All Chapters of THE HARRISON HEIRESS: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Chapter 31 Malum’s POV I hadn’t come to Dubai to admire its skyline or indulge in luxury. Every step I took through the city was calculated. I was here with Cassandra, yes—but not for romance, not for leisure. I had come with a cunning plan, one born out of desperation and ambition tightly knotted together. When the Harrisons had refused to acknowledge my contract proposal in Chicago, something inside me snapped. I had smiled through it, played the gracious businessman, but the rejection had burned deeper than I let on. If the Chicago branch wouldn’t bend, then Dubai would. The Harrison Group was vast—too vast, in my opinion, to be unified in loyalty and judgment. Dubai, with its fast-moving deals and appetite for influence, was the perfect weak point. All I needed was one opening, one executive willing to listen, one signature placed without the scrutiny of the main board. The truth was this: Sutton Windsor Global Trading was hemorrhaging. Not visibly—not yet—but I co

Freya’s POV When I finally told Scarlett about the address—the café, the woman, the hope that rose too fast and shattered just as quickly—she went quiet in that way she did when she was trying not to let her emotions overwhelm mine. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “If there’s any way I pushed you into this—” “No,” I cut in gently. “You didn’t. Not even a little. I needed to go. I needed to know.” She still looked unconvinced, her brows drawn together, guilt flickering in her eyes as if she were searching for somewhere to place the blame. I reached across the table and squeezed her hand, grounding us both. “This wasn’t on you,” I said again. “It was just… another wrong door.” Scarlett exhaled, then straightened like she’d made a decision. “Then let me see you. Properly. Let’s meet. Food, coffee—anything. I don’t like the idea of you sitting alone with all this in your head.” I should have declined. I knew that. But Scarlett had a way of insisting without sounding like she was

Kai’s POV I noticed it the moment it happened. The second Freya lifted her head and caught me looking at her, something shifted in her expression. It wasn’t a surprise. It wasn’t anger either. It was fear. Her eyes widened just a fraction before she pulled them away, pretending she hadn’t seen me at all. She turned back to Scarlett too quickly, her smile forced, her shoulders suddenly stiff like she’d remembered something she’d been trying to forget. I hadn’t heard what they were talking about, but I didn’t need to. Unease clung to her like a shadow. When her phone rang, I saw the color drain from her face. She didn’t even let it ring twice before answering. She stood up almost immediately after, mumbling something to Scarlett that I couldn’t make out, already reaching for her bag. She didn’t look in my direction again. Not once. I watched her walk out, every step hurried, like staying even one second longer would cost her something. I followed at a distance, stopping just

Cassandra’s POV Even though Freya and I had never been friends—and never tried to be—I had always been painfully aware of her presence. She was the quiet obstacle. The silent barrier between Malum and me. I had convinced myself long ago that Freya was the only reason Malum and I could never truly be together. If Freya didn’t exist, there would be no guilt, no restraint, no half-hidden glances or stolen moments that ended in frustration. And I also believed—no, I knew—that Freya saw me as the reason Malum had been unfaithful. The reason her marriage was hollow. The reason her home never felt safe. That awareness didn’t soften my heart. If anything, it hardened it. Understanding the narrative didn’t mean I wanted to change it. I didn’t. Freya could keep playing the victim if she wanted—quiet, obedient, pitiful Freya who acted like life had merely happened to her. I had no interest in sympathy. What I wanted was what I believed I deserved. Freya’s place. Freya’s life. And most

Cassandra’s POV Freya hadn’t been lying when she said she would think about meeting me for a drink. She had honored her word. She showed up. That alone surprised me. Ever since Malum found a new angle to get the Harrisons’ attention, he hadn’t paid much attention to anything else—least of all me. That made it easy to move around without questions. Leaving the office under the pretense of searching for the Harrisons’ lost daughter had been effortless. Malum bought the excuse without hesitation, especially since it aligned perfectly with his own obsession. By the time I arrived at the café, Freya was already seated. She sat quietly, hands folded around her phone, eyes drifting toward the window as though she was waiting for something more than just me. For a brief moment, I paused, observing her. There was nothing dramatic about her presence—no arrogance, no desperation either. Just calm. Too calm for someone who supposedly had nothing. “I’m sorry I’m late,” I said as I approache