Chapter 288

“Wait up!” Freya said. “What do you mean I don’t have to go home? Are you saying I should stay here?”

She couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.

“Is there a problem?” Preston’s tone was indifferent as he glanced at his watch. “Ms. Dawson, take a look at the time. Nobody’s got the time to drive you home.”

“I can make my way back.”

“No cabs allowed at my doorstep.”

Freya frowned. “What kind of rule is that?”

“You know, I’ve made quite a few enemies overseas. If they find out where I live, it could spell trouble. So, please, Ms. Dawson, don’t make things harder for me.”

When Preston said this, Freya could almost see a chilling gleam in his eye, the kind one might have after committing a cold-blooded act.

Freya suddenly found herself at a loss for words. This place was secluded; hardly a soul passed by. It wouldn’t take much effort if Preston wanted her gone.

“I… I can walk out and call a cab,” Freya’s voice was barely a whisper.

Preston raised an eyebrow. “If you’re up for a midnight trek of over a mile, be my guest.”

He made a point of looking at Freya’s injured leg as he said this. If Freya could manage a mile…

Freya asked, “Where will I sleep then?”

“Turn left outside the door and pick any room you like. There’s plenty to choose from.”

With that, Preston casually lit a cigar. Freya wasn’t fond of the smell of smoke, so she quickly grabbed her crutch and left the study. Noticing Freya’s distaste for the cigar, Preston took a single puff and then snuffed it out.

Outside in the hallway, Freya turned left and randomly chose a room. It was bare, almost empty, giving it a spacious feel.

Freya was puzzled. For a two-story villa, it seemed unusually sparsely decorated.

By then, Preston had also left the study. Seeing Freya had chosen the first bedroom on the left, he said, “You’re taking this one?”

“This one will do.” Freya had settled onto the navy blue bedding because she just couldn’t be bothered to move anymore.

The other two rooms were closed, probably occupied by Hans and Neil, leaving her with the room at the back. Her mobility was limited, and this room was conveniently close.

“It’s yours,” Preston said, then turned around and returned to the study.

What did he mean by ‘it’s yours’? Freya frowned in confusion. Preston always said things she couldn’t grasp.