Chained To The Cold CEO: Why Won't My Husband Let Me Leave?

"I understand, Erick." Freya's voice was soft, and the exhaustion in her eyes said it all. "We're getting divorced today. Once I'm gone, I won't be able to watch over him, and who knows how long the toxins will linger in his system? If anything goes wrong, it'll be like all these years meant nothing."

Frustration flashed in Erick's expression. "What's the worst that could happen? His aunt just passed away, and he steps right into her place, running the Scott Group like he owns every street in Giastead."

She tried to calm him down, offering a small smile. "Don't work yourself up over it, Erick. None of this will be my concern much longer. Anyway, could you write me a prescription? I could use something to help me recover."

With a heavy sigh, Erick pulled his chair closer and scribbled on his pad. "You're lucky it's only a minor tear. Are you already taking something for it?"

"Yes, I am." Freya nodded quickly.

That was a lie, but she couldn't bring herself to admit it. She planned to tough it out and let her body heal the slow way.

The kind of medicine Alexander used to take worked miracles but was also far beyond her budget now, and that was the only reason she came to Erick for help.

Once the prescription was ready, Erick had his assistant fetch the medicine for her.

He returned to his seat and looked at her with genuine concern. "So, what's next for you, Freya?"

"I want to open a restaurant focused on medicinal foods. It was my grandmother's dream, and I'd like to carry it on," Freya replied.

Erick shook his head slightly. "Have you thought about working in a hospital? With your knowledge, it feels like a waste to limit yourself to the kitchen."

"You already know I'm not capable of practicing medicine the way I used to," Freya responded, a faint smile barely covering the ache behind her words.

Erick nodded in understanding, but disappointment lingered in his eyes. He had hoped, after all this time—especially after Freya devoted three years to caring for Alexander—she would have finally moved past the old wounds. Clearly, that wasn't the case.

"If Brett were still around, he'd want nothing more than for you to continue his life's work." He tried again to convince her.

"Isn't that exactly what you're doing now? Besides, I'll still be able to help people at the restaurant. If you ever meet patients who could use some dietary guidance, send them my way," Freya remarked, quickly steering the conversation elsewhere, a teasing grin chasing away the gloom.

Erick let out a reluctant laugh and decided to let it go. "I can do that. Do you have enough saved up to get this place off the ground?"

"I'm working with Zoie. She's fronting the money, and I'll handle everything else," Freya replied with a light chuckle.

That answer sparked Erick's irritation all over again. "Who would've guessed that after three years as Mrs. Scott, you'd walk away with nothing to your name? Not even enough for a restaurant lease."

It was true. No one would have expected that outcome. Even Alexander himself would be shocked.

Alexander would probably sit down and tally up the numbers, figuring she pocketed a million each month, so that must mean she walked away with thirty-six million over three years.

The truth couldn't be farther from that. Freya barely had sixty thousand left to her name.

When her medication was ready and she stood to leave, Erick decided to walk her out. While the two waited curbside for a taxi, he glanced over and asked, "So, are you honestly not upset about ending things with Alexander?"

Sadness actually lingered beneath her calm exterior. Yet she had to do this. Alexander never loved her, and Freya refused to waste her life hoping that might change.

There was no point in staying tied to a man who could never return her feelings.

"I'm a little sad," she admitted, sending him a smile. "Mostly because I'll miss living at the Bayview Villa."

That made Erick chuckle. He reached over and ruffled her hair. "If it's a villa you want, I'll buy you one myself."

She barely had time to reply before Erick's arm shot out and yanked her back by the waist.

A sleek luxury car tore down the street, barely missing them as it flew past.

Erick's quick reflexes were the only reason disaster was avoided; he'd yanked Freya out of harm's way in the nick of time.

The color drained from her cheeks, and her breath came in shaky bursts.

Wrapping his arms around her, Erick murmured, "You're alright. I've got you."

From the backseat of the car, Timothy let out a low whistle and couldn't resist a jab. "Isn't that Erick Wilson? He's practically the golden man among doctors these days—everyone with a title in Giastead wants an appointment with him. Even my grandmother won't see anyone else whenever she's under the weather. Looks like Freya has her eyes set on him next. Still, compared to you, Erick's status doesn't even hold a candle."

Alexander's jaw tightened, his face turning grim.

He'd always known Freya wanted out of their marriage, probably to find someone new. Watching her get close to another man before the ink on the divorce papers was dry sparked something ugly inside him.

It almost felt like she was betraying him in broad daylight, and the jealousy burned hotter than he wanted to admit.

Timothy tilted his head, genuinely curious. "Are you angry? Weren't you counting down the days until you could get rid of her? You're finally about to be free, and she's not exactly trading up. Shouldn't you be celebrating?"

Alexander kept silent, but the storm in his eyes only grew darker.

A slow grin spread across Timothy's face as an idea dawned on him. "Don't tell me you've actually caught feelings for her?"

"Shut up," Alexander snapped, his glare sharp enough to cut.

Timothy only laughed, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Guess I struck a nerve, huh?"

That earned him a look so cold it could freeze the air, and he finally held his tongue.

Still, Timothy tucked away his theory, already looking forward to seeing how things would play out.