The President’s Mistake A Tale of Love and Regret

Chapter 9

Freya was supposed to take leave for the day, but she insisted on going to Red Shift to work despite Peyton stopping her.

She should not be laying down on the bed resting while Peyton was out there working hard; she could not always depend on her to pay off her mother's hospital bill.

It would be shameless to do so; she might have done a little favor for Peyton before, but Peyton had repaid her more than enough. She was now the one in debt to Peyton.

She was in the changing room, and she opened the cabinet to take out her work dress. She took a deep breath and brushed her hair. She was about to take off her clothes and put them in the cabinet.

She overheard people gossiping out there.

"Did you hear? Emma, the actress, has gone crazy after being disfigured by Mr. Reeves. She was being sent back to her hometown."

"There was footage of her being promiscuous all around the internet!"

"Where is it? Show it to me!"

"It's been banned online, so it can't be found now." "Her career is totally ruined."

"Then, is Mr. Reeves being caught for his crime?" Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.

"Yes, and he is also being sued for the case of the young university girl. I think he'll be heavily sentenced!"

"The Reeves family is rich; he won't be sentenced heavily!"

"Ha! It was said that the Reeves family was gone; their stock crashed. No one can save him now!"

Freya was slightly taken aback upon hearing their conversation. Is it possible that someone is out to get me? But who am I to expect such things at this moment? I'm unworthy for anyone to do so for me.

But the two of them got what they deserved.

After packing up her things, she walked out. Everyone stopped talking when they saw her.

They only continued to speak once she left the changing room.

"It's rumored that Mr. Reeves and Emma got into trouble because of her."

"What? " "Who in the world would protect such a cheap and ugly woman like her?"

"Didn't Mr. Rivera stand up for her? Maybe he likes this kind of ugly, lowly woman! Ha, ha…"

Freya froze for a while, and she continued to walk without looking back. When she almost arrived at the entrance of the Red Shift, Della called her.

"Freya, come here for a while!"

She turned and walked toward Della, not knowing why she had called for her.

Della looked at her and felt strange; she could not comprehend Nathaniel's actions.

"You don't have to be the usher starting today."

Freya was stunned, but she was relieved. Being an usher was too much for her.

She quickly thanked her and said, "Thank you, Ms. Cruz; I'll get changed and clean the washrooms now."

"You don't have to do that either." She glanced at her and said, "You don't have to change; you can go straight to room 808. Mr. Nathaniel wants you to be in the public relations department."

Freya's face turned pale.

She knew that "public relations department" was just a better word for "bar girl."

So, after all, Nathaniel did not want to let her go. Is being an usher not insulting enough for me? Now that he wants me to serve and drink with men?

I can't even drink because of my gastric problem!

I'm numb from others humiliating me, but why? Why does he have to do this to me too?

Why does he want me to serve other men? How much more does he want to torture me?

She lowered her head and clenched her fists.

She knew that it was impossible for him to let her go.

It was exactly the same as what happened three years ago.

She regretted falling in love with such a cruel man.

It was the biggest mistake of her life; she could never forgive herself for it.

Della sympathized with her, but she offended the wrong person, so she could not help much either.

Della spoke softly and patted her shoulder. "C'mon, it's not good for the customers to wait too long."

She nodded, and she walked toward Room 808 numbly. She gently opened the door, and it was unexpectedly quiet. There was only the smell of cigarettes.

The private room was dim and dark; only a few wall lamps were turned on. There was only one customer sitting in the room.

The man was leaning against the sofa; he seemed exhausted. He was holding a cigarette in his hand.

His face was blurred among the smoke.

Freya realized that it was Nathaniel; she wanted to run away subconsciously.

"You can try running!" He flicked the cigarette ash in his hand; his expression was sharp and cold.

She was intimidated by him, and she slowly turned around. She then walked toward him.

The man was locked behind her by his bodyguard.

Her body was shaking as she looked at him; all the miserable memories came flowing to her. She was devoured by these hurtful memories.

Nathaniel looked at this trembling woman; she was no longer as graceful as she once was as the daughter of the Gomez family. He got irritated seeing her like this.

He put out the cigarette, and he loosened his tie, exposing his delicate collarbone.

He was sitting firmly; meanwhile, she was shaking uncontrollably.

Who could have thought that they were once the most enviable couple in Saeville? It was a love story between a well-known designer and a strong rookie in business.

They were both good-looking and came from powerful families. Their engagement banquet was even broadcast live globally.

But everything had changed. They could not even believe this absurdity.

He pretended to be relaxed, but the truth was that he was all tensed up.

I don't love her! I was only acting it out.

Even on the bed, he might be making love passionately and fiercely with her, but he never thought of it as love. He saw it as punishing her for her father's sin.

Killian used to set his father up and cause his death. And then he took over the properties of the Morgan family. And his mother also died miserably in Mypos...

He clenched his fists; it was impossible for him to love her. She did not deserve it.

She must be a bad woman with a father like that.

"Pour some wine for me!" He ordered.

Freya was afraid of him from the bottom of her heart; she was pampered by her parents; and now all her torments were caused by him.

She would just tremble by looking at him.

This moment was too overwhelming for her.

She carefully picked up the wine on the table, and she was about to pour it for him.

"Use your left hand!" He said it casually.

She froze, and he looked at her left hand that was covered in a glove behind her back.

"Pour the wine with your left hand." He repeated.

Her eyes reddened; despite going through all these hardships, her disabled hand would always be her pain.

After all, he still wanted to avenge Abigail. She desperately held back her tears; she did not want to show her weakness in front of this man, no matter what.

She slowly took off the glove.

And she used both hands to take the wine bottle; she was pouring it into the glass.

Looking at her deformed hand, his face was crumpled.

She accidentally knocked down the glass; half of the wine was splashed on his trousers.

"S… Sorry, I'm sorry. She hurriedly kneeled down and used tissue to wipe away the stain.

He forcefully dragged her to his chest, and he held her.

Her weight was fully on his body, and she looked at him in fear. She recalled the traumatizing night, and she said pleadingly, "Sorry, Mr. Morgan, I'm sorry... Sorry… Sorry… My hand…"

He could smell her familiar body fragrance; he had not had a partner for the past three years after her.

He thought he could forget her. But his heart was captured by her after seeing her once again.

His desire was suddenly ignited after three years, and he leaned into her to kiss her.

Her eyes were widened, and she was terrified. She pushed him away subconsciously, and she slapped him with her right hand.

The two of them froze.