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Married to His Rival : The Jilted Heiress's Revenge
NovelShort
Hoàn thành
In the eighteenth year after Lily Gilbert became the Vance family's adopted daughter, she married their eldest son. Joshua hosted a banquet for all of Capital City to witness his wedding to Lily. But ...
Chương (7)
第1章
In the eighteenth year since Freya Gilbert became the adopted daughter of the Vance family, she married their eldest son.
Francis Vance had invited all of Capital City to witness his wedding to Freya.
But just as Freya extended her hand with a face full of happiness, waiting for the ring to slip onto her finger, someone crashed the wedding and stole the groom right in front of everyone!
Chloe Swanson swept in wearing a backless red dress, her lips curving confidently at Francis. "Francis, I'm the one destined to spend my life with you! If you don't leave with me today, you'll never see me again!"
The venue erupted into chaos. Someone suddenly shouted, "Look at her back! What that homeless man said was true!"
Three years ago, a middle-aged man dressed like a vagrant had claimed he could see the future—that he was humanity's Prophet. He had left Francis with these words: "When you turn twenty-three, you will meet a woman with seven cinnabar moles on her back. You will fall in love with her at first sight and give her everything."
At first, Freya hadn't taken the vagrant's words seriously. After all, she and Francis had grown up together since they were five. They had seen each other at their worst and had stayed up countless nights baring their souls to one another.
They were confidants, family, and lovers. Freya was certain nothing could tear them apart.
Until one stormy night a month ago, when Francis brought home a soaking wet Chloe Swanson.
In eighteen years together, Francis had never so much as exchanged extra words with any woman, let alone felt enough sympathy for a stranger who'd run away from home to take her in.
Yet for Chloe, Francis made an exception.
He explained to Freya, "She's the heiress of Swanson Pharmaceuticals in Harbor City. We have business dealings with them. It was nothing."
Freya believed him.
But the next day, she saw Chloe walk out of the bathroom wearing Francis's shirt.
Freya froze in disbelief. Francis had been severely germaphobic since childhood—she was the only one allowed to touch his things, and even then, never his clothes!
Francis, with that impossibly handsome face of his, said casually, "Miss Swanson's clothes are in the wash. I lent her mine."
This blatant double standard left Freya silently fuming. But Francis seemed to have lost his soul to Chloe, spending over ten days by her side without noticing Freya's displeasure at all.
Francis, who never cooked, was suddenly willing to squeeze into the greasy kitchen with Chloe. The two worked together seamlessly, chatting like an old married couple.
It was as if the Prophet's words were being proven true—they were the ones meant to be together.
Freya refused to believe such a coincidence could exist. So she contacted the Swanson family in Harbor City herself and asked them to take their daughter back.
But when Francis learned she had revealed Chloe's hiding place, he exploded at her for the first time. The look in his eyes was like he was staring at an enemy, as if he wanted to skin her alive on the spot.
All the grievances and neglect Freya had endured finally boiled over.
She slapped Francis across the face. "Francis Vance! She's the outsider in this house! What did I do wrong?!"
Francis was silent for a long time. Then he tried to explain his feelings for Chloe: "The Prophet wasn't lying. The moment I saw Chloe, I was drawn to her for no reason. Just looking at her makes my heart ache and my eyes sting. There's this bond deep in my soul that makes me want to be good to her. I'll sort out my feelings. Freya, just give me some time, okay?"
How could Freya possibly accept that?
"If you can't bear to leave her, fine. I'll leave. I'll step aside for you."
That one sentence snapped Francis back to his senses. He stopped paying attention to Chloe. To make it up to Freya, he proposed formally, showered her with gifts, and invited the entire city to witness their love.
Freya's spiraling thoughts were suddenly yanked back by a sharp pain in her finger.
The ring that should have been placed on her ring finger had been shoved hastily onto her thumb instead. Freya instinctively reached out to grab Francis as he turned to leave.
But he was so desperate to stop Chloe from leaving that his violent pull sent Freya tumbling off the stage. The towering champagne pyramid collapsed instantly, crashing down on top of her.
Her flawless makeup was ruined in an instant. Blood stained her wedding dress. The ring slipped off her thumb.
Even that commotion couldn't make Francis look back once. He ran toward Chloe, took her hand, and disappeared from the hall.
A waiter helped Freya to her feet. Jonathan Vance's face was grim as he ushered the guests out.
Freya leaned against the stage, a mess of blood and champagne, and suddenly remembered something from when she was ten. The Vance manor had caught fire, and she was trapped inside. Everyone was holding Francis back, telling him not to rush into the flames. But he had said, "Freya only has me. I can't abandon her!"
The same Francis who would have died to save her had just abandoned her at their own wedding.
Freya rubbed the red mark on her thumb.
Maybe it was time to let go.
For eighteen years as the Vance family's adopted daughter, she had never truly been herself.
Suddenly, more than anything, Freya wanted to shed the identity of a top-tier family's adopted daughter.
第2章
Freya returned home and began packing her belongings while waiting for Francis.
For eighteen years, Francis had been so good to her. Every item displayed in her room bore his touch—paper stars he'd folded by hand, beautiful dresses he'd given her, a diamond tiara he'd won at auction by bidding an astronomical sum.
These things she once treasured now looked like nothing more than a pile of junk.
Dawn light filtered through the window.
Dark circles under her eyes, Freya stepped out of her now-empty room and walked straight into Francis's arms.
"Freya, throwing yourself at me so early in the morning?"
"Leaving you yesterday was my fault. I've rescheduled the wedding. Tomorrow, I promise nothing like that will happen again."
Freya caught the heavy scent of roses clinging to him, and her throat tightened as if stuffed with cotton.
Only after everything was over did he remember her.
Did he want to make her the laughingstock of Capital City again?
Freya pushed him away. "Francis, let's end this."
In an instant, his expression darkened like a gathering storm.
The smile still hung at the corner of his lips, yet she could clearly sense his anger.
"Freya, I know you're upset that I left with Chloe yesterday. You can hit me, curse me—anything. But don't you ever say we're over!"
Freya frowned, about to tell him she was serious, when his phone rang and cut her off.
Whatever was said on the other end made his face change dramatically.
He grabbed her wrist hard.
"Chloe's being held at a casino. You know some martial arts—come with me and help get her out."
Pain shot through her wrist. He had to care that much to be this frantic.
Bitterness spread from her heart to her mouth, so bitter her eyes grew wet.
Fine. She'd help him this once—consider it repayment for everything the Vance family had done for her.
Only when they arrived did Freya learn the deal: a one-for-one exchange.
Inside the private room, over a dozen menacing men surrounded a pale-faced Chloe.
Freya's eyes met those of a man sitting in the corner, watching the scene unfold, and her heart lurched.
Kieran James. The man who'd pursued her for five solid years. When had he returned to the country?
"Tsk. Didn't expect the young Mr. Vance would actually bring Freya Gilbert here for his soulmate from a past life."
Before Francis could speak, Chloe let out a contemptuous laugh. "I told you—Francis will always take care of me."
Francis's eyes were full of concern for Chloe. He turned to Freya. "Chloe can't get hurt. Freya, stay here and stall them for now."
The next second, he shoved her forward.
This was the second time. Abandoned without hesitation because of Chloe. A sharp ache pierced Freya's chest.
Kieran rose unhurriedly, having seen enough. The overwhelming pressure of his presence seemed to slow the very air around them.
"Freya, is a man like that worth your tears?"
She looked up at him without a word. Her reddened eyes made Kieran freeze—something like surrender, or perhaps heartache, flickered across his face. He reached out and wiped the tear from the corner of her eye. "Does our bet still stand?"
A year ago, faced with his ninety-ninth confession, Freya had made a wager to make him give up: if the day ever came when Francis no longer loved her, she would accept him.
She never expected that day to come so soon.
Freya pressed her lips together. A bet was a bet.
Even after holding the marriage certificate in her hands, it still felt unreal.
"Kieran, come pick me up in three days."
The James family's home was three or four cities away from Capital City. Before leaving, Freya wanted to visit her master in the countryside.
That little old man who always used to sneak her candy.
Kieran's hand covered hers. When he felt her body stiffen slightly, he chuckled softly. "As you wish, wife."
第3章
Kieran drove Freya to the Vance manor.
When she was five, Freya's parents had abandoned her beside a roadside dumpster. If not for Jonathan, she would have died that winter.
She owed him a proper goodbye.
"All these years, I've thought of you as my own daughter," Jonathan said.
"If you want to leave, I won't stop you. But I want you to know—there will always be a place for you in this family."
Leaving the manor, Freya's heart was a tangled mess of emotions. If not for that so-called Prophet, if Chloe had never appeared, her life might have been complete.
But life was never that simple.
When she arrived home, she found the housekeeper had moved all her belongings out of her room and dumped them in the storage closet.
Before she could ask what was going on, Chloe emerged from her room with a bright smile.
"Miss Gilbert, I'll be staying here for a few days. You don't mind, do you?"
Freya froze. Was this Francis's idea too?
"Freya, let Miss Swanson have your room for now. You can stay with me these next couple of days."
Freya's fingers curled into fists. She let out a bitter laugh. "Francis moved my things without my permission. I want her to apologize."
"And I have no intention of sharing a bed with you."
In all the years Francis had known her, Freya had never spoken to him so sharply.
He stared into her dark eyes, and for a moment, she felt like a stranger.
Chloe acted as though the tension was unbearable.
She flicked her wavy hair over her shoulder. "If Miss Gilbert doesn't want me here, forget it. I have plenty of places to go."
With that, she sauntered off, hips swaying.
Francis hesitated for a second, then grabbed his jacket and went after her.
The sight cut Freya to the bone.
Once upon a time, Francis had been that attentive to her feelings.
Freya lay down in her empty room, exhausted, and fell into a deep sleep.
The next morning, she was roughly shaken awake by a makeup artist Francis had hired.
"Miss Gilbert, the young master has arranged a makeup wedding at the amusement park you two used to visit as children."
"We're on a tight schedule. Please cooperate."
Freya, still groggy and irritated, said flatly, "Get out. I'm not going through with this wedding."
But the makeup artist insisted on doing her face. When Freya's temper flared and she tried to leave, the woman jabbed a needle into her arm—a sedative.
Freya's pupils contracted sharply. Her body went limp, and she was carried to the venue.
The entire amusement park was blanketed in red roses. Romantic. Dreamlike.
As Freya was helped out of the car, the first thing she saw was Chloe clinging to Francis's arm, beaming.
She looked around. The park was empty except for staff.
"Miss Gilbert," Chloe said sweetly, "I'm here to apologize for my rude behavior at the wedding the other day. To show my sincerity, I personally designed this makeup ceremony. Do you like it?"
So that was it. That's why she'd been dragged here against her will.
"Francis, I'm not marrying you. Marry whoever you want. I have things to do. Enjoy yourselves."
But Chloe's hand shot out faster than Freya could move.
"Miss Gilbert, I've always been the one people fawn over. You're being rather rude, don't you think?"
Francis frowned, his voice low and final. "Freya, that's enough."
"Miss Swanson went to all this trouble for you. You should be grateful."
In Francis's mind, everything Freya said was just anger talking. As far as he was concerned, she had been his wife since they were five years old.
The wedding was just a formality.
Freya tried to shake off Chloe's grip, but she had no strength left.
"Miss Gilbert, I hired a professional photographer to take wedding photos of you and Francis. I read online that roller coasters make for the best shots."
Freya's pupils contracted. She had a severe fear of heights.
But Chloe gave her no chance to refuse, dragging her onto the roller coaster.
Four seats. Francis sat in the middle.
Freya kept her eyes shut the entire ride. Every sound around her seemed amplified a hundredfold.
"Francis! If there's a next life, you have to wait for me!"
"Francis, I know you agreed to let me design this wedding as your way of making it up to me—giving me a wedding of my own. Thank you!"
Francis's voice, thick with emotion, drifted into her ears. "I'm sorry this is the only way I can give you what you want."
So that was it. This so-called makeup wedding was just to fulfill Chloe's fantasy of marrying him.
Freya's chest tightened until she could barely breathe.
In that moment, she felt like the villain—the one tearing two lovebirds apart.
Suddenly, the car shook violently. The next second, it derailed, sparks flying from the friction.
The violent drop made Freya's heart leap into her throat.
The car crashed to the ground. In the split second before the pain hit, Freya saw Francis shielding Chloe beneath him.
How fitting.
第4章
When Freya woke in the hospital, she tried to move her hand and discovered her arm was broken.
Outside the window, the sky blazed with the red glow of sunset.
Freya pushed back the covers. She had to see her master today.
She had just gotten out of bed when Francis pushed open the door and walked in.
"Freya, why are you out of bed?"
He moved to help her, but she stepped aside to avoid him.
Francis froze for a second or two.
Anyone else in the world could dodge him—anyone except Freya.
Irritation flared in his chest. He set down the bowl of congee he was carrying.
"The situation was urgent. Miss Swanson has been pampered her whole life—if she'd fallen, it would have been serious—"
Freya cut him off sharply. "And what about me?"
"Francis, I only know a little martial arts. I'm not made of iron. I feel pain too. I get hurt too."
Her heart ached as if it had been soaked in lemon juice.
Francis's pupils trembled. He opened his mouth but found he had nothing to say.
"Why are you in such a hurry to leave the hospital? Where are you going?"
Freya thought of how often her master mentioned Francis, so she didn't hide it.
"To the countryside to see my master."
Perhaps remembering childhood memories, the corner of Francis's lips curved slightly.
"I'll go with you."
By the time Francis pulled the car out of the underground garage, there was someone else in the passenger seat.
Chloe Swanson's crimson lips looked especially striking against the evening glow.
"Miss Gilbert, I've never been to the countryside before, so I begged Francis to take me along. You don't mind, do you?"
Freya just wanted to leave as soon as possible tomorrow.
She had no desire to get tangled up in whatever was going on between Chloe and Francis.
"Let's go."
The country roads were rough and uneven. Chloe complained the entire way.
When the car finally stopped in front of an iron gate, Chloe shoved open the door and bent over, dry heaving.
Seeing this, Francis went straight inside to get water from the master.
As Freya moved to follow, Chloe called out to her.
"I held it in the whole ride, but now I finally have a chance to say it. Freya Gilbert, you and your master really are cut from the same cloth—one of you has a lowly status, and the other lives in a lowly place."
"Such a nice car, wasted on roads like these."
"You understand what I mean, don't you, Freya?"
Freya stopped dead in her tracks. She would not allow anyone to insult her master.
But a martial artist must have a broad heart. Besides, they were right outside her master's home—if she hit someone here, he would be disappointed in her.
The instant Freya clenched her fists and turned around, she heard Chloe let out a sudden shriek and collapse to the ground.
A second later, Francis appeared from behind. His face went pale with alarm as he rushed toward Chloe, slamming hard into Freya's broken right arm.
The searing pain made Freya's brow furrow deeply.
"Francis, I only wanted to ask Miss Gilbert where the bathroom was, and she made a face at me and pushed me..."
Francis's expression turned dark instantly.
He carefully helped Chloe up from the ground.
"Freya. Apologize."
If Francis had just looked closely, he would have seen there wasn't a single mark on Chloe. The whole thing was an act she'd staged herself.
Freya laughed in disbelief. Just how much did he care about this woman to defend her unconditionally?
Freya rolled her ankle. "I'll apologize for something I've actually done."
She kicked swiftly toward Chloe's lower back—but the blow landed on Francis's back instead.
"It's okay, Chloe. I'm here. She won't hurt you."
Freya's heart felt like someone had ripped a chunk of flesh right out of it.
Francis had been sickly and weak since childhood, bullied openly and in secret by the other wealthy sons of Capital City.
It was her—every single time—who charged out to stand up for him.
And now the person she had protected with everything she had was willingly taking a hit for another woman.
Eighteen years of devotion, thrown to the dogs.
Freya's eyes reddened. Only when she heard her master calling her name did she manage to regain some composure.
第5章
Cornelius knew she was coming and had prepared a lavish dinner.
When they were children, she and Francis had been sent to the countryside to toughen up. Cornelius not only taught them martial arts but also took them fishing in the river and weeding in the fields.
So many beautiful childhood memories were tied to him.
After dinner, Chloe claimed the best guest room first.
It was the one Cornelius had prepared for Freya.
"It's fine, Master. It's getting late—you should rest. The three of us can sort out the rooms ourselves."
Cornelius had always kept a regular schedule. With a warm smile, he bid them goodnight and retired to his room.
Freya grabbed Chloe and pulled her out of the guest room. "Miss Swanson, there are no extra rooms. You can share with Francis."
Chloe's expression stiffened, but then something seemed to occur to her and she smiled. "Sure. Sweet dreams, Miss Gilbert."
Francis's face tensed. Freya was actually making Chloe share a room with him? Wasn't she jealous?
Or was this her way of expressing displeasure?
"Come on."
In the end, Francis asked nothing and let Chloe lead him away.
Night fell.
Freya had just drifted off to sleep when a piercing scream shattered the silence.
"Help! Someone help me! Don't rape me!"
Freya rushed out of her room to find Cornelius standing in the courtyard, his face utterly bewildered under the moonlight.
Chloe stood with her hands pressed to her chest, looking every bit the violated victim.
The moment she spotted Freya, Chloe latched onto her like a lifeline.
"Miss Gilbert, your master tried to rape me! I just came out to use the bathroom, and the moment he saw me, he started groping me!"
Freya knew her master. He would never do such a thing.
Francis's face darkened like a storm cloud. He draped his suit jacket over Chloe's shoulders and fixed Cornelius with an icy stare.
"Master, I never imagined a man your age still couldn't control himself!"
Cornelius's face flushed crimson. He stood rigid with indignation. "I did no such thing! This girl saw me and suddenly started screaming. I was wondering if she had some kind of mental illness!"
"Francis, you know exactly what kind of man he is. How can you not see through this?"
Never in his life had Cornelius been slandered like this. He turned to Freya. "Freya, you believe me."
Freya stepped in front of him, shielding him without hesitation.
"Chloe, how many times are you going to pull this self-directed little act before you're satisfied?"
Chloe looked as though she'd suffered the greatest injustice imaginable, her voice tearing through the night. "The Swanson family isn't one to be trifled with! If I want, I can make sure your master rots in prison for the rest of his life!"
Freya was livid. "You wouldn't dare!"
Chloe raised an eyebrow. "If you want this to go away, then cripple your master's martial arts skills. Otherwise, I'm sending him to prison!"
Francis glanced at Freya and Cornelius, his expression conflicted.
He swept Chloe up in his arms. Moonlight cast a silver sheen over his tall silhouette.
"I've already called in people from another martial arts school. Master Cornelius owes Miss Swanson an explanation for tonight!"
The sound of hurried footsteps approached.
Francis's voice rang out, cold and commanding. "Whoever cripples Master Cornelius's martial arts skills gets five million dollars!"
"Francis! Has your conscience been eaten by dogs?!"
The only answer Freya received was his retreating back.
Dozens of men in black martial arts uniforms swarmed forward. Freya had no choice but to fight.
Within minutes, she had taken over a dozen blows. The pain made her gasp.
But when she saw them surrounding Cornelius on the ground, kicking and punching him, even pulling out knives to sever his tendons, she forgot her own pain. She grabbed an iron rod and threw herself into the fray like a woman possessed.
Even the most vicious thugs feared someone willing to die fighting.
They had no choice but to give up and leave in frustration.
With trembling hands, Freya called an ambulance and the police.
Looking at Cornelius lying unconscious, she broke down and wept.
If she hadn't insisted on visiting him, if she hadn't said too much, he would never have suffered this disaster!
The next day, Cornelius slowly regained consciousness.
Freya rushed to his side. "Master, does anything still hurt?"
He reached up and gently stroked her hair. "Freya, you've almost surpassed your master now."
Her eyes grew wet. She tilted her head back, fighting to keep the tears from falling.
"Master, I'm leaving Capital City. I didn't marry Francis."
"I've chosen someone else—someone who loves me deeply."
Cornelius seemed to have expected this. He smiled softly. "No matter who you marry, the most important thing is your own happiness."
"Freya, it really is time for you to see the world."
第6章
Before Freya could say a word, Francis stormed in with a dark expression, the air around him radiating cold fury.
"Freya! Did you leak this to the internet?"
Freya rose to her feet, instinctively positioning herself between him and the hospital bed.
"Francis, let's talk outside."
In the corridor, Francis's eyes were as dark as ink.
There was a time when he looked at her with an unspoken dependence, subtle but always present.
She couldn't pinpoint when that had changed—when his gaze had turned to nothing but cold indifference.
Not that it mattered anymore.
"What did you want to say to me?"
Francis faltered at the question. He had expected her to mock him, to be defiant.
He hadn't expected her to be this calm.
Something sharp twisted in his chest.
His voice softened without him realizing it. "Freya, I was impulsive—I'll admit that. But you should never have exposed this online. I can handle the backlash, but Chloe can't."
"She's fragile. When she saw the comments today, she tried to kill herself."
"To control the narrative, you need to record a video clearing this up!"
Freya couldn't believe what she was hearing. He wanted her to publicly declare that her master was a rapist? That would destroy her more than death itself.
"Francis, he was your master too!"
Francis's fingers twitched, but the image of Chloe dragging a razor across her wrist hardened his resolve. "If you won't cooperate, then wait for those photos from when you were eighteen to go public."
Freya's mind went blank. Ice crawled from her feet to the top of her skull, spreading through every limb.
When she was eighteen, she had given herself to Francis as a gift.
The teenage Francis, ears flushed red, had wanted her all night long, as if he could never get enough. Afterward, he suggested they record it.
To capture our first time together, he'd said. It's too special not to remember.
What had once been precious was now a blade aimed at her throat.
"You'd really go that far? Francis, I regret ever giving myself to you."
As Freya brushed past him, he grabbed her wrist.
"Freya..."
She wrenched free, her voice cold as frost. "You're asking me to do something inhuman. Never."
Francis watched her walk away, and something inside him hollowed out.
It's fine, he told himself. He'd already decided—once he smoothed things over with Chloe, he'd cut ties with her for good.
Freya was easier to win back than Chloe anyway. A little sweet-talking, like before, and they'd be back to normal.
That same day, intimate photos of Freya shot to the top of the trending searches.
The online mob pivoted from Chloe to Freya in an instant.
But strangely, the post stayed up for only thirty seconds before vanishing from every platform.
The name Freya Gilbert was like a pebble tossed into a lake—it sent out a few ripples, then sank to the bottom, never to resurface.
When Freya stepped out of the hospital, she spotted a sleek black Maybach parked by the curb. She hesitated for a moment, then opened the door.
"Thank you."
Kieran stubbed out his cigarette and reached over to pinch her cheek.
"Thanking me? Since when are we that formal?"
Freya lowered her eyes. Didn't he care about what people were saying online?
Kieran seemed to read her mind. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "My only regret is not meeting you sooner. But it doesn't matter now—the rest of your life belongs to me."
"Come on. Let me show you our home."
Freya nodded, resting her head against the window as the scenery blurred past.
Before leaving, she had given Francis one last gift.
She wondered what he'd think when he found out the seven moles on Chloe's back had been tattooed on by hand.
第7章
After the bitter fallout with Freya at the hospital, Francis was so furious that he had someone leak her intimate photos online.
Once that was arranged, he headed to the hotel.
The online backlash had driven Chloe into hiding—she hadn't dared step outside her room.
Francis arrived with bags full of her favorite foods, and it took considerable coaxing at her door before she finally let him in.
Overnight, Chloe had lost all her usual radiance and confidence.
Her eyes were red-rimmed, like a rain-soaked rose—disheveled, yet somehow more beautiful for it.
"She still won't record a video clearing my name?"
Her voice was thick with congestion. Francis frowned, noticed the phone clutched in her hand, and immediately snatched it away.
"I'm holding onto this for today."
"Leave everything to me."
Chloe was silent for a long moment. She looked at Francis's refined, handsome face, and felt her heart soften despite herself.
Suddenly, she didn't care about the online attacks anymore—the accusations of being a homewrecker, a scheming seductress, a manipulative snake.
None of it mattered.
As long as Francis didn't believe those things. As long as he stood by her unconditionally. That was enough.
Chloe grabbed his tie and yanked him down, rising on her toes to press her lips against his.
Francis's body went rigid. Freya's face flashed unbidden through his mind, but the soft warmth against his lips made it impossible to push her away.
Chloe's hands wandered, stoking flames. Francis's pupils trembled as heat pooled low in his abdomen.
He gripped the back of her head and seized control.
Time lost meaning. Only when Chloe was gasping for air did he finally release her.
The temperature in the room climbed steadily, desire hanging thick in the air between their ragged breaths.
Chloe suddenly smiled, her beauty blazing like a rose finally touched by sunlight. "Do you know, Francis? I fell for you a long, long time ago."
"So... let me truly have you. Just once."
She undid his shirt buttons with deliberate slowness, her intention unmistakable.
Francis felt as if a feather were brushing against his heart—a maddening tickle that stripped away his reason.
His hands found her waist, and he bent to claim her lips again.
From the bedroom came the sound of tearing fabric and a muffled gasp.
There was no stopping after that.
Lost in passion, Francis kissed the seven crimson birthmarks on Chloe's back.
His voice came out hoarse and strained: "Your waist is so impossibly slender..."
Three hours later, it was over.
Francis carried Chloe to the bathroom and cleaned them both up.
Toweling his damp hair with one hand, he picked up his phone with the other to check his messages.
He'd silenced it to fully immerse himself in their encounter.
When he opened it, he found over a dozen messages from Freya.
His fingers froze.
For reasons he couldn't explain, panic stirred in his chest.
Francis glanced back at Chloe, already exhausted and asleep. He dressed quietly and left a note on the nightstand.
"These past few days, we've done everything we should and shouldn't have. Let's end it here."
Deep down, Freya had always meant far more to him than Chloe ever could.
He opened Freya's message thread.
But when he saw what was inside, he stopped dead in his tracks.
There were photos of Chloe at a tattoo parlor.
And a video—Chloe talking to that so-called Prophet from three years ago.
A terrible suspicion took shape in his mind.
He'd been played by Chloe this whole time?!
Before he could process this, his father's call came through.
"Get a pair of jade bracelets ready—fifty million dollars' worth. A wedding gift for Freya."
"In ten days, you're coming with me to her wedding."
Francis thought he must have misheard. He suppressed the panic rising in his chest. "Father, what are you talking about? Freya and I haven't even officially registered our marriage yet. The wedding last time may have been ruined, but it let everyone in the Capital know how I feel about her. There's no way she would marry someone else!"
Francis found the whole thing utterly absurd.
But his father's next words, spoken with genuine surprise, made his heart lurch. "Freya didn't tell you she's marrying Kieran James?"
Francis's mind went completely blank! He froze on the spot!