishing soup for you later." Jolie nodded obediently. Then she deliberately wrapped her hand around Sam's arm. "Sam, don't be too hard on Evelina when she comes back. I know she can't accept me living here, but I'll still treat her well." At that moment, she looked so delicate and innocent that anyone who saw her would've felt sorry for her. Sam gently rubbed her hair and nodded. The last bit of doubt he had about Jolie disappeared completely. For a moment, Sam thought their mother might've gone too far with Evelina, but he never once believed Jolie would do the same. The second Jolie stepped into her bedroom, the gentle and graceful expression on her face vanished completely. She immediately pulled out her phone and called her assistant. "Find out whose car picked Evelina up from prison." Her assistant responded right away, and then sent back an update not long after. "It belongs to Connor Payne." "Connor?" Jolie froze in shock, her eyes widening. "That's impossible." Connor was Millie Warren's uncle, and Evelina was the person supposedly responsible for hurting her. There was no reason for him to personally send someone to pick Evelina up from prison. More importantly, Connor was infamous throughout Rufmond's business world. Cold, ruthless, and untouchable. How could a man like him possibly know someone like Evelina? "Are you certain it was Connor's car?" "Yes. Connor purchased six identical Porsche Cayennes. The car that picked Evelina up today was one of them. The driver was also one of Connor's assistants, Jake." The moment she heard that explanation, Jolie suddenly understood everything. "I see now." After ending the call, she let out a mocking laugh. "Evelina, you're even more pathetic than I thought. So you se**ced Connor's assistant and convinced him to use his boss' car to pick you up. What an id**t! You don't even realize how badly you've doomed yourself." She turned toward the full-length mirror and admired her flawless figure wrapped in an expensive designer outfit. A smug smile slowly curved across her lips as she swayed her hips slightly. "If Connor learns about this, he won't spare either Evelina or that assistant. That should be entertaining to watch." Chapter 4 I'm Here To Take Back What's Mine Jake worked quickly. The next morning, when Evelina came downstairs for breakfast, the documents she had asked for were already waiting on the dining table. The files contained information on some of the industry's brightest young talents. Even while she was still in prison, Evelina had been quietly keeping track of them. They had graduated from elite universities, possessed exceptional potential, and were only just beginning their careers. There was also one thing they all shared in common. Every one of them was preparing to join Brooks Group. For years, Brooks Group had been focused on breaking into the new energy industry. They had poured enormous amounts of money into specialized laboratories in an effort to master the core technology. At the same time, they had used their existing patents to build partnerships with several major international energy corporations. Their large-scale recruitment drive was all tied to their promise to overcome the AVN technology bottleneck for a crucial joint project. To these top graduates, Brooks Group represented the best possible opportunity for their future careers. That worked out perfectly for Evelina. It saved her the trouble of hunting them down herself. As she flipped through the files, her finger paused on the final page. "They're reporting to Brooks Group today?" Jake nodded. "Yes. Brooks Group has been recruiting top talent worldwide to solve the AVN issue. They're offering salaries three times higher than the industry average, so almost nobody turns them down." Evelina let out a quiet laugh. She closed the file and continued eating breakfast without the slightest hurry. "Prepare the car. We're going to Brooks Group." At nine in the morning, a meeting at Brooks Group had just ended. The department executives were still gathering their documents when the conference room doors suddenly opened. Evelina walked in wearing black combat boots. She hooked a chair out with the tip of her foot, and then sat down casually. She casually tossed her expensive sunglasses onto the conference table. With only light makeup on, the sickly and worn appearance from her recent release had completely disappeared. In its place was a cold, striking beauty that carried an undeniable sense of authority. She raised her eyes and fixed Sam with a cold stare. "I'm here to take back what's mine." It was only then that Sam finally recognized her. A trace of ridicule and arrogance crept into his expression. "Weren't you acting all high and mighty when you got out of prison? I figured it'd at least take a month before you came back begging the family for help." As he spoke, he pulled out his checkbook and quickly wrote out a check for a hundred thousand dollars. He tore it off and threw it onto the table in front of her. His face remained cold, disappointment and irritation clear in his eyes. "This company isn't a place for someone like you. Take the money and go home. Apologize properly to Mom, and maybe she'll agree to let you come back to the family." Only then did the people in the conference room realize who Evelina was. Whispers immediately spread throughout the room as people started glancing at her and quietly gossiping among themselves. Meanwhile, Jolie, the company's marketing director, had her attention fixed on the necklace around Evelina's neck. It was the newest piece from a luxury jewelry brand, valued at 1.8 million dollars. Even Jolie hadn't been able to secure a preorder for it. She couldn't understand how Evelina could possibly afford something like that after being out of prison for only two days. Jolie had heard that Evelina suffered terribly in prison and was nearly tortured to death more than once. She'd assumed Evelina only got released early because she'd humbled herself and begged for mercy. But the woman standing before her now looked nothing like someone broken by prison. If anything, Evelina seemed completely transformed. Every piece of jewelry on her body screamed wealth and status. Jealousy flashed through Jolie's eyes for a split second before she quickly covered it with a gentle smile. She lightly tugged on Sam's sleeve. "Sam, that's still our sister. This isn't the right way to deal with her. We should teach her how to stand on her own instead of throwing money at her like she's some beggar asking for charity." Then she sighed softly and continued with a troubled expression, "But with a criminal record, no company would willingly hire her. That kind of stain follows a person forever. If she were willing to go back to school and earn a degree, I'd gladly hand over my position as marketing director to her." Someone in the conference room let out a laugh. "Ms. Brooks, you graduated from Central University with top honors. How could someone who spent years in prison possibly compare to you? A fake will never become the real thing just by dressing up." The room quickly filled with agreeing voices. To everyone present, Jolie was like an elegant swan born into privilege, while Evelina was nothing more than something dragged out of the gutter. Jolie was extremely satisfied with the reaction. Her goal was to grind Evelina into the dirt and make sure she never had the chance to rise again. Even so, Jolie still kept up her pitiful act. "Please don't say those things about my sister..." Evelina looked at the barely hidden smugness and contempt in Jolie's eyes and almost found it amusing. Everything Jolie had now, including the Central University degree she flaunted so proudly, originally belonged to Evelina. Evelina slowly stood up. Jolie thought she'd finally broken under the humiliation and was about to run away in disgrace. Instead, Evelina suddenly lifted her hand and sl**ped her across the face with brutal force. The sharp sound stunned the entire conference room into silence. The blow sent Jolie staggering backward until her body slammed hard against the wall. But Evelina didn't stop there. In the next instant, she moved forward like a predator closing in on its prey. She grabbed Jolie by the hair and pinned her firmly against the wall. Leaning close to her ear, she spoke in a freezing wh**per. "If you want everyone here to find out how you really got that degree, I don't mind telling them myself." Panic hit Jolie so hard that the scream lodged in her throat before it could escape. She was completely stunned. How had Evelina become this terrifyingly strong? Beside her, Sam also felt a chill crawl up his spine. "Evelina, have you lost your mind?" Before he could pull her away, Evelina turned and sl**ped him hard across the face. "Didn't you hear what I said when I came in? I'm here to take back what's mine. You people are the ones dragging this out with all your nonsense." One side of Sam's face instantly turned red and burned with pain. His ears buzzed violently. He couldn't understand it at all. Since when had Evelina become this strong? But what shocked him even more was what she said next. "Hand over every piece of the original AVN research data right now. Otherwise, I'll sue Brooks Group." ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &5&

She had always believed she was the nanny's daughter, so she took the fall for the real heiress and went to prison to make amends. Behind bars, she learned the truth: she was not related to the nanny, or to her adoptive parents, at all. They had known the truth and kept it from her. Sixteen years of lies. Four years in prison. Her whole life had been a cruel joke. The day she got out, she came for the elite family that had ruined her. ===== "Evelina, you've been given a second chance. Stay out of trouble and live your life properly from now on." The prison gates slammed shut behind Evelina Brooks, cutting off the guard's stern warning. Evelina stood outside the prison entrance, slowly tightening her grip on the worn backpack in her hand as a cold look settled in her eyes. There was no way she would repeat the same mistake. This time, the people who had committed the real crime and pushed her out as the scapegoat would pay for what they'd done. Not far away, three black Porsche Cayennes were lined up along the roadside. When Evelina looked over, the rear door of the middle SUV slowly opened, though no one stepped out. Evelina walked over without hesitation and stopped beside the open door, but she didn't get in right away. Through the doorway, she finally saw the infamous head of the Payne Group for the first time. The man was rumored to be ruthless and impossible to predict. Connor Payne wore gold-rimmed glasses that softened his appearance and gave him the look of a refined scholar. But that gentle impression couldn't hide the sharpness in his features. His tall frame filled the back seat easily, his broad shoulders and long legs giving off a quiet sense of pressure. Sunlight streamed through the open car door and reflected off the luxury watch on his wrist. The limited-edition piece was one of only three in the world, and the diamonds embedded in it glimmered with a cold light. "You're Evelina Brooks?" Connor's deep voice carried an almost lazy calmness, though the faint mockery beneath it was impossible to miss. "I expected the woman who crashed the stock market overnight to look a little more impressive." Evelina let out a faint scoff. Her face had become so thin and pale that it was nearly unrecognizable, making her eyes appear even larger. She looked directly at him, her gaze flat and emotionless, still as dead water. She didn't waste time exchanging pleasantries. "Fifty million dollars. A car. A house. A driver. Three days from now, I'll hand you a new plan." Connor lightly tapped his fingers against his knee as he studied her eyes. Then the corners of his lips slowly curved upward into a smile filled with interest. He actually liked the look in her eyes. She reminded him of a lone wolf wandering the desert, fierce, dangerous, and ready to strike at any moment. "The lead car is yours from now on. Jake Blake will drive for you. Cayson, transfer Villa No. 8 in Aurora Bay to Miss Brooks immediately. And arrange for a few people to take care of her daily needs." As he spoke, Connor pulled out a black card and held it toward her. His fingers were pale and slender, almost too refined, carrying the fragile beauty of someone who looked as though he might break with a touch. But Evelina had once watched a video of him using those same elegant hands to crush a traitor's arm while wearing a mesmerizing smile the entire time. "This card has a three-hundred-million-dollar credit limit." Even though Evelina already knew Connor was outrageously generous when it suited him, she was still caught off guard by the scale of it. The cheapest villa in Aurora Bay cost tens of millions. Now he was also handing her a black card worth three hundred million without hesitation. Wasn't he worried she might simply take everything and disappear? Cayson Scott, seated in the front passenger seat, was so shocked his eyes nearly popped out. Since when had Connor become this easygoing? And for a woman who had just gotten out of prison, no less. If any of the women who once chased after Connor had dared make demands-even the smallest one like holding the door for them, they probably would've disappeared before sunrise. Evelina's eyes flickered slightly before she calmly accepted the black card. Under the sunlight, her pale lips slowly curved into a cold, unsettling smile. "Within one month, my new plan will earn you at least a billion dollars in profit. Your fifty million won't just pay off. It'll be the best investment you've ever made. After that, we can discuss a long-term partnership." Her voice remained calm and steady, without arrogance or false modesty. Only a blazing excitement burned beneath it, sharp enough to sound almost dangerous. Cayson was already beginning to suspect that Evelina didn't have any real ability at all and was simply trying to swindle them out of a fortune before disappearing. Connor, however, only raised an interested eyebrow. Leaning back against the seat with effortless composure, he replied calmly, "Alright." He didn't ask a single additional question. It was as though Evelina had casually tossed out a live bomb, while to Connor, it was no more threatening than a small firecracker during the holidays. That quiet "Alright" from him somehow felt even more unsettling to Cayson than Evelina's promise to earn him a billion dollars in just one month. "Then I'll wait for your good news, Miss Brooks." As soon as he finished speaking, the door slowly closed. The Cayenne made a smooth U-turn, sweeping past the hem of Evelina's faded denim skirt before driving away. Evelina remained standing in place, the sharp edge of the black card pressing into her palm. The back of her hand was covered in crossing scars that ruined the smooth skin that had once been delicate. The sight was shocking to look at. At that moment, a man stepped out of the car that had remained behind and respectfully opened the rear door for her. Evelina had just lifted her foot to get into the car when the sharp screech of brakes suddenly echoed from nearby. A Rolls-Royce sped in from another road and came to an abrupt stop behind her. The door swung open, and Sam Brooks, Evelina's brother, stepped out in a custom-tailored light gray suit. "Eve, I've come to take you home." Chapter 2 It Was All A Lie Evelina tightened her grip, and the sharp edge of the black card dug painfully into her palm. She slowly turned around. The wind swept her hair aside, exposing her pale face as her eyes met Sam's directly. Sam froze for a moment. Her appearance had changed too much. So had the air around her. A trace of discomfort flashed through his eyes. "Eve, everyone makes mistakes. What matters is learning from them. You've suffered enough these past four years, but Mom, Dad, and I have already forgiven you. You're still part of the Brooks family. That home will always have a place for you." Evelina nearly laughed at the absurdity of it. "You've forgiven me? Still part of the Brooks family? None of you visited me even once in those four years. So why pretend to be a caring family now?" "Evelina!" Sam's expression darkened instantly. "Watch your tone when you speak to me. Is this how we taught you to behave? Where are your manners? What exactly happened to you?" What happened to her? Evelina's eyes slowly reddened, but she stubbornly forced the tears back. A faint pink scar stretched across her otherwise pale neck. Under the sunlight, it looked rough and ugly. She got that scar during her first year in prison. Someone had attacked her in the middle of the night with a sharpened toothbrush. If the wound had gone even a little deeper, she would've died then and there. Back then, she hadn't understood why everyone hated her so much. She thought she deserved it for taking over sixteen years of Jolie Brooks' life and stealing the identity of the Brooks family's real daughter. The guilt had nearly crushed her. She even believed she should pay for her biological mother's crime. According to the story everyone told her, the Brooks family's nanny had secretly switched the two babies at birth. Then, when she was already being tortured to the point of breaking, Connor sent her the truth. The evidence proved she had absolutely no bl**d relation to that nanny that she believed to be her biological mother. She had never been switched at birth. It was all a lie fabricated by Jolie to reclaim her place in the Brooks family. And the most ridiculous part was that the Brooks family had known the truth from the very beginning. Yet because of those lies, Evelina had been labeled the fake heiress and forced to endure endless hatred and humiliation from every direction. The Brooks family forced Evelina to hand every one of her achievements over to Jolie. In the end, they even pushed her into prison to take the blame for Jolie's crimes. Inside that prison, she suffered through torment that nearly ki**ed her. The moment Evelina learned the truth, something inside her completely shattered. She stopped enduring her inmates' abuse in silence. One by one, she retaliated against everyone who had hurt her with ruthless, merciless force. Only then did she finally realize where all the cruelty she endured in prison had really come from. Jolie wanted her dead. And the cruelest part was that Evelina had gone to prison for Jolie in the first place. Sam frowned deeply at the coldness in her expression. "When you get home, you should properly thank Jolie. You only got released early because she begged the Warren family on your behalf. And for the past four years, she's been taking care of Millie, after you put her in a coma. That's the only reason the Warren family finally let this matter go. You owe Jolie more than ever now." Evelina let out a cold, furious laugh. "Sam, you're unbelievably st**id. After four years, you still don't know who really hurt Millie? Jolie kept sending people after me in prison because she wanted me dead, so the truth stays buried. But forget that for now. Why don't you investigate what happened to every single one of those people afterward? And since you're seeing Jolie soon, tell her to wait for me. I'm going to settle everything." After saying that, she walked straight toward the Porsche Cayenne Connor had left for her and got inside. The driver respectfully closed the car door behind her. Before getting back into the driver's seat, he shot Sam a cold glance. The engine roared to life. With a sharp turn, the SUV sped away. Dust from the tires swept into the air, partially blurring Sam's vision. He stood there watching the luxury Cayenne disappear into the distance, disbelief written all over his face. Whose car was that? And what exactly did Evelina mean by all those accusations? Sam refused to believe a single word Evelina had said. Jolie was far too kindhearted. There was no way she would've sent people to hurt Evelina. He drew in a slow breath. "It's already been four years. I honestly thought prison would've changed her for the better. But she's still the same vicious person she used to be. Now she's even trying to frame Jolie. She's completely beyond saving." Sam turned and walked back toward his car. The sharp sound of his custom leather shoes echoed against the pavement as a cold fury settled over him. "She already harmed Millie once. I won't let her hurt Jolie too. And if she still refuses to repent, I'll personally send her back to prison." Chapter 3 He Would Give Her Everything She Wanted At Villa No. 8 in the exclusive Aurora Bay. Only after Evelina stepped inside did she realize the villa sat in the most desirable spot in the entire district. It was also the most expensive property there, worth more than twenty million dollars. She stood beneath the bright lights of the wide foyer, her gaze drifting across the luxurious interior. A cold smile touched her cracked lips. She believed every bit of it belonged to her. Back in prison, the moment she learned the truth, she'd completely fallen apart. The guards had thrown her into solitary confinement, the kind reserved for the most dangerous inmates, and kept her there for an entire month. When she was finally released from solitary, one of Connor's men came to see her and offered her two options. The first was to spend the rest of her life rotting away in prison like ga**age. The second was to become Connor's loyal dog. If she obeyed him, he'd give her everything she wanted, including the opportunity to take revenge. She chose the second. But after gaining access to the resources Connor provided, she manipulated the market overnight and nearly destroyed the new stock his company had just released. So when Connor's man visited her again, she already had bargaining power. She told him plainly that she wouldn't be anyone's dog or puppet. If they were going to work together, then it would be as equals. Her early release from prison came after she mastered everything Connor needed her to learn. Besides, the plan she and Connor had built together was already about to begin, and they couldn't afford any delays. So everything she owned now was simply part of their agreement. The bathroom alone was ten times bigger than the cramped four-person prison cell she used to share. Evelina soaked herself in the hot bath and savored the warmth. When she stepped out of the bathroom wearing a robe, she heard a man's voice from downstairs. It belonged to Jake, her driver and assistant. "Miss Brooks, Mr. Payne sent some things over." She walked to the railing on the second floor and looked down. A line of bodyguards dressed in black stood inside the hall, each carrying pieces from the latest designer collections, including jewelry and luxury clothing. Nearby, rows of shoes had already been arranged neatly in place. A trace of surprise flickered through her eyes. She hadn't expected a man as reckless and unpredictable as Connor to be this attentive. "Put everything in the dressing room." She lifted a hand casually and accepted the gifts without hesitation. Leaning against the second-floor railing, she watched the staff move busily around the villa for her sake. For the first time, the feeling truly settled in. She had escaped that living h**l and returned to a normal life. As for the people who had hurt her, deceived her, and betrayed her, none of them would get away with it. Every member of the Brooks family would pay the price, one by one. "Jake, I need you to investigate a few people for me." … Meanwhile, Sam returned to the Brooks family estate by himself. Jolie had already prepared herself to put on a show, but the moment she noticed Evelina wasn't with him, her expression shifted slightly. She quickly forced out a few tears before walking toward him with a hurt expression. "Sam, did Evelina refuse to come home with you? Is she still angry at me? Does she really think I stole her place? But this is my home too." Seeing Jolie's gentle and fragile appearance only made Sam more certain that Evelina's earlier accusations had been cruel lies. He pulled Jolie into his arms, feeling sorry for her, and spoke softly to comfort her. "Evelina's completely changed. She argued with me, then got into some stranger's car and drove off." Their mother, Eliza Brooks, slammed her coffee cup onto the table in anger. "She's a convicted criminal! The Brooks family is already showing her mercy by letting her come back, yet she still has the nerve to throw a fit?" Jolie immediately looked anxious. "Do you know whose car it was? Where did she go? I need to find her and apologize. I have to convince her to come home." Sam quickly stopped her and guided her back onto the sofa. "Don't go looking for her. She won't last long outside by herself. Once she realizes that, she'll come back on her own." Eliza interjected coldly, "Jolie, you don't owe Evelina anything. If anyone should suffer, it's her. She hasn't paid for what she's done yet, so don't pity her. I'll send people to bring her back myself. This is far from over, and she'll stay here and continue reflecting on her mistakes." Realizing she wouldn't get any more useful information from them, Jolie quickly wiped away her tears. Then she pretended to sway weakly from dizziness. "Mom, Sam, I suddenly don't feel well. I think I should go upstairs and rest for a while." The moment Eliza heard that, both anger and pity surged through her. "This is all Evelina's fault! If it weren't for her, Jolie would've never suffered so much. She wouldn't have had such a difficult childhood, and her health wouldn't be this fragile. We've taken such good care of her, yet she still hasn't fully recovered. Just wait until I find Evelina. I'll make sure she learns her lesson!" She then turned to Jolie and added softly, "Sweetheart, go upstairs and rest. I'll ask the kitchen to prepare some nourishing soup for you later." Jolie nodded obediently. Then she deliberately wrapped her hand around Sam's arm. "Sam, don't be too hard on Evelina when she comes back. I know she can't accept me living here, but I'll still treat her well." At that moment, she looked so delicate and innocent that anyone who saw her would've felt sorry for her. Sam gently rubbed her hair and nodded. The last bit of doubt he had about Jolie disappeared completely. For a moment, Sam thought their mother might've gone too far with Evelina, but he never once believed Jolie would do the same. The second Jolie stepped into her bedroom, the gentle and graceful expression on her face vanished completely. She immediately pulled out her phone and called her assistant. "Find out whose car picked Evelina up from prison." Her assistant responded right away, and then sent back an update not long after. "It belongs to Connor Payne." "Connor?" Jolie froze in shock, her eyes widening. "That's impossible." Connor was Millie Warren's uncle, and Evelina was the person supposedly responsible for hurting her. There was no reason for him to personally send someone to pick Evelina up from prison. More importantly, Connor was infamous throughout Rufmond's business world. Cold, ruthless, and untouchable. How could a man like him possibly know someone like Evelina? "Are you certain it was Connor's car?" "Yes. Connor purchased six identical Porsche Cayennes. The car that picked Evelina up today was one of them. The driver was also one of Connor's assistants, Jake." The moment she heard that explanation, Jolie suddenly understood everything. "I see now." After ending the call, she let out a mocking laugh. "Evelina, you're even more pathetic than I thought. So you se**ced Connor's assistant and convinced him to use his boss' car to pick you up. What an id**t! You don't even realize how badly you've doomed yourself." She turned toward the full-length mirror and admired her flawless figure wrapped in an expensive designer outfit. A smug smile slowly curved across her lips as she swayed her hips slightly. "If Connor learns about this, he won't spare either Evelina or that assistant. That should be entertaining to watch." Chapter 4 I'm Here To Take Back What's Mine Jake worked quickly. The next morning, when Evelina came downstairs for breakfast, the documents she had asked for were already waiting on the dining table. The files contained information on some of the industry's brightest young talents. Even while she was still in prison, Evelina had been quietly keeping track of them. They had graduated from elite universities, possessed exceptional potential, and were only just beginning their careers. There was also one thing they all shared in common. Every one of them was preparing to join Brooks Group. For years, Brooks Group had been focused on breaking into the new energy industry. They had poured enormous amounts of money into specialized laboratories in an effort to master the core technology. At the same time, they had used their existing patents to build partnerships with several major international energy corporations. Their large-scale recruitment drive was all tied to their promise to overcome the AVN technology bottleneck for a crucial joint project. To these top graduates, Brooks Group represented the best possible opportunity for their future careers. That worked out perfectly for Evelina. It saved her the trouble of hunting them down herself. As she flipped through the files, her finger paused on the final page. "They're reporting to Brooks Group today?" Jake nodded. "Yes. Brooks Group has been recruiting top talent worldwide to solve the AVN issue. They're offering salaries three times higher than the industry average, so almost nobody turns them down." Evelina let out a quiet laugh. She closed the file and continued eating breakfast without the slightest hurry. "Prepare the car. We're going to Brooks Group." At nine in the morning, a meeting at Brooks Group had just ended. The department executives were still gathering their documents when the conference room doors suddenly opened. Evelina walked in wearing black combat boots. She hooked a chair out with the tip of her foot, and then sat down casually. She casually tossed her expensive sunglasses onto the conference table. With only light makeup on, the sickly and worn appearance from her recent release had completely disappeared. In its place was a cold, striking beauty that carried an undeniable sense of authority. She raised her eyes and fixed Sam with a cold stare. "I'm here to take back what's mine." It was only then that Sam finally recognized her. A trace of ridicule and arrogance crept into his expression. "Weren't you acting all high and mighty when you got out of prison? I figured it'd at least take a month before you came back begging the family for help." As he spoke, he pulled out his checkbook and quickly wrote out a check for a hundred thousand dollars. He tore it off and threw it onto the table in front of her. His face remained cold, disappointment and irritation clear in his eyes. "This company isn't a place for someone like you. Take the money and go home. Apologize properly to Mom, and maybe she'll agree to let you come back to the family." Only then did the people in the conference room realize who Evelina was. Whispers immediately spread throughout the room as people started glancing at her and quietly gossiping among themselves. Meanwhile, Jolie, the company's marketing director, had her attention fixed on the necklace around Evelina's neck. It was the newest piece from a luxury jewelry brand, valued at 1.8 million dollars. Even Jolie hadn't been able to secure a preorder for it. She couldn't understand how Evelina could possibly afford something like that after being out of prison for only two days. Jolie had heard that Evelina suffered terribly in prison and was nearly tortured to death more than once. She'd assumed Evelina only got released early because she'd humbled herself and begged for mercy. But the woman standing before her now looked nothing like someone broken by prison. If anything, Evelina seemed completely transformed. Every piece of jewelry on her body screamed wealth and status. Jealousy flashed through Jolie's eyes for a split second before she quickly covered it with a gentle smile. She lightly tugged on Sam's sleeve. "Sam, that's still our sister. This isn't the right way to deal with her. We should teach her how to stand on her own instead of throwing money at her like she's some beggar asking for charity." Then she sighed softly and continued with a troubled expression, "But with a criminal record, no company would willingly hire her. That kind of stain follows a person forever. If she were willing to go back to school and earn a degree, I'd gladly hand over my position as marketing director to her." Someone in the conference room let out a laugh. "Ms. Brooks, you graduated from Central University with top honors. How could someone who spent years in prison possibly compare to you? A fake will never become the real thing just by dressing up." The room quickly filled with agreeing voices. To everyone present, Jolie was like an elegant swan born into privilege, while Evelina was nothing more than something dragged out of the gutter. Jolie was extremely satisfied with the reaction. Her goal was to grind Evelina into the dirt and make sure she never had the chance to rise again. Even so, Jolie still kept up her pitiful act. "Please don't say those things about my sister..." Evelina looked at the barely hidden smugness and contempt in Jolie's eyes and almost found it amusing. Everything Jolie had now, including the Central University degree she flaunted so proudly, originally belonged to Evelina. Evelina slowly stood up. Jolie thought she'd finally broken under the humiliation and was about to run away in disgrace. Instead, Evelina suddenly lifted her hand and sl**ped her across the face with brutal force. The sharp sound stunned the entire conference room into silence. The blow sent Jolie staggering backward until her body slammed hard against the wall. But Evelina didn't stop there. In the next instant, she moved forward like a predator closing in on its prey. She grabbed Jolie by the hair and pinned her firmly against the wall. Leaning close to her ear, she spoke in a freezing wh**per. "If you want everyone here to find out how you really got that degree, I don't mind telling them myself." Panic hit Jolie so hard that the scream lodged in her throat before it could escape. She was completely stunned. How had Evelina become this terrifyingly strong? Beside her, Sam also felt a chill crawl up his spine. "Evelina, have you lost your mind?" Before he could pull her away, Evelina turned and sl**ped him hard across the face. "Didn't you hear what I said when I came in? I'm here to take back what's mine. You people are the ones dragging this out with all your nonsense." One side of Sam's face instantly turned red and burned with pain. His ears buzzed violently. He couldn't understand it at all. Since when had Evelina become this strong? But what shocked him even more was what she said next. "Hand over every piece of the original AVN research data right now. Otherwise, I'll sue Brooks Group." ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &5&

As a substitute, she wanted to leave but was rejected. She thought her husband might start to have feelings for her, but as it turned out, he simply wanted to wait for his first love to return before getting rid of her. Faced with their intimacy, she taught the sc**bag and his mistress a good lesson and left without hesitation, focusing on her career. However, her unfaithful ex-husband actually began to pester her... ===== "We'll divorce on Monday. Aside from the compensation in the agreement, you may request anything else you need." Kristian Shaw, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, exuded an air of cold detachment. His voice firm and emotionless. His piercing gaze settled on the silent woman opposite him, his eyes inscrutable. "Why so sudden?" Freya Briggs asked, her voice quieter than usual. Kristian's answer was blunt. "Ashley is back." Freya knew exactly who Ashley was. After a brief pause, she replied, "Okay." Kristian hesitated, caught off guard by her immediate acceptance. Freya opened the divorce papers, her thoughts drifting to the past. Two years ago, they had met at a n**htclub. She had been weighed down by worries; he had been nursing a broken heart. A few drinks later, they found solace in each other's company, talking late into the night. There had been no impulsive o*e-n**ht st*nd--just a quiet parting afterward. Three days later, he had returned with his assistant to propose marriage. And she had agreed. After getting married, he had treated her well--tending to her needs, drying her hair with gentle hands, and solving her problems before she even voiced them. Their relationship had been perfect--until six months ago, when a single phone call changed everything. Overnight, he grew distant, his warmth replaced by icy indifference. That was when she learned the truth: Kristian had married her because she bore a faint resemblance to his lost love, Ashley Bradley. The memory made Freya press her lips together before she asked lightly, "You said I could ask for compensation, right?" "Yes," Kristian replied flatly. "Anything I want?" She lifted her gaze to him, her delicate face devoid of its usual brightness. For a fleeting moment, guilt flickered in his ch*st. "Yes." He had already resolved to grant her reasonable demands. After all, she had been good to him all the time. Freya's voice was steady. "Then I want the most expensive car in your garage." "Fine," Kristian agreed. "A villa in the suburbs," she added. "Done," he said. Freya smiled. "And a share of the money you've earned in the last two years." For the first time, Kristian's composure cracked. His eyes narrowed slightly, as if questioning whether he'd heard correctly. "What did you say?" Freya, unfazed, repeated her demand. "Our earnings during the marriage count as marital property, don't they? Based on my calculations--excluding investments--your salary and dividends over the last two years amount to several billion. I don't want much--just 40%." A heavy silence settled between them. Then, she added, as if casually mentioning the weather, "Of course, you're welcome to take 40% of my income too." Kristian's patience finally snapped. "Freya!" His voice carried an edge of disbelief. Had he really felt guilty earlier? How had he never noticed her greed? Freya met his gaze evenly. "Is that not acceptable?" Absolutely not. Kristian dismissed the idea instantly. "Then forget it." Freya set down her pen. "Next time I see your family, I'll bring up your emotional infidelity. I'm sure they'll take my side." Kristian's expression darkened, his stare turning glacial. He hadn't anticipated this side of her--realizing now that her past docility had been an act. "Do you really want to negotiate with me like this?" he demanded. "Yes." Freya held his gaze without flinching. She knew he despised threats--but she despised infidelity more. "Fine." Kristian's eyes turned stormy, his voice glacial. "You'll get what you want. But if the divorce hits complications, you'll regret it." Freya leaned back in her chair, her tone razor-sharp. "Kristian Shaw, is that a threat?" This version of her was foreign to Kristian. For two years, she'd been the picture of compliance--gentle, accommodating, never defiant. Now, she met his anger with unshakable calm. "No." Already calculating countermeasures, he bit out, "You'll have the assets. We divorce on Monday." Freya's lashes lowered briefly before she added, "One more condition." "Speak." His patience frayed. "Take me shopping tomorrow." She ignored the frost radiating from him. "Afterward, we'll tell your family together that I ended things." "Deal," Kristian conceded. With that, he strode toward the door, unable to stomach another second in her presence. Earlier, he'd even considered granting her a grace period to process the divorce. How laughable. She couldn't wait to carve up his fortune and be rid of him. Had Freya been able to read his thoughts, she might have laughed and said, "That little money? Do you really think I care?" Kristian reached the door and halted. Without turning around, he said, "I won't be back tonight. I'll pick you up at nine tomorrow morning. Make a list of the stores you want to visit." Freya's voice followed him, calm but laced with something sharp. "Are you going to see Ashley Bradley?" Kristian's jaw tightened. "That's none of your business." Freya let out a quiet breath, as if she had already expected that answer. "I don't tolerate cheating," she said plainly. "So before the divorce is finalized, you'd better not end up in b*d with her." Kristian whirled back, looming over her. Freya didn't blink. "What? Can't endure two more days?" "I understand your bitterness," he said, eerily composed, "but lashing out won't help. This is a divorce, not war." Freya blinked at him. For a moment, she was at a loss for words. This man was truly shameless. Kristian didn't wait for a response. "Good night." And with that, he turned and left. The door clicked shut behind him. Freya's gaze drifted down to the divorce papers still lying on the table. She stood there for a long time, unmoving. To say she felt nothing would have been a lie. She wasn't made of stone. The moment she discovered she was nothing more than a stand-in, the hurt had settled deep in her bones. Kristian had been her first love. In twenty-four years, no one else had breached her defenses. Before the betrayal, he'd been perfection itself--attentive, steady, silencing every doubt with his quiet devotion. So when she learned of Ashley, she'd offered to leave. To free him. But he'd refused. Chapter 2 Kristian Was Pure S**mbag The reason behind Kristian's refusal was simple. Before Ashley returned, he needed someone to manage his elders at home--and Freya, adored by his parents and grandpa, was the obvious choice. But sometimes, Freya couldn't help but wonder--did he really think she was a f*ol? Otherwise, why would he assume she'd play along in hiding his a**air? Now, with his sudden demand for divorce, frustration simmered inside her. Even after six months of steeling herself, a stubborn flicker of emotion remained. She let out a slow breath, crossed to the sofa, and grabbed her phone. She tapped the contact labeled "Fred"--untouched for two years--and typed, "Check if Shaw Group's facing any issues. And find out if Kristian's terminally ill." Fred's replies exploded onto the screen instantly. "Holy--Freya?!" "Never thought I'd hear from you again!" "Two years, Freya. TWO." "Where've you been?!" She didn't bother explaining. Mood sour, she fired back a single word, "Check." Fred caved. "On it!" She tossed the phone aside and waited. If Kristian was divorcing her to spare her some tragedy, she'd forgive him--maybe even help. But if he was just an unfaithful j**k? She'd drop him without a second thought. Thirty minutes later, her phone buzzed with Fred's verdict. "Zero troubles. No illness, no crisis. Why the h*ll are you asking? Kristian's loaded, hot, and sharp--you two are a match. Don't you like pretty boys? Give it a shot!" She ignored the jab and shot back, "You are so blind." Then she silenced her phone. No external factors meant only one thing--Kristian was pure s*um. Fred stared at his screen, baffled. Did Freya wake up in a mood today? Freya's gaze landed on the divorce papers. After a pause, she snatched a pen, scrawled her name, and shoved them into a drawer. Then she headed for the shower. When she emerged, her phone was a disaster--dozens of unread messages and 32 missed calls. No guessing needed. Frederick Price--aka Fred--had clearly blabbed about her resurrection to the entire world. Towel draped over her damp hair, she reached for her phone--only for it to ring again. The caller ID flashed; it was her father. Her ch*st tightened. Two years of silence, and now he called? She'd left Alerith City due to a situation involving her mother, and neither had she reached out to her father nor had he contacted her--until now. After a pause, she answered coolly. "Hello." Silence. Freya, never one for patience, was about to hang up when Hugh Briggs' raspy voice cut through. "Mina." That name clawed at buried memories. "What do you want?" she asked flatly. Hugh hesitated, guilt threading his words. "Frederick told me you reached out. Said you were digging into Kristian. Need help?" "No." Freya had no interest in his involvement. A beat passed before Hugh ventured, "What's your relationship with him?" "A couple." She let the word hang. "About to divorce." Hugh's breath hitched. She was married? "You--" he started. "If that's all, I'm done." Freya didn't want to waste any more breath on him. "Wait!" he rushed. She held her tongue. The line crackled with tension. Finally, he muttered, "When are you coming back? That woman's gone." Then, hastily, he added, "Your mom's belongings are untouched." Her fingers tightened around the phone. For a flicker, emotion crossed her face--then vanished. "Noted." She hung up before he could protest. Hugh stared at the dead line, frustration curdling in his ch*st. He hadn't even asked about her marriage. Freya didn't spare him another thought. She flicked her phone to airplane mode, towel-dried her hair, and collapsed into b*d. The night passed without dreams. By eight the next morning, she was up--dressed and breakfasted. Today, she'd taken care with her makeup. Her skin glowed; her lips, naturally full, needed no enhancement. But her eyes--sharp, luminous--were the real weapon. Her smile was bright, bringing a warmth that could instantly lift anyone's spirits. When Kristian arrived, she was already waiting on the sofa. Her shoulder-length hair was pinned back, bangs swept up under a black beret. At the sight of him, she rose gracefully, reaching for a coat and draping it over her shoulder. "Let's go." She grabbed her purse, her tone composed and unbothered. Kristian didn't move. His tailored suit emphasized his height as he said, "Not today." Freya stilled. "I have other commitments." His voice was indifferent. His gaze lingered--too long--on her face. "Tomorrow." "Kristian Shaw." Her tone was a warning. He disliked it instantly. "I put on makeup today," she said, her voice deceptively calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. "If you want our divorce to go smoothly on Monday, push aside whatever plans you have. I don't deal with people who break their promises." Kristian's eyes narrowed. After a silent calculation, he stepped out to make a call. Fragments floated back--Ashley... hospital... follow-up. Freya's grip on her purse turned white-knuckled. Inside, she seethed. Even now, Ashley occupied his thoughts completely. Kristian missed Freya's fury. All he saw was how she shone today--vibrant, untamed. Nothing like the subdued woman he knew. After hanging up, he inquired where she wanted to shop. Freya mentioned the largest luxury mall in town. This wasn't shopping. This was a spree. By 10 AM, the four bodyguards trailed behind her like pack mules--arms stacked with watches, jewels, designer bags. Kristian's phone chimed nonstop with alerts. As Freya strode into yet another jewelry boutique, his jaw hardened. This wasn't retail therapy; she was intentionally trying to irritate him. Chapter 3 Why Hurt Ashley? Gerard Todd, Kristian's ever-dutiful assistant, hesitated for a moment before asking, "Sir, should I go ahead and book a restaurant?" Kristian massaged his temples, irritation flashing across his face. "No need." He knew Freya was venting her frustration. If splurging eased her temper, so be it--he'd let her spend freely. The moment the words left his mouth, his phone vibrated. Another alert flashed--over thirty million had just vanished from his account. Gerard averted his eyes, while the four bodyguards stood stiffly, arms laden with shopping bags like silent, overburdened mules. Freya strode out of the jewelry boutique and casually handed her latest purchase to Gerard, whose hands were conspicuously empty. Just as she turned to continue her spree, Kristian's phone rang. His posture shifted instantly. The tension in his shoulders eased, his frown softening as he glanced at the caller ID. Long fingers cradled the phone, his voice uncharacteristically tender as he answered. "Hello, Ashley." Gerard and the bodyguards exchanged startled glances. Had their boss forgotten Freya was standing right there? "Ashley was in a car accident on her way to a hospital follow-up. She's unconscious--still in surgery," the voice on the line blurted, frantic. "Please come. She kept calling your name before they took her in." "Send the address. I'm on my way." Kristian's ch*st constricted, the words sharp with urgency. He ended the call, his gaze flickering to Freya. An explanation hovered on his lips, but he swallowed it. Instead, he turned to Gerard and the bodyguards. "Stay with her. Buy whatever she wants. If it doesn't fit in the car, have it delivered by this afternoon." "Yes, sir," the five men chorused. Without another word, Kristian strode off, leaving Freya and the others in his wake. An uncomfortable silence settled over the group. Gerard adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, forcing a polished smile. "Mrs. Shaw, don't worry. Mr. Shaw will return once he handles matters." "What a loyal employee," Freya murmured, her tone laced with something unreadable. Gerard blinked, thrown by her response. Freya studied the mall's glittering chandeliers, her voice deliberate. "Being his assistant is one thing. But cleaning up his messes? Tell me, Gerard--have you ever seen a man ditch his wife mid-date to run to his mi**ress?" The bodyguards stiffened; Gerard's smile froze. For a heartbeat, all five men stared at her with something dangerously close to pity. This might be the price of marrying into wealth--knowing her husband had left her for another woman while she was expected to swallow the insult. "Save the sympathy." Freya scoffed, amused by their expressions. She gestured to the bags weighing them down. "A single one of those could cover your salary for a year. Maybe ten." The blow landed perfectly. She pressed, "Well, anything you'd like?" Five pairs of eyes widened in unison. Freya's mind worked in ways they couldn't follow. "Since he's off playing hero for his darling, let's put his money to better use." She twirled the black card between her fingers, her voice quieter now. The sting surprised her. She hadn't realized Kristian's departure would still claw at her. Right now, all she wanted was to drain his account dry. Gerard and the bodyguards gaped. Delighted by their shock, Freya resumed shopping, the card clutched like a weapon. She assumed Kristian would linger at the hospital all day. But as she sat down to eat, he appeared like a storm, his presence slicing through the restaurant's warmth. Before anyone could react, he seized Freya's wrist and hauled her toward the parking area, his grip ironclad. Her back slammed against the car door, pain radiating through her. She winced. What the hell was his problem? His accusation came like a whip crack, "Why hurt Ashley?" Kristian trembled with suppressed rage. "You hired that hit-and-run driver, didn't you? I gave you everything you wanted, the house, the car, the money. What more do you want? Why did you still hurt her?" He looked like vengeance personified, his eyes glacial. "When did I--" Freya's confusion was genuine. "Still lying?" His voice could've frosted glass. "You planned this. Picked today so I'd be distracted while your hired man ran her down. You know I'd die before letting her suffer." His voice was Arctic frost, the kind that seeped into bones and made spines stiffen. Freya's initial fury dissolved into something colder, sharper. His absurd accusation had an ironic effect--it drained her rage, leaving only icy clarity. She met his gaze, lips curling in derision. "How poetic. Turning betrayal into some grand romance." "Freya Briggs!" Kristian's control frayed, his shout raw with warning. "You're delusional." She didn't flinch, status be damned. "Think. Why would I trash my fresh start--my freedom--over someone like her?" "You know exactly why." His voice dropped lower, a bl**e pressed to her throat. A realization flickered. "Ah. You think I'm still obsessed with you?" Kristian said nothing, but his clenched jaw and the fire in his eyes were answer enough. "Why should I still want you?" Freya laughed, the sound brittle. "After being treated as a stand-in? After your infidelity? After watching you fawn over another woman?" The words landed like sl*ps. Kristian stiffened. "I didn't cheat," he ground out. "You handed her your heart while wearing my ring." Her smile was lethal. "That's cheating." "Enough deflection," he snapped. "You're the one hallucinating conspiracies!" Silence. Kristian studied her, as if peeling back layers for the first time. The weight of his scrutiny was suffocating. Freya refused to wilt. "So she claimed I hired a man to k*ll her, and you just... believed her?" "Yes." His anger faltered under her unwavering stare, but the frost remained. "Ashley didn't lie. And she has proof." Freya's brows arched. Her fingers dug into her bag strap, knuckles whitening. "Perfect. Let's go to the hospital. Right now." Kristian blinked. Her immediate agreement threw him. Guilty people didn't invite confrontation. Doubt slithered in. Was the evidence fabricated? "Move." Her command shattered his thoughts. He released her wrist, disconcerted by her detachment. Something ugly twisted in his ch*st--annoyance? Guilt? Before he could name it, he yanked out his keys and wrenched the car door open. Chapter 4 Are You Threatening Me? Gerard stepped forward swiftly to take the keys, assuming the role of driver without hesitation. Freya yanked the passenger door open and slid inside, her gaze fixed straight ahead--ignoring Kristian entirely. A knot of dread tightened in Gerard's ch*st. What if Freya said something outrageous? The thought made his fingers clench around the wheel. After a weighted pause, he ventured, "Mrs. Shaw, you--" "Drive." Her reply was a bl**e, sharp and final. Gerard flicked a glance at the rearview mirror. Kristian's expression gave nothing away. Swallowing hard, he pulled out of the parking area. Silence smothered the car like a thick fog. The tension was unbearable. Gerard's shoulders tensed, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white. Neither Kristian nor Freya spoke. Both radiated a frost so deep it could've cracked the windows. Gerard knew Kristian's moods well--but Freya? She'd been almost cheerful earlier. What the hell happened? He bit back a sigh. Questions wouldn't help now. In the back seat, Kristian's gaze drifted unbidden to Freya's profile. Something unfamiliar twisted in his ch*st--an emotion he refused to name. Thirty minutes later, the car halted at the hospital entrance. Kristian seized Freya's wrist, dragging her toward the VIP ward. His grip was iron, unyielding. She winced, her voice dripping with mockery. "At this rate, I won't be the one charged--you'll be arrested for assault first." He dropped her arm like it burned him. Angry red marks circled her skin. Freya shot him a look so scathing it could've melted steel. Guilt flickered in Kristian's ch*st--brief, unwelcome. It vanished the moment Ashley's bruised face flashed in his mind. "Follow me," he muttered, turning on his heel. He didn't wait to see if Freya obeyed. The door swung open. Ashley lay propped up in b*d, her face lighting up at the sight of Kristian. "Kristian," she breathed, voice sweet with devotion. He was at her side in an instant, fingers brushing hers in silent reassurance. Freya strode in, took one look at them, and smirked. "Should I leave? Give you two some privacy?" "Freya. Enough." Kristian's voice was winter itself. He didn't look at Freya, his hand still resting on Ashley's back. "You're here to apologize." Freya closed the distance to the b*d, studying Ashley properly for the first time--soft features, delicate frame, eyes wide with practiced innocence. Ah. Now she understood. This was the woman Kristian loved. "Miss Bradley." Freya laced her fingers together. "My darling tells me you've accused me of hiring your attacker--with evidence." She stressed the word, gaze locked on Kristian. "Care to share?" "Kristian..." Ashley's fingers tightened around his, her lower lip trembling... ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &5&

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