FREYA

“Miss… Freya.”

“Miss Freya!”

The paparazzi kept following me, taking pictures, the camera lights blinding but I welcomed it. I was made to be the center of attraction.

I waved briefly at the crowd before getting into the car, and within seconds, we were moving.

I leaned back and let out a heavy breath.

“Miss Freya, where am I taking you?” the driver asked, concentrating on the road.

“Ford Consolidated.”

Once we arrived, I made my way to the elevator. I ...