All Chapters of Runaway Bride to his Billionaire Rival : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Randy’s smile waited for her on the screen. No surprise, no concern. The kind of smile that says, “I already planned how this ends.” He had been waiting for her to arrive so the story could start. The men at the table did not greet her. They looked at her the way people look at something valuable they’re not sure they own yet. Scott stayed half a step behind her. Not touching and not guiding. Just there, solid and quiet, like a promise he would not speak unless she wanted him to. Randy’s voice came through the speakers, warm and patient. “Freeda. I told you not to do this publicly.” She did not look at the screen. She did not even blink. Instead, she walked forward until she reached the end of the long table, close enough that the men could see her clearly, close enough that none of them could pretend she was fragile or unsure or anything soft they could rearrange. Her hands rested lightly on the back of the chair in front of her, fingers relaxed, grip easy. She didn’t s

“Freeda,” Randy said through the door, calmly. “Open up. Let’s talk.”Winnie’s breath caught like she’d swallowed it wrong. Kris stood with her phone in her hand, not recording, not calling, just holding it like a weapon she didn’t know how to use.Scott didn’t look at the peephole. He looked at the lock.Freeda stayed in the kitchen doorway. Close enough to hear every syllable. Far enough to remind herself she still had choices.“No,” she said.Randy laughed quietly. Not amused. Familiar. Like she’d said something he’d heard before.“You keep saying that word like it’s new.”“It’s new for you,” Freeda said. “Go away.”A pause.Then Randy, softer, as if he were doing her a favor. “I’m not here to fight.”Kris scoffed. “You’re always here to fight.”Randy ignored her. “Freeda. I left something for you.”Winnie’s voice shook. “You don’t get to leave anything.”Freeda’s eyes flicked to the counter without meaning to. The watch sat there like it had been waiting.Randy’s voice warmed a fr

Freeda could still taste the microphones. Dry metal and heat. Every time she swallowed, it felt like the room was still inside her, still staring, still waiting for her to crack.Scott kept them moving through a back corridor, Winnie and Kris tight on their heels. A woman in a headset caught Scott’s arm.“Mr. Baley, security needs you for one minute.”Scott stopped. He turned to Freeda first.“Stay here,” he said.Freeda lifted her chin. “I am not a child.”“I know,” he replied. “I am asking, not ordering.”Winnie shifted close. “We are not letting her stand alone.”Scott nodded once and stepped away with the woman.Freeda leaned back against the wall. Her hands were steady. That scared her more than shaking.A man stepped out from the end of the corridor. Not staff. Not press. Suit neat, smile polite, eyes sharp.He walked toward her as if he knew her.Winnie’s shoulders squared. “Can we help you?”The man did not answer Winnie. He looked at Freeda.“Miss James,” he said. “You spoke

Freeda ended the call and kept the phone in her palm, as if it were still burning.The car was quiet in the way a room gets quiet after shouting. Winnie sat behind her with her arms folded tight. Kris stared out the window, jaw set, like she was daring herself not to cry. Scott drove with both hands on the wheel, eyes forward, face calm that did not match the muscles jumping in his cheek.“He asked me to pick,” Freeda said.Winnie leaned in. “Pick what?”Freeda looked at Scott’s profile. “Why do I want you?”Scott’s fingers tightened, then loosened.Kris let out a dry laugh. “He is insane.”Freeda did not laugh. “He wants to hear me say it out loud.”Scott’s voice stayed low. “Do not give him that.”Freeda turned toward him. “You do not get to tell me what to say.”Scott glanced at her for half a second. “You are right.”Freeda watched him for a few breaths, then spoke again. “Where are we going?”Scott answered without looking at her. “My place.”Winnie groaned. “Not again.”Freeda’s

Freeda’s phone buzzed, paused, then buzzed again, hard.Winnie lifted her head. “If that’s him, I’m throwing it.”Kris sat up. “It’s him.”Freeda picked it up.3 PM. Come alone.Her jaw tightened.Kris leaned over her shoulder. “Alone. Like you’re a bag he forgot at the venue.”Winnie pushed herself upright. “You’re not going.”“I am,” Freeda said.Winnie blinked. “Freeda.”“I’m going,” Freeda repeated, calmer. “Just not the way he wants.”Scott appeared in the doorway. He looked at Freeda’s face and didn’t ask questions.“He wants you alone,” he said.Freeda turned the screen toward him.Scott nodded once. “He wants you quiet.”“He wants me small,” Freeda said. “He wants me grateful.”Winnie sat up fully. “So what’s the move?”Freeda typed while they watched, thumbs steady on purpose.3 PM is fine. But not private. You want to talk, we can talk where people can hear you.She hit send before doubt could grab her wrist.Kris exhaled. “Good.”A reply came back.You are still trying to m