Today was their wedding anniversary. Cyril posted a lengthy tribute on Instagram right at the stroke of midnight, expressing his deep love and gratitude for her.
Within hours, it had garnered over ten million likes and shares. Electronic billboards throughout the city played Cyril’s personally edited romantic video on repeat, showing the world just how much he loved her.
A crowd had somehow gathered outside the villa. They’d carpeted the entire driveway with 1,825 roses, with a massive crystal hollow ring placed at the center. Inside the ring were designer clothes and handbags from top brands‘ latest collections. A small music box sat on top, playing Cyril’s voice on repeat.
“Baby, happy anniversary. I love you.”
Freda’s expression remained blank. She closed her bedroom door and buried herself under the covers, as if none of this had anything to do with her.
Cyril called, his voice full of guilt. “Babe, something urgent came up with the deal. I can’t make it home for our anniversary today, but I promise I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”
Listening to his pathetic lies, Freda suddenly laughed–a shaky, bitter sound. “It’s fine.”
“You’re upset, aren’t you baby?” Cyril immediately picked up on her tone. “I’ve prepared so many surprises for you. I hope you love them.”
“I’m not upset. Work comes first. I’m not feeling well, gonna take a nap.” Freda hung up coldly.
She curled into a ball, fighting to contain the pain in her chest.
The spectacle outside continued. Cyril’s drones performed an aerial show, forming various shapes to express his
love for Freda.
Reporters flocked to the scene, hoping to interview Freda and continue promoting their legendary love story.
Freda ignored it all. Her phone rang over and over again.
Seeing Cyril’s name on the screen, her vision blurred once more. She wanted to answer and demand why he’d broken his promises, why he’d fallen in love with another woman.
Eventually, she simply turned off her phone and buried her head under the cover.
She didn’t know how much time had passed when the covers were suddenly yanked away, harsh light flooding in and stinging her eyes.
Against the light, she saw Cyril looking absolutely wrecked–hair messy, face pale as a ghost, eyes wild with panic
and fear.
The moment he sensed Freda’s upset, he’d rushed home. He’d called her the entire way, but she never answered.
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When He Married My Savior in Secret. I Became the Oueen the World Kneels To
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Chapter 3
The instant he saw her, he pulled her tightly into his arms, his voice hoarse and choked with emotion. “Thank God you’re home! Baby, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
Cyril’s eyes were red, his body trembling uncontrollably. “I’ll never leave you alone again. When you wouldn’t pick up my calls, I thought I was gonna lose my mind.”
“Nothing matters more than you. I came back to spend our anniversary together.”
Freda said nothing. Thinking she was still angry, Cyril dropped to one knee and pleaded, “Please, baby, promise me you’ll always answer when I call. Don’t ever shut me out like that again–I can’t handle it.”
His panic and fear seemed genuine. He did love her.
“You got back pretty fast.” Freda’s lips curved in a bitter smile. Cyril’s expression shifted slightly, guilt flashing across his face.
“You haven’t eaten all day, have you? Let me take you to the revolving restaurant.” Cyril changed the subject, gently brushing the hair from her forehead.
“No.” Freda shook her head firmly.
Panic flashed in Cyril’s eyes. “Then rest for a bit. I’ll go downstairs and cook for you.”
“Okay.” Freda nodded coldly and turned away from him.
Thinking she was still angry, he took a deep breath and left the room.
About fifteen minutes later, commotion erupted from downstairs.
Freda went downstairs to find the living room full of Cyril’s friends, all helping to hang the freshly reprinted photos back on the walls.
When they saw Freda, they all started putting in good words for Cyril.
“Freda, Cyril was scared out of his mind. I’ve never seen him this freaked out.”
“Next time you’re pissed, just tell us and we’ll teach him a lesson for you. But don’t throw away photos or turn off your phone again–it’ll literally kill the guy.”
“If he’d come home and still couldn’t find you, Cyril would’ve completely lost his shit.”
“Oh man, when he saw those bare walls, he nearly fainted! Then the crazy guy wanted to dig through the garbage.”
“Alright, everyone stop!” Cyril emerged from the kitchen wearing an apron, looking angrily. “This is my fault. I hurt my wife, so she has every right to punish me.”
“Wow, Mr.Prescott, you’re such an amazing husband. You’d throw away your dignity for Miss Freda. She’s so lucky.” Jolie stepped out from the crowd, her face full of envy.
Chapter 3
Cyril’s expression remained calm as he smiled tenderly. “She’s my wife. Of course I’m going to spoil her.”
Freda felt sick to her stomach at his hypocrisy.
But she didn’t want to expose him.
“Don’t bother hanging the photos. I want to repaint the walls.” Freda said flatly.
Cyril walked over and slipped his arm around her waist. “Forget the photos. My wife’s got the final say.”
“Damn, you’re such a wife guy.” Someone teased, but Cyril didn’t care.
He helped Freda sit on the sofa, then went back to the kitchen.
Cyril had made all of Freda’s favorite dishes, but everything tasted like cardboard to her.
He kept serve her food with one hand while secretly holding Jolie’s hand under the table with the other.
Freda suddenly felt utterly disgusted. She couldn’t wait to get out of here, to get away from Cyril.
After dinner, Cyril didn’t give Freda a chance to refuse. He knelt down to put on her shoes and socks, then carried her outside while his buddies cheered and whistled behind them.
Jolie laughed and joined in the teasing, but Freda caught the flash of venom and jealousy in her eyes.
Cyril had arranged a fireworks show over the harbor just for Freda, and even hired her favorite band to perform.
Halfway through the performance, Cyril excused himself to use the restroom.
Something compelled Freda to follow him.
Chapter 4
