Chapter 1
Chapter 1
“Freya, Mr. Whitemore signed off on your resignation papers, but he didn’t notice it was you leaving. Want me to let him know?” The HR director’s voice came through the phone, concern evident.
Freya’s eyes lowered as she replied softly, “No need. Just leave it as is.”
“But you’ve been his right hand for four years! He values you more than anyone and totally depends on you. Are you absolutely sure about quitting?”
HR was practically begging, but Freya just offered a small smile.
“Nobody’s irreplaceable in this world. My parents aren’t doing well, and I need to head back home to settle down. Since Mr. Whitemore approved it, I’ll handle the transition. I’ll be gone in a month. Thanks for checking.”
After hanging up, Freya went back to sorting through her things. She’d lived in this penthouse for three years. Not too much stuff, not too little–just keeping essentials and tossing the rest.
As the room emptied, she felt momentarily disoriented, memories washing over her like waves.
Eight years ago, Freya–a small–town girl from a modest family–got into Harvard and became best friends with New York heiress Elena Whitemore.
Despite their completely different backgrounds, they clicked instantly–attending lectures together, grabbing lunch, hitting the shops–practically joined at the hip every day.
Gradually, Elena brought Freya into her world, introduced her to family, and unwittingly, Freya fell hard for Elena’s brother, Jasper. But she buried those feelings deep, never breathing a word to anyone.
After graduation, Elena took off to study in Paris. Freya stayed in New York, landed a job as Jasper’s assistant–all to
be near him.
Then came that night when someone slipped something into Jasper’s drink. Freya was about to call 911 when he pinned her against the wall, his control gone as his mouth claimed hers.
After a night together, she woke to find him by the window, his sharp profile haloed in cigarette smoke, brooding
and distant.
Hearing her stir, he turned. “You’re into me, aren’t you?”
Freya instinctively wanted to deny it, but he continued, his face expressionless.
“You blush whenever I walk in. You know all my likes and dislikes. You jumped at becoming my assistant right after graduation…”
“Don’t tell me that’s all coincidence.”
His words left her face burning, from embarrassment or guilt, she wasn’t sure which.
08:47
No More Layovers for a Love That Won’t Land
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In the heavy silence, he suddenly handed her a card.
“Last night shouldn’t have happened. I’m in love with someone else and can’t return your feelings or take responsibility. Elena mentioned you come from a modest background–there’s enough money on this card to set you up for life. Let’s both forget this ever happened.”
Freya was stunned. Then she remembered he’d repeatedly called out a name in bed: Mia. Mia Carter.
From Elena, Freya knew Mia was Jasper’s unforgettable first love. He was so hung up on her that even after she dumped him and moved abroad, collecting a string of rumored boyfriends, he insisted on waiting for her return.
Freya recalled Elena’s eye–roll: “The Whitemores are known for being cold fish. How did my brother turn into such a hopeless romantic? Waiting all these years, saying everyone else would be ‘settling‘ because he refuses to settle.”
Feeling this in her bones, Freya suddenly found her courage and called after Jasper as he headed for the door.
“I don’t want your money. I just want a chance. Please, just try being with me. If she never comes back or… if she does return but you still can’t move on, I’ll walk away. I promise.”
Faced with her lovesick gaze, Jasper paused for a beat before muttering, “Whatever,” and walking out.
From that day forward, Freya was his assistant by day and his lover by night. They left their mark in his office, his Maybach, against the windows of his penthouse. Four years passed with no one knowing about their arrangement, and she told herself she was happy.
Until his birthday a few days ago. Freya had planned several surprises to celebrate. But as midnight approached, instead of Jasper, she got a notification from his social media–an account he’d never used before.
“Best birthday gift? Getting back what I lost.”
The forever–silent Jasper Whitemore had posted a photo of himself kissing Mia Carter beneath exploding fireworks.
Seeing this, the blood drained from Freya’s face, her chest tightening. With one last desperate hope, she called him.
Mia answered. After saying “hello” several times to silence, she called out: “Jasper, who’s this Freya Kingsley calling you and not saying anything?”
A moment later, his deep, cool voice came through the speaker: “Nobody important. Ignore it. Come back to bed,
babe.”
In that moment, Freya knew her exit cue had arrived.
She packed her things, ready to leave, when she ran into Jasper at the door. Since they’d been sleeping together regularly, Freya had been staying at his place for convenience–but now, she couldn’t stay another night.
Seeing her with her bags, his eyes narrowed slightly, but he made no move to stop her. “Found a place?”
“Yeah, my old apartment. Talked to the landlord–just for a month.”
At this, Jasper frowned. “A month? What for?”
“I and
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Chapter 1
Freya started to explain, but he seemed to lose interest, merely saying, “I’ll drive you.”
She tried to refuse, but he insisted.
“It’s dumping snow out there, and it’s late. If anything happened to you, Elena would kill me.”
Freya reluctantly got into his car. Once, they’d been intimate countless times in this vehicle, but now she barely recognized it. The interior was plastered with cute plushies, Hello Kitty seat covers, and snacks everywhere…
She could hardly imagine this serious, standoffish man transforming his car into something so cutesy.
Noticing her stare, Jasper offered a brief explanation: “Mia’s into this stuff.”
Freya got his meaning and stayed quiet for a long while before responding softly.
“You finally got her back. I’m happy for you, Mr. Whitemore.”
Jasper hadn’t expected that response. His eyes darkened, and he said nothing more.
Halfway to her place, Mia called, wanting to build a snowman with him. He pulled over, clearly eager to go to her, but hesitated when he glanced at Freya.
Understanding his dilemma, Freya opened the door. “I’ll grab a Uber from here, Mr. Whitemore.”
He nodded and got out to help with her stuff. Her hands slipped, and the box crashed to the ground. As he bent down, the streetlight illuminated its spilled contents, freezing him in place.
Love letters addressed to him but never sent, candid photos she’d secretly taken, things he’d tossed that she’d rescued and treasured…
Freya’s heart hammered as she scrambled to gather everything.
“Sorry about that.”
Without a word, Jasper got back in his car and sped away.
Freya waited in the snow for ages but couldn’t get a ride. Trying to lug her box home, she was hit by an electric
scooter.
The collision left a nasty gash on her calf, blood staining the snow. Watching the hit–and–run driver disappear, she gasped with pain, lying in the snow for what felt like forever.
When she could finally move, she limped through the snow for four hours before reaching her apartment.
After patching up her wound, she checked her phone to find a message from Jasper, sent after he’d left:
[Stop being so obsessed with one guy. There are plenty of fish in the sea. Don’t hang all your hopes on me.]
Freya stared at this message for a very long time.
Chapter
Month and doorsairs for wothing and nerved anrything it had inned farrely in here for yo
Chapter 2
Chapter 2
