Chapter 363

Freya methodically savored her meal, a mix of comfort foods that were a testament to the cozy American diner they were in. Finally, Preston withdrew his gaze and declared, “So, it turns out, there’s no punchline.”

Hearing this, Freya let out a sigh of relief. She knew Preston loved his drama. Neil chuckled from the side, “Not funny, man. Not funny at all. Preston here loves his dad jokes. Ms. Dawson, please don’t take him seriously.”

“Why would I? It’s all good.”

Freya set down her fork, noting, “Looks like it’s getting late. I should be heading out.”

I quickly stood up, “Leaving so soon? Won’t you stay a bit longer?”

“No, I’ve got an exam tomorrow. Need to get some rest. Thanks for the ointment, Dr. Anderson. I’ll be off then.”

As Freya slipped on her jacket, ready to leave, Preston also put down his utensils, “Let me walk you out.”

“No need.”

“You sure about walking out alone?”

Freya hadn’t driven herself over, and without Preston to lead the way, she’d have trouble finding her way out.

“Well, if you insist, Mr. Tyler.”

Freya wasn’t about to play the coy card. After all, it was Preston who had brought her here, so naturally, he should take the responsibility to see her off.

Stepping outside the Tyler estate, Preston, this time, opened the car door for Freya. Freya thought to herself: He’s quite the gentleman.

Silence filled the car as Preston drove. Freya couldn’t fathom why Preston had insisted on taking her home. Did he suspect she was the elusive Susan from W Group? Impossible.

Chapter 364

Ronan had crafted her identity so meticulously that it would withstand scrutiny for a while. If Kieran couldn’t pierce through her guise, Preston had no chance.

As they approached a fork in the road, Preston suddenly said, “I’m offering you another chance to tell the truth.”

“What?”

Before Freya could grasp the situation, Preston accelerated down the road. Freya felt the car push her back into her seat as Preston’s speed hit alarming levels, even seeming to crash through a barricade.

“Preston! You’ve lost it! This road is off-limits!”

Freya urged Preston to stop. The night was pitch black, visibility was near zero, and the road’s lights were out, making it a forbidden path. Without high beams, an accident was almost certain.

Preston, unfazed, replied, “There’s a broken bridge a mile ahead. If you don’t come clean, we might as well take a plunge together.”

“What did you say?”

Freya froze, “Are you serious?”

“I’m a decent swimmer, but last I checked, Ms. Dawson, you’re not fond of water. Whether you can save yourself after the fall is a gamble.”

As he spoke, Preston floored the gas pedal even harder, the speed climbing relentlessly: “Time’s running out.”

“I told you! I don’t know anything! It has nothing to do with me!”

Freya was genuinely scared now. Her fear of water, deep and abiding, made the prospect of plunging from a broken bridge all the more terrifying.

“That’s not the answer I was looking for.”

Tense, Freya watched the road ahead, pleading, “I’ve told you it has nothing to do with me! What will it take for you to believe me?”