Chapter 59 59
STEVE POV
I stood by the entrance, my hands shoved deep into my pockets, watching the two people who had somehow become the center of my world. Luna was chattering away, her small hand swallowed by Freya’s as they walked into the house together. Before they disappeared around the corner, Freya paused. She looked back at me, her eyes still a little red but glowing with a warmth I hadn't seen before. I gave her a sharp, brief smile—a silent command for her to go and be with her daughter.
Once they were gone, I looked down at my shoulder. There was a damp patch on my shirt where her face had been buried. I’ve always hated it when she cries. To me, tears usually mean weakness or pain, and I’ve spent my life eliminating both. But as I stared at the spot, a strange thought crossed my mind.
If this is what they call tears of joy, then I can do this more.
I turned to follow them inside, but the vibration in my pocket stopped me. I pulled out my phone. The name on the screen made my jaw tighten. Victor.
I swiped to answer. "Yes."
"Mark is spiraling, Steve," Victor’s voice came through, sounding strained. "He’s misbehaving. He’s been throwing food against the walls, kicking chairs... he’s practically losing his mind in here."
I felt no pity. Only a cold, clinical boredom. "Give the phone to him."
"I just told you he’s losing his mind," Victor snapped. "You really think he’s in the mood to take a phone call?"
"Mention Freya," I said, my voice dropping. "He will calm down and take the phone."
I heard Victor let out a long, heavy breath on the other end. Then came the sounds of movement—the heavy thud of a door opening and the chaotic crashing of furniture. In the background, Mark was screaming, his voice ragged and high-pitched.
"I'll kill everyone!" Mark shrieked. "Let me out of here! I'll kill every single one of you!"
"Someone wants to speak to you," I heard Victor say over the noise.
There was a sudden, violent scuffle. A loud shout from Victor followed—it sounded like Mark had snatched the phone and was about to smash it against the floor.
"Freya!" Victor screamed, his voice booming through the speaker.
The line went quiet instantly. The crashing stopped. The heavy breathing was the only thing left. It worked. The mere mention of her name was the only thing that could still tether that pathetic man to reality.
"Mark," I said into the silence, my voice smooth and dangerous. "I hear you're making a mess."
The silence on the other end was heavy, broken only by Mark’s ragged, uneven breathing. Then, a raspy, bitter laugh came through the speaker.
"Hmm... it’s you. The muscle man," Mark said, his voice dripping with a mix of recognition and hatred.
I reached up and rubbed the back of my head, a small, amused smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. First "Uncle Hulk," now "Muscle Man." It seemed I was collecting a new collection of nicknames these days.
"Where the fuck is my wife?" Mark suddenly screamed, his voice cracking. "How the fuck do you even know my wife? And where is my daughter? What did you do with them?"
Hearing him call Freya his wife sent a sharp jolt of irritation through me. My jaw tightened so hard I felt the bone pop. He was lucky I wasn't standing in that room with him; the only thing saving him from a broken jaw was the distance between us.
"Now, listen to me very carefully," I said, my voice dropping to a tone that usually made grown men tremble. "You have exactly two options. Either I make you quiet, or you choose to be quiet yourself."
"You can't do shit—"
"If I have to be the one to shut you up," I interrupted, "you’ll get exactly two vials of sedative and a dark room until I decide otherwise. But, if you handle yourself like a man and stay quiet on your own... I’ll bring Lila down to see you. And you'll get your money."
There was a long pause. I could almost hear the gears turning in his desperate, fractured mind. The mention of money and Lila—the two things that had fueled his downfall—seemed to hit the mark.
"What about my wife?" Mark asked, his voice sounding smaller, more pathetic.
"Ex-wife," I corrected him sharply, the words cutting like a blade. "And keep your mouth shut. If you behave, I might just let you meet her."
The rage in Mark’s voice drained away, replaced by a hollow, desperate sobriety. The silence stretched for a moment before he spoke again, his voice barely a whisper.
"Is that a promise?" he asked.
"It’s a promise," I replied, my tone icy. "But don’t even think for a second that this is your 'second chance' at anything. You are following my script now. Now, give the phone back to my man."
I heard the muffled sound of the phone being handed over. A second later, Victor was back on the line.
"I have it," Victor said, his voice tight. "That was… effective."
"Forget him for a moment," I said, leaning against the doorframe and looking toward the stairs where Freya had disappeared. "How is the preparation for the party tomorrow?"
"Everything is moving," Victor reported. "Lila is beyond excited. Honestly, Steve, she’s acting like this is more than just a recovery party. She’s dropping hints to everyone that it might end in an engagement. She’s even calling in more media outlets."
I felt a cold, dry amusement settle in my chest. "So, she’s calling the media for a simple recovery party?"
"She loves showing off," Victor sighed. "She wants the world to see her 'triumph' over what happened. She has no idea she’s setting her own stage for a disaster."
And funny she told the media that she survived an Accident….
"Let her," I said. "Just play nice. Give her whatever she needs to feel like she’s in control."
There was a pause on the other end of the line. I could tell Victor was hesitating. It was the kind of silence that usually meant he was about to ask a question I wouldn't like.
"Steve," Victor asked suddenly, his voice turning serious. "Do you think Freya is prepared for this?
I looked up the stairs, thinking of the woman who had just collapsed into my arms, trembling. She was soft, yes, but she had a spine of steel that she hadn't fully realized yet.
"She’s a different woman than the one they remember," I said firmly. "And she won't be walking alone."