"Alright. Now, let go of me. You're hurting me." Freya gestured to their hands. It was only then that Bradley let go of her hand. Her wrist was now covered in bruises.

He stared at her for a long time with a scowl on his face before swiftly getting back onto the wheelchair and leaving the bedroom.

He left, just like that?

Had they reached an agreement?

Freya let out a sigh of relief. Just as she was about to get out of bed, Bradley returned with some topical ointment for bruises.

She instantly got back onto the bed. Her heart pounded with anxiety as she was afraid he might suddenly go back on his word.

He leaned in close and grabbed the hand she had curled closer to her body. After he poured some ointment onto his palms and heated them up, he gently began to massage her bruised wrist.

"Ouch!" Her eyes were instantly filled with tears. When he had been rough with her, he did not hold back at all.

He kept his head low and blew air over her injured wrist while remorse filled his heart.

He had been so furious that he lost control of his strength and injured her.

Freya ignored the delicate wrist he was holding and kept her bright eyes trained on his solemn face.

He did not look ugly from the side. On the contrary, he looked like he was carved by a master sculptor. From her angle, she actually realized his face looked exactly like Adams.

After a moment of surprise, Freya spoke up.

"Mr. Bradley, do you have a blood-related brother?"

Bradley looked at her as something flashed through his cold and dark eyes. Then, he calmly replied, "No."

He was an orphan Old Mr. Austin adopted. He did not even know who his parents were, so how could he have siblings?

Of course, he also understood that Freya was asking that because she was thinking of Adams.

With ointment stained palms, Bradley looked at her with a gloomy and lonely look on his face. Freya noticed the dazed look in his eyes and continued to speak.

"If you need my help, I can also lend you a hand. Of course, it is in return for your recent care, excluding the condition of helping you with your treatment."

Bradley faintly smiled and said with a low laugh, "We will be the best partners, Freya. I will prove to you that no one is more suitable for you than me."

Upon hearing that, Freya blushed and refused to look into his eyes.

Her reaction made his smile widen. He reached out and pinched her cheek.

"Rest for a while. I'll go take care of some things and come back to you later," he hoarsely said.

Freya looked at him and understood what he was going to do.

He was very likely going to James to emphasize his right to her.

Bradley had a strange temperament, and he was very possessive. He likely noticed James had feelings for her.

She had not meant to involve James, but she still dragged him into this in the end.

She internally sighed.

As Bradley left the bedroom, Frederick approached him and whispered in his ear.

"Mr. Bradley, I have found the surveillance footage you wanted."

"Noted."

Bradley then entered the study and turned on the computer to access the surveillance footage. It was a recording of Freya's meeting with James.

When Bradley saw James hugging Freya, his eyes flashed with jealousy. The anger quickly shifted to another target as his gaze fell upon Arthur and Lydia who were sneaking around.

"As you expected, Mr. Arthur and Ms. Lydia have discovered the relationship between Madam and Mr. James. I'm worried they will cause trouble with this information."

Bradley's eyes darkened as hostility flashed in them. "Send someone to keep an eye on them. Report to me immediately if anything happens."

Frederick nodded. "I'll get on it right now."

After Frederick left, Bradley watched the video again, growing more furious the longer he watched.

That darned woman dared to hug James and was even caught on camera doing so. Did she think Bradley was dead?

Bradley's anger flared up as he moved back onto his wheelchair to leave the study.

Just then, there was a knock on the study door.

"Mr. Bradley, Old Mr. Austin has asked that you play chess with him in the chess room."

"I'll be right there."

…

Freya stayed in the bedroom for a while as unease built in her. She was worried that Bradley would bother James.

Just as she was about to head downstairs, a servant walked in and said, "Ms. Freya, this is a nourishing soup Mr. Bradley asked us to prepare for you. Please make sure to drink it all."

Freya signaled for the servant to put the soup on the table as she asked, "Where is Mr. Bradley?"

"He has asked that you meet him in the villa out back after you're done with the soup."

"I'll meet him right now."

Just as Freya was about to leave, the servant hurriedly stopped her.

"Ms. Freya, you should finish the soup first. Mr. Bradley ordered me to make sure you drink every drop. It's to prepare for the baby."

Freya looked up at the ceiling, speechless.

The baby.

Why did that man not give up? Even if she drank the soup, she would not give him a baby.

However, since the servant had a troubled look, Freya obediently drank the soup.

Once she was done, she winked at the servant. "I'm done. You can report back now."

She then left the bedroom with a smile on her lips. Once she was out in the hall, she hurriedly spat out the last mouthful of soup she had been holding in her mouth before pricking herself with a silver needle, forcing herself to bear through the pain.

She had noticed something off about the soup's scent. Her first reaction was that the soup was spiked with a drug.

If her guess was correct, this was Lydia's scheme. After she was drugged, he would be lured to the backyard where a man would be waiting for her. Then, Owen and Bradley would be invited to watch the show of how she cheated on Bradley.

It was all women's favorite game. Was Lydia not sick of it?

It just so happened she had nothing to do. She could head out back and see who the unlucky man was.

Just as Freya walked away, Lydia walked toward the room and shot the servant a look. "Keep an eye on her. You must watch her head into the villa out back."

"Yes, Ms. Lydia."

Freya walked toward the backyard. Soon, the servant caught up to her.

When the servant saw Freya's flushed cheeks, she deliberately asked, "Ms. Freya, are you okay?"

Freya looked at her with a dazed look in her eyes and asked in faux confusion, "I don't know. I don't feel comfortable."

The servant was delighted to hear that. It seemed like the drug was working. The fool doesn't even realize the soup was drugged.

"Mr. Bradley is up ahead. I'll take you here," she offered.

"Okay."

A cold smile flashed across Freya's eyes as she obediently followed the servant.

Outside the villa, the servant abruptly stopped.

"Mr. Bradley is inside, Ms. Freya. Please head in."

Freya blinked and nodded before stepping inside.

The servant watched her head in with a sneer and a derisive scoff.

Did a country bumpkin really think she could outwit Lydia?