All Chapters of Rebirth of the naive maid: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Freya's p.o.v "That piece of shit has been getting on my nerves for far too long and I won't sit and watch while he disrespect my husband, Juliana," I tried to control myself. " He thinks he could win me back by pulling that trick on me, playing the savior when he had infact planned all of it." Juliana's expression remained serene, a mask of calm demeanor, but her brow betrayed her, arching in a fleeting moment of surprise as she glanced up at me, her eyes locking onto the bundle in my arms. Leah, sensing my tension, stirred, her tiny hands fluttering against my chest as I held her close, my grip instinctively tightening around her tiny frame. Juliana's gaze lingered for a beat, her surprise giving way to curiosity, before she returned to her task, scooping the almond-filled yoghurt with a deliberate calmness, the spoon sliding against the sides of the bowl in a soothing rhythm. The air was thick with unspoken questions, but Juliana didn't press, her focus on the simple task at han

Freya's p.o.v A wave of trepidation washed over me, my heart racing like a drumbeat in my chest as I stepped into the station, my legs carrying me forward on autopilot. The weight of betrayal hung heavy, a crushing realization that the man I had trusted implicitly, the one I had given my unwavering loyalty to, was nothing but a masterful deceiver. He had woven a web of lies, concealing the truth from me all my life, and the sheer magnitude of his deception left me reeling, my senses dulled by the shock of it all. As if that wasn't enough. Now, this is happening. And all at the same time. A anguished cry echoed in my mind as I whispered to myself, "My boy. My poor, poor boy." The weight of worry crushed me, imagining him huddled somewhere, shivering with fear and the biting chill, his small frame overwhelmed by the darkness. The guilt gnawed at my heart like a festering wound, taunting me with recriminations - I should have been there, by his side, shielding him from the cold

Freya's p.o.v The officer's words hung in the air like a challenge, his expression a mask of calm curiosity as he reappeared in the doorway. "I think we already found the location," he said, turning to leave the room in haste. "I'm coming with you," responses Ethan. "Me too," I added. The officer's expression turned stern, his eyes flicking between Ethan and me. "No, Mrs. Freya," he said, his tone gentle but unyielding. "That would be dangerous, considering the fact that you are still in shock and all. You're in no condition to be traipsing around, putting yourself at risk." He paused, his expression softening slightly. "You can be rest assured that with the current information in our care, your son will be found and brought home safe. We'll do everything in our power, I promise you that." His words were meant to be reassuring, but they fell flat somehow, like a promise made by a stranger. "But she had warned me not to inform the police. She'd—," I tried to disagree with th

Ethan's p.o.v Martha's voice dripped with venom as she continued, "Since you've chosen to walk into this alone, leaving that... woman behind, I see no reason to drag this out any longer." A cold, mirthless smile twisted her lips. "She's merely fortunate her own fate's been postponed – for now. But make no mistake, her time's coming, and it won't be pleasant." A chill coursed through my veins like ice water as Martha's words hung in the air, her eyes glazing over with a detached calculation. Her fingers, steady as stone, wrapped tighter around the gun's grip, the metal gliding into position with a soft, ominous click. The trigger waited, a hair's breadth from unleashing its deadly payload. Adrenaline surged, overriding fear, and I sprang into motion. My instincts screamed at me to act, now. Reaching behind me with a speed that caught me off guard, I yanked the pistol from its hidden holster and swung it up, aiming point-blank at Martha's arm. The muzzle flared, a deafening crack s

Freya's p.o.v The burning flame crackling in the fireplace in the living room could barely match the heat already building inside of me for him—at the mere look of his ever captivating blue eyes and honesty. "No, Freya," he reassured. "I never had any idea about the letters. I had received the same letter from you telling me to move on and that everything we shared and had was a lie not knowing I had been lied to by Martha. I never knew you were pregnant after I left, Freya." I swallowed, my gaze shifting to the cup of hot tea I had made in his hand, before settling on the one on mine. "I had gone with my grandma to share the good news with Martha and your family but was received with so much contempt and disdain by them, including your father we made me believe there was no way I could mean anything to you." He was as twice as much a victim as I am in the whole of this situation. But to think he had reopened my grandma's death case behind my back was something I never expe