MasukCHAPTER 69 — Brandon’s POVAshes Beneath the SurfaceI haven’t slept. Not really. My body suspends in brief shutdowns, but my mind remains restless. Every time I close my eyes, I see her walking away—her back disappearing through the door, her voice echoing as she asks if she was a burden. And then, there’s only silence. That’s the worst part—not what Miya or Freya said, but what I didn’t say. I push my wheelchair back toward the desk, though I’ve been here all night. The screens flicker before me—maps, timestamps, camera feeds, financial reports. My team hasn’t stopped; neither have I. Every street camera within a hundred miles has been pulled, every transport company audited, every private driver questioned, every motel, inn, and guesthouse cross-checked with her departure time. Nothing solid—just shadows. "She left in a cab,” I remind myself, softly. I’ve watched the footage from our gate at least twenty times—the way she clutches her bag, the way she never looks back.
CHAPTER 68 — Freya’s POVNowhere Feels SafeRunning away seemed brave at first, until I woke up alone in a strange room. For a few seconds, I lay still, staring at the ceiling, trying to remember where I was—and why the air felt so unfamiliar, as if I was breathing someone else’s oxygen. The fan above me creaked wearily, its uneven rhythm dull and tired. It didn’t sound like home; it didn’t sound like anything I knew.And then, suddenly, it hit me.Not softly.Not gently.But all at once.I had left.My chest clenched painfully, and the memory crashed into me in one overwhelming wave—Miya’s voice, Brandon’s silence, my suitcase, my tears, the door closing behind me.Swallowing hard, I pushed myself up on my elbows, the thin motel blanket slipping down to my waist. The room looked exactly like it had when I first arrived—small, Pale walls, cheap curtains, furniture that seemed to have witnessed a hundred strangers’ tears.This wasn’t my room.This wasn’t my life.This wasn’t supposed t
Chapter 67—Brandon’s pov Rage UnleashedThe house had never been this quiet before. Not peaceful quiet. Not restful quiet. This was the kind of silence that pressed against the walls like something alive… something watching. Brandon sat in the center of it. Motionless. Straight-backed in his wheelchair. Hands resting on the armrests. Eyes open. He had not slept. Not for one second. The clock on the far wall ticked. Each second scraped against his skull like glass. Freya was gone. And the world had not dared to stop with her.Kyle stood near the doorway, tablet clutched tightly in his hands. He had delivered bad news to powerful men before. Billionaires. Politicians. Criminals. None of them had ever frightened him like Brandon did now. Because Brandon wasn’t shouting. He wasn’t raging. He wasn’t even moving. He was still. And Kyle had learned long ago that when men like Brandon went still… someone else was about to fall.“Sir,” Kyle said carefully, voice low, “we tracke
CHAPTER 66 — Freya’s POVNowhere Feels Like HomeThe cab didn’t wait for me to change my mind. Its taillights vanished down the empty road before I could even pull my coat tighter. Silence swallowed the hum of the engine. I stood there. Alone. Behind me, the inn creaked softly in the wind, its wooden sign swaying with a faint groan that sounded older than the road itself. A thin yellow light spilled from the front window—warm, distant—like a promise of comfort just out of reach. The night air bit into my skin, but I didn’t shiver. I barely felt it. My fingers tightened slowly around the necklace against my collarbone—Brandon’s necklace. The metal felt cold now. Not comforting. Not safe. Just… heavy. I swallowed hard. “You promised,” I whispered into the night, voice barely audible. The wind offered no response.Inside the InnThe woman at the front desk watched me quietly, asking no questions. She simply handed me a key, cast a quick glance at my face, and said softly, “Roo
CHAPTER 65 — Brandon’s POVThe Silence After the StormThe house had never felt this deafening.Not with shouting.Not with shattering glass.Not with slammed doors.Only silence.It pressed against my ears, crawled under my skin, and sat across from me in the dim living room like an uninvited witness, replaying every word she had said.Am I a burden to you?I dragged a hand down my face, my heart heavy.The lamp beside the couch cast a weak amber glow, insufficient to warm the coldness that had settled in the room. The storm outside was still a distant threat, but the air felt thick — heavy with anticipation, as if it were waiting for everything to break.Her voice echoed relentlessly.Don’t treat me like a child.I want to be trusted.If you didn’t want me anymore, just say so.I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, hands clenched so tightly they ached.I had faced boardrooms full of men intent on destroying me.Handled scandals, betrayals, bloodlines tangled in politics.Nothing — n
CHAPTER 64 — Freya’s POVHeavy Lies the HeartI woke up smiling, not the forced kind, but a genuine one that took me by surprise. I even touched my lips to see if it was real. Next to me, Brandon was peacefully asleep—his hair a bit tousled, his face relaxed, one arm stretched out as if he’d reached for me in the night and hadn’t even realized it. My chest felt warm and soft. Last night’s memories replayed in fragments—the whisper of his voice asking, 'Are you sure?', the breathless moment when I said, 'I want you,' and the slight tremor in his hand when he touched my waist, as if afraid I’d disappear if he held on too tightly. I took a deep breath. Even with him right here, I missed him. Carefully, I slipped out of bed so I wouldn’t wake him. My feet touched the cool floor, grounding me in the peaceful morning. Sunlight peeked through the curtains, soft and warm, like the day itself was rooting for us. I whispered to myself, 'I want to try.' Not just to feel better, but to
FREYA’S POVThe valet reached for the door before I could catch my breath.Brandon glanced at me from the other side of the car, offering his hand just as the cool evening breeze swept through the parking circle, tugging at my gown. For a moment, I didn’t move. Not because I didn’t want to, but bec
FREYA’S POVI wasn’t sure if I wanted to look expensive or invisible.That was the dilemma tugging at me as I stood in front of a row of glimmering gowns, all lined like porcelain dolls—flawless, silent, and intimidating. I could see my reflection in the mirror beside the rack: jeans, sneakers, a s
FREYA’S POVI was curled up on the couch when Brandon got home. The news was playing in the background, but I wasn’t really watching. i had read the same line in my book four times and still couldn’t tell you what it said. My mind kept drifting—backward, sideways, never forward. The air was thick w
BRANDON’S POVMondays weren’t supposed to be this long.The office was unusually quiet for once, which should have been a blessing, but it only made the ticking clock above the window louder. I sat at the conference table with a pen in one hand and a cup of cold coffee in the other, sifting through







