All Chapters of Freya Betrayal : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

FREYA I hadn’t expected the elevator ride to feel like this.The mirrored walls reflected too many versions of myself—composed but wide-eyed, curious but tense, bracing for something I hadn’t entirely imagined becoming real.When the doors slid open on the executive floor, the hum of quiet efficiency hit me first—phones clicking, heels tapping on marble, voices low and clipped. The Lefevre Corporation’s upper echelon was a world apart from everything I’d known before. Sleek, modern, immaculate. And now… somehow mine to walk through.Brandon was at my side, his hand resting briefly on the small of my back—steady, warm. Just that touch reminded me I wasn’t alone in this.“I figured we’d get you settled before your first orientation meeting this afternoon,” he said.I nodded, my throat dry. “Okay.”As we turned a corner, a man in a dark suit and an eager smile approached—older, somewhere in his early fifties, with a trimmed silver beard and the type of presence that suggested boardroom

FREYA I had barely finished reviewing the agenda for the morning when Lucy walked in, holding a tablet and a coffee cup like she was about to juggle three more items. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, sharp eyes already scanning the screen as she made her way to the chair across from my desk.“Okay, Mrs. Lefevre—correction, Executive Lefevre,” she said with a cheeky smile as she sat down. “Here’s how your day is looking.”I smiled faintly, sipping the coffee she brought me earlier. “Hit me with it.”“So, first things first, you have a department check-in at ten. Marketing wants to update you on their projections for the next quarter. Then at eleven-thirty, you and Brandon are reviewing the new vendor bids for the New York expansion. Lunch is free—unless Brandon hijacks your schedule again—and at two you’ve got an internal briefing with finance. Might want to bring aspirin to that one. Then at four…”I listened—or tried to—but her voice was like background music to the mess

FREYA Dinner was quiet at first. Not the awkward kind of quiet—more like a calm after a long day kind. The dining room was bathed in the warm, golden glow of the pendant lights overhead, casting soft shadows across the white plates and glasses of water. Brandon had cooked again—or rather, reheated leftovers from earlier in the week, but the effort still counted.I appreciated the normalcy. The way he sat across from me in his dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the top two buttons undone, a little wrinkle in his brow like he hadn’t quite clocked out of the office yet. I recognized that look. He was thinking—probably about work, or something I’d said in passing that he hadn’t let go of."You're barely touching your food," he finally said, setting down his fork and narrowing his eyes on me.I paused, blinking back into the moment. “I’m eating. Just… slowly.”He leaned forward, elbows on the table, his voice quieter. “Is it the nausea again? I can get you something else.”I smiled a

BRANDON The scent of brewed coffee and warm buttered toast drifted through the air as I stood by the kitchen island, flipping through my emails on the tablet. Freya sat at the breakfast table, her hair falling softly over her shoulder, still damp from her morning shower. She was slicing into a piece of fruit, her expression distant, like her thoughts were elsewhere—somewhere quiet and far away.It was one of those mornings where the light came in just right through the kitchen windows, catching the golden strands in her hair and making her look almost ethereal. I caught myself staring, forgetting the article I had been skimming, forgetting the meetings lined up for the day. All I could think about was how lucky I was that she was here—real, steady, and slowly becoming the anchor I never knew I needed.I set the tablet down and reached for my coffee. It wasn’t exactly the most romantic setting—me in a crisp white shirt already half-dressed for work, her in one of my oversized sweatshi

FREYA'S POVI stayed quiet as the meeting finally wound down—the silence felt heavier than any argument ever could. Papers rustled, chairs scrubbed across the floor, and breaths let out like they’d just crossed a finish line. Although in here, the final buzzer meant only one thing: be ready for the next challenge.Brandon was the first to rise. I slid out of my chair and stood too, smoothing the crease in my skirt without really noticing the fabric. He moved past colleagues with a confident, measured stride toward the massive double doors. I followed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. The room felt charged one moment longer, like it needed to exhale.At the threshold, Brandon paused. He looked down at me—just for a second, but that was all it took. That look said everything: Come on. It was time.He led the way out, and before I even registered the shift in space, we were met by two bubbling faces: Gerald and Kyle, standing just beyond the doors like sentries guarding a pr