Chapter 11

Inside the trash folder were several emails from his business partners, sent last night while he’d been too “busy” to check his phone. Only one person had touched his phone last night: Mia. Anger bubbled up inside him. Mia knew nothing about business yet had casually deleted work emails that could tank his company. Losing this deal would cost Whitemore Inc. at least 10% in quarterly profits! And what about the crucial meeting? Freya would normally have everything prepped by morning, even with minimal notice. If she hadn’t decided to play games, they wouldn’t have lost this partnership so easily.

He dialed Freya’s number, ready to rip into her, but got nothing. No matter how many times he called, he hit the same voicemail greeting. A flutter of panic hit him. Something clicked, and he checked the trash folder again, finding Freya’s message from last night. He tapped “restore,” and the text appeared, stinging worse than he expected:

[Eight years loving you in silence. Four years pretending it was enough. This is the end of the line. Mr. Whitemore, I’m no longer your assistant. I no longer have feelings for you. We’re just two strangers now. In this lifetime, let’s never cross paths again.]

He should feel relieved that Freya finally stopped loving him. Just like he’d told her—she wasn’t hanging all her hopes on him anymore. But facing her departure, he felt a strange tightness in his chest, like he’d lost something irreplaceable. His mind drifted back through their history. Four years ago, one drugged night had landed them in bed together. Back then, his heart belonged entirely to Mia. He’d only wanted to throw money at his sister’s friend and forget it ever happened. But Freya’s eyes were so bright yet cautious, like a wounded animal, and he couldn’t bring himself to shut her down completely, so he let things unfold. They’d left their mark everywhere—his office, his car, his penthouse. For four years, she was his perfect assistant and ideal lover, never demanding anything, silently accepting whatever scraps he offered. Even without a title or commitment, she seemed genuinely happy. Jasper had thought countless times that Freya was an idiot, giving everything for the smallest crumbs of affection. He’d warned her not to imagine a future with him—he would only ever belong to Mia.

Now he’d gotten his wish and cut loose this complication. So why wasn’t he celebrating? He stared at the message for a long time before finally forcing himself to let it go. If Freya was gone, so be it. This was how things should be. He set down his phone, turned away from it, and held Mia closer as he drifted back to sleep.

To suppress the uncomfortable feeling in his chest, he pushed off work for several more days to be with Mia. Whatever designer handbag or diamond earrings caught her eye, he swiped his card without blinking. But the more he indulged her, the more restless he felt, an irritation festering beneath the surface. Mia didn’t notice, completely absorbed in their impromptu vacation.

While waiting for her outside yet another boutique, Jasper found himself opening his chat with Freya. Their last exchange was a month ago—he hadn’t messaged her since Mia’s return. An impulse surged through him. His fingers slowly typed:

[You can always come back as my assistant.]

His pathetic olive branch was met with a glaring red exclamation mark—message undeliverable. For the first time in all these years, Freya had actually blocked him. Jasper’s hand shook slightly as he stared at the screen until Mia returned.

“Sorry I took forever. Can we go see the northern lights tomorrow?” she asked, wearing a stunning new dress, hanging on his arm.

He darkened his phone, showing no outward sign of distress, but found himself completely unmoved by her beauty.

“I need to get back to the office tomorrow. It’s been too long, and shit’s piling up. Let me handle that first, then we can go wherever, okay?”

As CEO, he had major decisions and meetings waiting. Taking these past few days off had already been a stretch. His company was hemorrhaging money while he catered to Mia’s every whim.

Her brow furrowed, clearly annoyed, but she just pouted.

“Fine, but I’m coming with you. I’ll help you out, babe.”

Mia’s smile sweetened his mood a bit, momentarily pushing thoughts of Freya away.

Chapter 17

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