Chapter 119

Freya and Ronan’s close interactions didn’t go unnoticed by Pieran. An angry and deep voice reached Freya’s ears. Turning around, Freya locked eyes with Kieran, who approached with a storm brewing on his face.

“Looks like you’re in for it now,” Ronan quipped, his voice cold as the autumn breeze.

Freya raised her voice and retorted, “Cool it, Mr. Beckett. If I’m going down, you won’t be having a picnic either.”

At that, a slight smirk danced on Ronan’s lips, a hint of amusement in his eyes. As Kieran reached Freya, his eyes landed on the necklace she had just won at the auction, right there in her hands.

“Mr. Beckett sure knows how to splash out, spending a whopping 150 million dollars on a necklace for you,” Kieran sneered.

“It’s no big deal,” Freya responded, lifting the necklace. “I noticed Mr. Sutton eyeing this piece, too. Were you planning to gift it to Ms. Harwood, perhaps?”

Her words turned the temperature around them colder. “Don’t play dumb.”

It was clear to Kieran that Freya knew Eloise had her heart set on that necklace and had deliberately outbid him. Such tactics—despicable!

Freya countered, “Mr. Sutton, this is an auction. The highest bidder wins. It was Mr. Beckett’s choice to gift me this necklace, right? There’s no need to take it out on me.”

Watching Kieran’s expression darken further, a sense of satisfaction washed over Freya. In her past life, Kieran had trampled on her dignity and embarrassed her on countless occasions. This time, she relished the chance to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Turning to Ronan, Freya said with intention, “Ronan, thanks for the necklace. I love it. I’ve got to run now.” With that, Freya walked off in the opposite direction of the hall. Before she left, she deliberately bumped into Kieran’s shoulder, a provocation that fueled his rage.

“Freya Dawson!”

“You don’t need to see me out!” Freya called back nonchalantly, her graceful demeanor and confident stride as if declaring Kieran’s defeat.

Soon after, Freya returned to her seat and handed the necklace to Preston, saying, “Mr. Tyler, here’s the necklace you wanted.” Preston inspected the necklace in his possession. Its $150 million price tag added an extra layer of allure.

“Not bad,” Preston remarked indifferently. “Ms. Dawson, you’re very committed.”

“Are you interested in striking a deal?”

“Someone will visit the Dawson Group on my behalf in a few days.”

“Mr. Tyler, I’m offering, not the Dawson Group,” Freya clarified.

At her words, Preston raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh?”

Freya placed her business card in Preston’s hand and added, “If you’re interested, call me anytime.”

After telling Preston to have a good evening, Freya skedaddled out of there. Preston glanced at Freya’s business card while Hans, standing beside him, suggested cautiously, “Mr. Tyler, Ms. Dawson seems to have anticipated your moves. Her actions are suspicious. Should we…”

Hans mimed a cutting gesture.

Without a word, Preston pulled out a lighter and set Freya’s business card ablaze.

“Mr. Tyler?”