Chapter 56

There was no one around; the streets were empty, and the pharmacy still some distance away. Freya was mentally calculating when she noticed the strong smell of blood in the car. She paused, started the engine, and asked, “Where to?”

“Straight ahead, to Santa Pier,” he replied. “I’ll tell you how to get there.”

“No need, I know the way,” Freya said, and began driving.

She concentrated on driving, and the man didn't speak again, leaving the car quiet. Santa Pier was about half an hour away. Throughout the drive, Freya's expression remained calm, her driving steady and precise. She didn't make a single wrong turn. The man, holding his gun, gradually altered his demeanor toward her, but Freya remained oblivious.

A little while later, the man said, “Park under the banyan tree ahead.”

“Okay,” Freya replied.

The car stopped smoothly beside the road, the man still aiming his gun at her. As he exited the car, she retrieved her bag and calmly began searching through it. “I have some first-aid supplies here.” The smell of blood in the car had grown stronger during the half-hour drive; she knew he was probably injured.

The man paused but didn't respond, instead quickly disappearing into the darkness. Since he had refused her offer, Freya didn't insist. She turned the wheel and drove away.

A few minutes later, the man boarded a waiting boat. He removed his hat and mask. His phone rang, and as someone tended to his injuries, he answered the call. Before he could speak, Levi urgently asked, “Harry, are you alright? My people said they didn’t pick you up. Where are you?”

“There was an accident. I’m already at the pier.”

“That’s good. How did this happen? You scared me half to death!”

After a moment, the call ended. He gazed at the tall tree in the distance, lost in thought.

Freya returned to Jessica's place half an hour later. Jessica had taken her medicine and eaten some porridge. She was feeling a little better but frowned. “Why do I smell blood? Mag, are you hurt?”

“No.”

The man had been injured. When he’d taken her phone and bag, his blood had stained them. She had wiped them clean upon her return, but apparently not thoroughly enough.

The next day, after Jessica fully recovered from her fever, Freya returned home. She still hadn’t prepared a gown for the banquet the following evening.

That afternoon, Freya went out. She arrived at a high-end boutique where the manager and several salespeople were adjusting a gown. They only noticed her as she approached.

“Sorry, miss. How can I help you?” the manager politely asked.

“I’ll just have a look,” Freya replied.

“Of course.”

Though she had married into the Wilson family, Freya hadn’t attended many banquets over the years. Even when Matteo and the others had formal events, they never brought her. Old Madam Wilson had long since withdrawn from the spotlight and no longer cared for such occasions. Freya didn’t have much experience with high-end fashion, but having worked in luxury apparel, Jessica had imparted a basic sense of aesthetics.

The sheer number of beautiful gowns was overwhelming. Freya didn’t intend to be too picky; a decent gown would suffice. As she considered this, she noticed the gown the salespeople had been adjusting. It was a light purple, semi-sheer chiffon gown with a cinched waist, adorned with intricate floral details. The design was exquisite, the model’s neck draped with an elegant, high-end necklace. The gown perfectly combined lightness and luxury. Freya couldn’t help but approach it.

Just as she was about to touch the fabric, the manager suddenly grabbed her hand firmly. Freya winced, frowning in pain. The manager quickly released her.

“Sorry, miss. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s just that this gown is a custom design for our VIP client. There’s only one in the world, and its price is quite high. If anything happens to it, we would be liable…”

Chapter 57