Chapter 296

When Preston was abroad, he heard through the grapevine that Kieran had a thing for a lady named Eloise. Naturally, curiosity got the better of him. But upon finally meeting Eloise, she seemed ordinary, unremarkable.

And there was Freya. From the moment Preston laid eyes on her, he could tell she was a woman full of mischief and charm. Somehow, Preston found himself inexplicably drawn to her.

It baffled Preston how Freya could tell he had a thing for Eloise, thinking he was head over heels in love with her.

“Don’t overthink it,” Neil said, lifting his glass to pour himself some whisky. “Hans has looked into Freya’s background. She hasn’t left Echo City in over twenty years. She’s not worldly.”

As Neil was about to take a sip, Preston snatched the glass from his hand.

“What the heck?” Neil exclaimed, surprised.

“He’s used it,” Preston replied, leaving Neil speechless.

The morning had broken. Freya had fallen asleep sometime during the night and only woke up around noon. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, gently waking her. She stretched, feeling a slight headache, which Preston had warned her she’d feel.

Knock, knock.

“Come in,” Freya answered when she heard a knock at the door.

Hans entered. “Ms. Dawson, lunch is ready.”

“Got it,” she replied, quickly freshening up before heading downstairs.

Preston and Neil were in the dining room. The table was set with simple yet satisfying dishes. Preston seemed to prefer less greasy food. Each dish had just a hint of meat, and the main course was surprisingly bland—just some rolls. However, there was a small, exquisitely prepared plate of pasta before Freya and Neil.

“Come, sit,” Neil gestured to Freya.

She sat opposite Preston.

The first dish was sautéed mushrooms with rapini, which Freya quite liked. Then came broccoli sautéed with shrimp. Freya was also a fan. They had fried eggs and soup. They were all good.

Seeing Freya enjoying the meal, Neil commented, “Really? Our lady here is fine with these simple dishes?”

“I don’t mind them. I’m not much for greasy food, either,” Freya replied, tasting a bit of each dish.

Neil pushed the broccoli and shrimp to her. “This one, Preston had Hans make it for you.”

“You guys don’t seem to like shrimp much, huh?” Freya observed, recalling Preston and Hans had hardly touched it the night before. “They’re not into seafood,” Neil shrugged.

“Why not?”

“Just a habit,” he replied nonchalantly.

Freya glanced at Preston, who, along with Hans, mostly stuck to the vegetarian options, pairing pickles with rolls as if it were the most natural combo in the world.

Preston enjoyed such simple meals despite his reputation as a big shot overseas.