NovelGoldChapter 424:
Kristian turned to Freya and gave her a quiet nod, signaling that it was safe to enter.
Freya stepped into the room, and the moment Alan saw her, he charged at her and pulled her into a tight hug.
“Mina! Thank God you're okay! | was terrified he'd killed you!”
Both Freya and Kristian stood in silence, caught off guard by the bizarre display.
“I've already made peace with him,” Freya said, humoring Alan’s drunken delusions, her voice calm and flat.
“Now sit down. I'll whip up something to flush the poison out of your system.”
“Okay,” Alan mumbled. He shuffled to the couch, slumped over, and promptly passed out.
Freya frowned.
Just as she was about to prepare shoney water, her eyes landed on a shattered phone lying on the floor.
Her mind went into a spin. “Is that your phone?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Kristian said with a shrug, his voice devoid of emotion.
Freya made a silent vow to get her cousin off alcohol for good. He was nothing but a walking disaster.
“I might need a favor from you later,” Kristian said, his eyes on Freya, his voice unusually gentle.
Still feeling guilty over everything, Freya nodded. “What is it?”
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“There were simportant files on my phone—ones | didn’t back up. Now that it's broken, I'll need your help
transferring them to a new one,” he explained.
“That's the least | can do,” Freya replied.
Kristian didn’t add anything else. Freya took a cup from the kitchen, filled it halfway with hot water, and added a
generous swirl of honey.
As she moved through the space, she surveyed the full extent of the damage.
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The living room, the master bedroom, even the guest room—each looked like a war zone. Only the kitchen and
the study, which was locked, had been spared.
Ten minutes later, she finally got Alan to drink the honey water. Kristian helped her with quiet, steady
movements, his patience almost startling.
Something about the way he acted stirred up a strange, nostalgic feeling in Freya, like she'd been transported
back to the early days of their marriage. Back then, things had been warm and easy between them—no
arguments, just quiet happiness.
She set the cup aside and let Alan sleep where he was.
“Ill start cleaning,” she said, unable to take the chaos any longer. Her cousin had made the mess. It only made
sense for her to deal with it.
But as she stood, Kristian gently reached out and took her wrist. His hand was warm, his touch light—but it sent
a faint tremor through her chest.
Freya was just about to pull away when Kristian spoke. “Hold off on that for a second. There's something | need
to talk to you about.”
Facing the gentle Kristian, Freya couldn't bring herself to get angry or confront him outright.
She slowly withdrew her hand and sank down beside him. “Go ahead,” she murmured.
Kristian’s lips pressed into a hard line.
His deep, shadowed eyes stayed
locked on Freya, {asene each Word
OR head, detérn ed not to say
anything that might push her away.
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“Didn’t you have something to say?” Freya asked, her lips parting just slightly when she noticed his silence.
“It's nothing.” Kristian lingered in
hesitation, unable to bring fimpsetfito
speak. Altes ajland Pabse; he finally
stodd up from the sofa and said,
“You take care of him. I'll clean up.”
“I'll handle it. He's my cousin—his
mess, my. rep) Freya m
spd sea) ething off about
hirh but choosing not to press. The
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