All Chapters of Freya Betrayal : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Freya's POV I heard the front door click shut just as I was pulling the lasagna out of the oven and the cupcakes Lucy and I left for Brandon. The familiar creak of Brandon’s leather shoes across the perfectly polished floors made my heart lift, even if I wouldn’t admit it out loud. I didn’t have to turn around to know he was loosening his tie, shedding the sharp corporate armor he wore every day like second skin.“You’re home earlier than I thought,” I said, glancing over my shoulder. He was in the doorway now, a tired smile tugging at his lips, his hair slightly disheveled from running his hands through it—something he did when he was stressed or lost in thought.“Traffic gods were on my side for once,” he said, stepping into the kitchen. He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to my temple, his hands brushing lightly over my waist. “Something smells amazing.”“Lasagna,” I said, sliding the dish onto the counter. “With extra cheese. Figured you could use the comfort carbs.”“You figur

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 with that subtle kind of silence that settles right before something is said. I felt it the second he walked through the door.He greeted me with a quiet “Hey,” setting his briefcase down near the console table and slipping off his shoes. His tie was already loosed around his neck, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up. Tired, but not defeated. That was how Brandon always looked at the end of a long day—like a man who had stared down chaos and came out of it still standing.“Long day?” I asked, marking my page even though I hadn’t really read anything.“You could say that,” he replied, heading to the kitchen. I heard the soft clink of glass, the pour of water. No wine tonight. Interesting.I w

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 because I needed a second—just one—to gather the version of myself I had so carefully put together.Then I stepped out.Cameras flashed—nothing too wild, just a few discreet ones from media reps stationed near the entrance for the company’s press release. A low murmur rippled through the crowd as Brandon and I walked up the carpeted steps. I felt it in the air—the pause, the lingering glances, the curiosity, the comparison.Good.Brandon’s hand stayed at the small of my back, warm and grounding. He looked every bit the part—black tailored tuxedo, crisp white shirt, satin bowtie, and that unmistakable ease he wore like a second skin. He didn’t just look powerful—he looked in control. Present. Wi

FREYA The car ride home was a quiet one, wrapped in silence that didn’t feel heavy—just fragile. Like if either of us said the wrong thing, it would crack something open that neither of us was ready to touch yet.Brandon’s hand rested on my knee, warm and steady. It wasn’t possessive, not even protective—it was grounding. A quiet reminder that I wasn’t alone. That he was here. And somehow, that was the only thing holding me together.Outside, the city blurred past in streaks of amber and gold. Inside, I sat in the dark cocoon of the backseat, replaying the hallway over and over again in my mind. Bryan’s voice. His grip. My own heartbeat pounding too fast. And then—Brandon. The sound of his voice slicing through it all. The way everything shifted the moment he stepped between us.I hadn't said much since we left. And he hadn’t pushed.When the car finally pulled into the private driveway, Brandon was the first to get out. He walked around to my side and opened the door before the driv

FREYA I never thought I’d find myself in a boardroom.Not one like this.The long, polished mahogany table stretched out beneath a chandelier that looked like it belonged in a palace. Everything gleamed—the glass walls, the branded folders lined up at each seat, the calm surface of water in crystal pitchers, as if even the beverages had been instructed to behave. It was a stark contrast to the churning in my stomach.I’d dressed with more precision than usual that morning—black wide-legged trousers, a sleek blouse tucked in just right, and a tailored blazer that Brandon had insisted I wear. “You’ll look the part,” he said. “Because you are.”Still, I wasn’t sure if I was ready for what this morning meant. Not until I stepped into that room and saw their faces.Especially Bryan’s.And Rachelle’s.They were already seated when we arrived. Brandon walked in first, a natural in these spaces, his calm authority pressing into the room like gravity. I followed a step behind, chin lifted, ev