Best Freida Mcfadden Books Novels & Stories

Exhaling sharply, I pulled out the bedside drawer and picked up a handcuff. “What do you want to do with—“ Before she could complete her statement, I deftly secured one end of the cuff around her wrist and the other one to the bed, binding them together. I was done playing her game. I needed to find out who she was and what she was sent to do. “What the fuck!” She yelled as she started pulling the cuff vigorously in an attempt to free herself. “Quit trying.” I told her. I walked to where she had dropped her purse and picked it up.

They buried her. She came back as their mother. ------ Freya Calloway was the genius who built her family's empire — and the embarrassment they hid from every photograph. Too fat to stand beside them. Too sharp to be loved. Her husband, Adrian, was the only one who never looked through her. Until she came home early one afternoon and found him in bed with her adopted sister. When she confronted them, they didn't beg. They pushed her off a balcony, dumped her in the woods, and told the world she'd run away with another man. Her own parents buried an empty coffin to protect the family name. But Freya didn't die. Three years later, she returns to Chicago with a new face, a new fortune, an

Something that couldn't have been easily fixed. Liya knocked, trying to smile as she got into Aria's room. Aria was already up and refreshed, reading a book on her bed. Liya tried observing every single action that Aria made, trying to see if she noticed that something was going on with her brother. But Aria seemed like she was oblivious to whatever had happened to Aldo. “Have you read Frieda McFadden's newest book?” She asked out of excitement. “Yes, I have,” Liya said, trying to sound more excited than she was worried. “I read it the same day that Aldo brought it from the bookstore.”

She voiced out. Jayda immediately remembered that she was reading an interesting ebook, a romance novel that she needed to finish, "The Snooty Billionaire's Maid" by "Gift Odulesi" so she rushed back to the top floor balcony with her laptop to hurry up with it. *** Freya wasn't feeling comfortable, she had a slight headache and she couldn't even fall asleep. Why was life against her? She groaned. She happened to be free from her dangerous boss today who gave her the day off because she was feeling sick.

March 10, 2026: Author Announcement. My Dear Readers, Thank you for reading this book until the very end. I hope you enjoyed the story between Kenneth Wright and Freya King. "Finding Mr. Perfect" is part of the family series, "Love and Legacy in the House of the Kings." Book 1: Divorced My Cheating Husband, Married A Billionaire Book 2: The Bad Boy Next Room Book 3: Finding Mr. Perfect Note that you can also find Book 2 merged with Book 1, and the same goes for Book 2 and Book 3. It was only later that I decided to separate Freya's story as a standalone.

I turned away from them and walked to the first cell on the left. Inside was a young woman, she was stunning looking, and she had made sure she kept herself and her cell clean and tidy. She was sitting on her rug, cross-legged on the floor. She had a pad and some pencils in front of her. I sat down on the floor just outside her cell and said softly, “Hi, I'm Freya. What are you up to?”

She smiled, holding my hands in hers. “We’ll enlighten you ladies on some great positions to get your spouse skipping his business meeting” The voice of Adriana was loud enough to snap my focus back. And then the chuckles followed at her utterance, the ladies around finding amusement in each word that poured out her lips. “Missionary” Her cane connected on the screen with a smack, the eyes of the lady shifting through the ones before her. “This one here is great, but from time to time you would need to spice things up”

I wanted to ask her what it was that she was looking for, but decided against it and stayed quiet so she could do her job. But just as Sarah took a step forward, probably in order to help her out, Freya stopped in front of one of the racks and pulled out an old book from one of the bottom shelves. “There!” She whispered, holding up the leather-bound book covered in dust. “I found it…I found out…” “What?” I asked her desperately. “What is it? Tell me!” I think everyone in the room was eager to find out what Freya wanted to tell us as well, because all of us had been watching us with teeth-gritting patience, without uttering a single word.

A different genre now: less mistress, more woman trying to escape a storm she had chosen to linger in. Abigail stepped closer, seeking space, footing, control. “I am not Randy, Freeda.” Freeda almost smiled. “That is the first true thing you’ve said.” Abigail’s jaw tightened. “I came here to apologize.” “No,” Freeda said firmly. “You came here to separate yourself from him before the story stains you permanently.” Abigail’s eyes flickered, a flash of indignation. “You think you know everything now because the donors moved.” Freeda held her gaze. “No. I know enough to recognize timing.”

I was drifting in the air, stunned. I watched as the heart monitor beside me flatlined, its beeping alarm ringing through the room. The person in the hospital bed was barely recognizable—severely burned, completely wrapped in thick bandages, with no way to tell their gender. The patient chart at the foot of the bed was the only clue to their identity. But Quentin Scofield couldn't care less about that. All he cared about was finding a way to clear his beloved Taylor Cross of any charges.