Seeing her lips purse, a figure flashed through Bradley's mind.

Upon closer inspection, her eyes sparkled, bearing a resemblance to Freya's.

However, she wore heavy makeup, whereas Freya typically went for a natural look even when she is out, opting for light makeup at most. While both faces were beautiful, they are not exactly similar.

"What does Mr. Austin want to ask?"

Under the intense gaze of those deep eyes, Freya couldn't help but feel a twinge of uncertainty.

Once, his gaze had been gentle, as soothing as water, but now it was sharp, as if it could penetrate the depths of her soul. She feared her true identity might be exposed.

"Poppy," he murmured, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. "What drove you to breach the security of the Austin Corporation's financial system and manipulate the records? What was your endgame?"

Freya, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears, squared her shoulders and met his gaze head-on. "It's simple, really," she replied, her voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling within her. "I wanted to secure a partnership with the Austin Corporation."

She had anticipated that he was concerned about this matter. She only wanted to help him. But instead, this man actually doubted her intentions.

It's true what they say: no good deed goes unpunished!

A flicker of incredulity passed across Bradley's features, swiftly replaced by a cold sneer. "Is that so?" he scoffed.

"What else could it be?" Freya retorted, her tone tinged with frustration. "Do you think I have nothing better to do than meddle in other companies' affairs? I helped you out of respect, only to be met with suspicion and distrust."

The air between them crackled with tension, each word a barb in their verbal duel.

But Bradley, ever the astute businessman, saw an opportunity amidst the turmoil. "Impressive, Miss Poppy," he conceded with a wry smile. "I'll sign the contract."

As the papers exchanged hands, sealing their tentative alliance, Bradley couldn't help but feel a twinge of familiarity when he glanced at Poppy's profile. Was it just his imagination, or did she bear a striking resemblance to someone he knew?

As Freya was on the verge of leaving, Bradley called out to her.

"Poppy, there's something else I'd like to ask you. How much do you know about Lance Fenton?"

Freya halted in her tracks, turning to face him with a curious expression. "Not particularly. Is it of importance?"

"Of course it holds significance. A trustworthy partner can bring you boundless honour and wealth. Lance Fenton, however, operates on the fringes, his methods shrouded in ambiguity. Collaborating with him is a risk, inevitably leading to setbacks. Instead, I propose to triple the commission if you join Austin Corporation. What do you say?"

Ah, he's trying to sway her allegiance.

Though tempted, Freya shook her head in refusal.

While she could reject partnerships with Lawson Group and Lance Fenton, her collaboration with Michael Hayes had been fruitful for years. She couldn't betray their trust.

Irrespective of Lance Fenton's tactics, she remained undeterred. After all, her intention was to sever ties with Cloudstone Corporation Holdings as swiftly as possible.

"Thank you for the offer, Mr. Austin. I'm grateful for your generosity, but my work ethic revolves around personal satisfaction rather than financial gain. Money is of no concern to me, hence I must respectfully decline." Freya replied, gracefully waving her hand as she departed the meeting room.

As Bradley watched her leave, a sense of familiarity washed over him once more.

Their encounter left him with a lingering sense of unease, prompting him to reach for his phone and dial home.

"Sir." came the voice on the other end.

"Where is Madam?"

"She left the house." Frederick answered.

Bradley's brow furrowed. "When did she leave?"

"About an hour ago."

Without another word, Bradley ended the call and called Freya, his mind awash with unanswered questions.

A peculiar thing happened: not far away, a phone rang.

Is she here?

With his phone clenched tightly, Bradley rushed out.

Just as Freya was about to step into the elevator, she received a call.

She saw that it was Bradley calling.

Instead of picking it up, she turns on the silent mode.

"Miss Poppy," Bradley called out.

Freya glanced back at him. "Is there something else, Mr. Austin?"

Bradley remained silent as he dialled the same number again.

The phone didn't ring, but his gaze pierced through her, searching for any sign.

Yet Freya met his stare without flinching, her expression devoid of emotion, unnervingly composed.

"It's nothing." Bradley said, hanging up the phone before turning to return to his office.

Freya heaved a sigh of relief.

She had come dangerously close to being exposed.

However, Bradley didn't actually return to his office. While Freya descended in the elevator, he slipped into his private elevator.

For some reason, he couldn't shake feeling the hint of resemblance between Poppy and Freya.

Especially those eyes... they triggered a sense of déjà vu within him.

Freya noticed someone trailing her. Upon exiting Austin Corporation, she intentionally took a circuitous route through the streets, hoping to shake off Bradley.

She slipped into a nearby bookstore, pretending to browse through books. When the man wasn't paying attention, she quietly slipped out through the back door.

By the time Bradley caught up, only the lingering scent of car exhaust remained.

"Boss, do you think there's something suspicious about Miss Poppy?" Harry came in his car.

"Whether there's an issue or not requires further investigation. Let's head back to Royal Garden Mansion for now." Bradley replied, his eyes narrowing. He hurried into the car and drove home. To his surprise, Freya was already there.

She sat on the sofa, absorbed in the television, with a bag of crisps tucked in her arms, crunching away.

"Where did you go this afternoon?" he asked, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her.

Bradley's expression softened as he drew her into his embrace, savouring the warmth of her presence. "I missed you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

As they melted into each other's arms, the outside world faded away, leaving them alone in their private sanctuary.

"Don't be silly, Frederick and Rosa are still here, Freya glanced sideways, noticing the two elders tactfully preparing to leave, her face reddening with embarrassment. She raised her hand to playfully punch him. "You've been getting more and more frivolous lately."

Bradley caught her hand, his gaze falling to it as he examined it closely. Earlier, when he met Poppy, he noticed a mole on her wrist, wondering if Freya had one as well. As it turned out, Freya's wrist was smooth, without a single blemish. He had overthought it.

The phone rang.

The voice of the bodyguard came through, "Sir, something bad happened. Miss Jordan is missing."

His brows furrowed deeply. "What happened?"

"Miss Jordan was throwing a tantrum this afternoon, breaking many things. She was crying and shouting to buy a cake, saying she wanted to celebrate her birthday with you. We thought we would buy the cake and come back, but…"

"Send people to find her immediately."

Today was Juliet's twenty-third birthday. He had forgotten.

As the call ended, another one came through.

Impatiently, Bradley answered, "What else?"

"Leonard Newman! Long-time no see!" A rough, masculine voice came through the receiver.

Especially when he mentioned his real name, Bradley immediately thought of someone from Solterra.

"You should still remember the name Juan, right?"

Bradley never forgot that person. He had once left a scar on his face with his own hands during a battle.

But hadn't Juan died early in that battle?

"It's quite a surprise, isn't it? I'm still alive!" The man chuckled darkly. "Juliet is in my hands. If you don't want her to suffer a terrible fate at my hands, come see me immediately."