MainNovelChapter 688:
She stood frozen, her phone clutched in her hand, thoughts spinning in a fog. No matter how hard she tried, she
couldn't make sense of it—why would Kristian suddenly cut her off like this? Was he trying to spare her pain?
“Ms. Briggs, | know this probably isn’t what you want to hear,” Lawrence said carefully, his voice edged with a
hint of caution. “But Kristian is the president of Shaw Group—admired, envied, chased after by more people than
| can count. He chased you for months, and you never gave him the tof day. That kind of rejection—it
stings.”
He added, “I'm not totally in the dark about your situation. He left you for someone else, and things between you
turned ugly after that. But believe it or not, there was never a mistress. And he’s already risked his life trying to
make things right. Or do you expect him to spend the rest of his life making amends?”
“No,” Freya murmured softly.
“Then why won't you let him go?” Lawrence snapped. “He’s already made amends. He tried to fix your
relationship, and you turned him away. Now, just like you said you wanted, you're strangers. But you still insist
on seeing him—don’t you think that’s crossing a line?”
He was right.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtFreya answered him in her mind.
But still, something in her gut told her it wasn’t as cut-and-dry as Lawrence made it seem.
“If you really need to hear it from him to finally let go, then fine,” Lawrence said, recognizing her unwillingness
to back down. He pulled out his phone.
Freya's eyes shifted toward it.
Her palms had gone slick with sweat, and she gripped her phone like it might anchor her, her body taut with
tension.
“Good thing | cprepared,” Lawrence said, tapping the screen. “Here's your proof.”
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As soon as he said it, a recording began to play.
“Please tell Freya that I've already repaid what | owed her. From now on, we're like strangers—no more contact,
no more interference.” Kristian’s voice was faint, but every syllable was razor-sharp. “I don’t want any more ties
to her. | don’t need her to do anything for me, and | don’t want to owe her anything else. I'm tired. Our
relationship ends here.”
When the recording ended and Freya didn’t respond, Lawrence hit play again.
She stood there, still as stone, listening. Every word seemed to carve into her, cutting deeper with each pass,
leaving her reeling.
After the second playback, Lawrence reached for his phone once more.
“That's enough,” Freya said, her voice steady but low. “I heard him.”
“Not curious to hear it a few more times?” Lawrence asked with a shrug. “What if | faked it?”
But by the second listen, she already knew—it was real.
That was Kristian’s voice. Unfiltered, unchanged.
He had said those words.
The two of them stood in silence,
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Freya couldn't find the words.
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