Chapter 38
The moment my words fell, Walter's face completely transformed from flushed red to dark and gloomy.
He shot up from his seat, his chair scraping backward with a harsh, grating noise from his violent movement.
He didn't even glance at Freya. The last trace of hesitation and struggle in his eyes had vanished completely, replaced only by the rage of being made a fool and utter disgust.
"Fine. Just fine." He forced out a few words through clenched teeth, as if talking to himself.
He must have finally figured it out—the pure and innocent beauty he'd been so thrilled to marry was nothing but a secondhand goods full of lies who coveted other people's property.
This engagement had been one giant joke from start to finish.
He grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair, the wind from his movement even messing up Freya's carefully styled hair.
"You'll never set foot in the Wood family's door for as long as you live." He left this cold verdict and strode out of the private room without looking back.
The door slammed shut heavily, cutting off everything outside and completely shattering all of Freya's fantasies and pretenses.
She sat there in a daze, as if her soul had been sucked out. A few seconds later, she whipped her head around. Those eyes that had just been brimming with tears now burst with snake-like hatred, glaring at me.
"Ophelia!" she shrieked, her voice hoarse and shrill, with none of her usual gentle sweetness. "You bitch! Why did you do this? Why did you have to destroy everything I had?"
Like a madwoman, she lunged at me, trying to scratch my face.
I leaned back slightly, easily dodging her clumsy attack.
The bodyguard I'd brought immediately stepped forward, calmly positioning himself between us like an insurmountable wall.
"Destroy you?" I picked up the untouched glass of sake in front of me, gently swirling it, watching the clear liquid ripple in the glass. A mocking smile curved my lips. "Freya, from beginning to end, you've been the one grabbing things that don't belong to you. Whether it's men or my mother's belongings."
"You're lying!" Blocked by the bodyguard, she could only roar at me hysterically. "Michael loves me! You just weren't good enough to keep him! You were stupid enough to give me that jewelry yourself!"
"Is that so?" I set down the glass and raised my eyes, meeting her crazed gaze with an icy stare. "Since you put it that way, I don't mind letting everyone judge for themselves."
I took out my phone and deliberately opened my photo album, enlarging that intimate photo of her and Michael at the County Clerk's Office, waving it in front of her.
"Tell me, if I send this photo, along with a scanned copy of your marriage certificate, to Walter's father, and then to all the notable media outlets and families in high society, what do you think everyone will say about you?"
Freya's pupils contracted sharply. She stared at my phone as if seeing her worst nightmare. Her roaring stopped abruptly, and her whole body began trembling uncontrollably.
I put away my phone, my voice light but carrying an undeniable commanding tone. "My mother's ruby jewelry set—not a single piece can be missing. I'm giving you one hour. If I don't see everything at the Johnson Villa in one hour, then tomorrow morning, the entire high society will receive an 'engagement gift' from me."
I paused, looking at her paper-white face, and delivered the final blow: "When that happens, forget the Wood family—even junk collectors won't want you."
This sentence became the final straw that broke her.
The hatred and madness in Freya's eyes instantly collapsed, replaced by boundless despair and fear.
She knew I meant what I said. All her scheming, all her calculations, were pathetically fragile in the face of my absolute rationality and concrete evidence.
She completely broke down, collapsing to the floor in wailing sobs, her makeup a complete mess, utterly pathetic.
Halfway through her crying, she seemed to suddenly remember something and scrambled out of the private room on all fours.
"Walter! Walter, let me explain! It's not like that!"
She ran after her last sliver of hope, crying and shouting, her retreating figure as panicked as a stray dog.
I sat quietly in place until her wailing completely disappeared at the end of the corridor.
I picked up a piece of glistening Arctic surf clam and slowly put it in my mouth. It was cool and sweet.
This meal hadn't been a waste after all.
I paid the bill and walked out of the restaurant with composure.
The evening breeze was cool, clearing my head even more.
As soon as I reached the entrance, I saw the final act of a drama playing out by the roadside not far away.
A white Maserati sports car let out an impatient roar, then sped away without mercy, leaving Freya with a face full of exhaust fumes.
Freya staggered after it for a few steps before finally collapsing powerlessly by the roadside, her expensive dress hem picking up dirty dust. She hugged her knees and cried her heart out on the busy street, drawing countless stares from passersby.
Walter had completely abandoned her.
I watched this scene expressionlessly, feeling no sympathy whatsoever.
She brought this on herself.
I took out my phone and called one of my bodyguards.
"Bring her along." My voice was cold. "Take her to the Johnson Villa and make her hand over the items."
A crisp "Yes" came from the other end.
Soon, a black business van silently pulled up beside Freya.
Two tall bodyguards in black got out and, ignoring her struggles and cries, lifted her from both sides and half-forced her into the car.
I stood in the shadows by the restaurant entrance, quietly watching the car drive toward the Johnson Villa.
As night deepened, I took out the jewelry box, opened it, and fastened the dazzling diamond bracelet around my own wrist.
The diamonds refracted delicate, mesmerizing light under the streetlamps.
Freya, this is just the beginning. I haven't finished giving you your engagement gift yet.