Arnold sat alone in his office as he tapped the green call icon.
It rang once. Twice. Thrice.
And then—Voicemail.
He stared for a while at the screen:
Freya.
He tried again. This time, the call didn't even ring before it was declined.
His hand dropped to the desk.
"Freya… damn it." He muttered under his breath.
At the other end of the line, Freya sat on her bed, phone in hand, screen still lit with Arnold Calling.
She stared at it for a long time then she turned it face down on the blanket.
Not now.
Not yet.
Arnold stepped out of the building just past 9 p.m., the sharp wind tugging at his coat as if trying to pull him back.
Rachel spotted him instantly. "Sir, Henry's waiting with the car—"
"Tell him I won't need it," Arnold interrupted without breaking stride. "I'll go alone."
"Alone? Mr. Connor, it's not safe, especially with everything..."
He turned and gave her a warm, broken look.
"I need to do this myself."
She hesitated, then nodded. "Call whenever you need us sir."
He didn't answer.
He walked towards another car with his head slightly lowered and hands buried in his coat pocket.
The streets buzzed with nightlife as he drove on, but he barely noticed. His thoughts were already at her door.
By the time he reached her apartment, the doorman recognized him immediately.
He didn't question his presence. He simply opened the gate and stepped aside.
Arnold didn't announce himself when he got to her door. Didn't knock loudly. Just pressed the bell once and waited.
Inside, Freya had just made tea. The TV hummed low in the background, but her mind was elsewhere.
At the sound of the bell, she froze. Laura had gone home earlier. She wasn't expecting anyone.
She peered through the peephole, and her breath caught.
Arnold.
Alone.
No black SUV. No guards. No walls.
Just him.
She didn't open the door right away. But somehow… he knew she was watching.
His voice came through softly.
"Please, Freya. Just five minutes."
Her fingers hovered at the lock.
Then, slowly… she turned the knob.
She didn't step aside. She leaned against the doorframe, arms folded
"Well, this is unexpected," she said, her expression carved in cool sarcasm. "Shouldn't a man with a fiancée be… elsewhere? Preferably not at the door of a woman he claims to have no ties with?"
Arnold's jaw tightened. "Freya—"
"No," she interrupted, standing straighter. "You don't get to say my name like that. Not like we're close or anything."
The hallway light caught the faint circles under his eyes, revealing his exhaustion. He didn't look like the unshakeable billionaire the world saw. Tonight, he looked like a man… weighed down.
"I had no choice," he said finally. "I had to make the press back off."
"And so the noble solution was to lie about my identity and publicly declare your love for another woman?" she scoffed, raising a brow.
"Don't twist it," he said, stepping closer. "You were under siege. I saw the reports. You couldn't even buy eggs, Freya. I couldn't stand it."
"Oh," she said, "so I'm the damsel now? Was this you rescuing me? From a situation you helped create?"
That silenced him.
She waited. "Well? Are you going to tell me I'm overreacting?"
He looked down. "No. You're right."
That disarmed her more than an argument would have.
"I didn't come here to defend myself," Arnold said quietly. "I came because I couldn't sleep. I couldn't think. I needed to know if you hated me."
"You're worried about me hating you?" Freya gave a bitter laugh. "Shouldn't you be worried about your fiancee discovering you're at another woman's apartment by this time of the night?"
"That's not true, Freya. I just said it to protect you."
"Liar," she snapped. "You said it to protect your empire. Your image. Your perfect goddamn surname."
He didn't deny it.
"I didn't plan for this to happen," he said quietly. "I didn't plan for you to walk into my life and make it impossible to go back to the way things were."
Her pulse jumped, but she kept her face neutral.
"I keep thinking about you," he said. "Even when I'm in those meetings, with all those sharks. I can't stop picturing the look on your face when you saw the news. I hated myself for it."
Freya's throat felt tight. She turned away, walking into the room to put space between them. He followed silently, but she didn't stop him.
"I don't need your guilt," she said finally. "I needed your honesty. From the start."
"I was trying to protect you."
"No. You were trying to control the outcome."
They stood in heavy silence. The only sound was the clock ticking above the fridge.
After a moment, she whispered, "So it isn't true? What you said about Ariel being your fiancée?"
He looked pained. "No."
"But you let the world believe it."
"It was the only way to make them stop coming after you."
"You think I wanted that?" she said, turning sharply. "To be erased? To have everything we shared—however brief—reduced to a mistake you corrected with a lie?"
Arnold stepped closer. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I just know I can't lose you."
The words hung in the air.
Freya looked at him for a long time. Her eyes were damp, but she didn't blink.
"I don't love her." He said.
"But you chose her. Publicly."
"I chose you in every moment that mattered. The press conference wasn't about love. It was damage control."
She was quiet, breathing heavily.
"I just…" She rubbed her temples. "I need time."
He nodded. "I'll give it to you. But I'm not walking away."
Freya shook her head slowly. "You already did."
Arnold took one more step forward. "I love you, Freya. Even if you hate me right now."
She froze. It was the first time he was telling her that. She looked away as tears filled her eyes.
"I don't hate you," she whispered. "I just don't know how to trust you."
He reached for her hand, brushing her fingers lightly. And for a moment, neither moved.
Then, he leaned in slowly, forehead barely grazing hers. Her breath hitched when their noses almost touched.
The warmth of his lips hovered just above hers, and the air was charged with everything they weren't saying.
She leaned in—only an inch. But that inch was enough.
.
Almost.
Freya pulled back just before they could kiss. "Don't," she breathed. "Not yet."
Arnold sighed and nodded once, stepping away.
"I'm tired," she said. "You should go."
He didn't argue. Just looked at her like the rarest artifact in the whole world.
"I'll wait, Freya. However long it takes."
Then he walked out, quietly shutting the door behind him.