She Took The House The Car And My Heart

Chapter 167

Chapter 167 A Strange, Nostalgic Feeling -

Kristian's brow tightened just a bit, a shadow of irritation crossing his face. Why was Alan so full of energy after

getting drunk?

He crouched and tugged the towel from Alan's mouth, his every move laced with an arctic chill. "What is it now?*

"I have to pee!" Alan burst out, desperation clinging to every syllable.

Kristian cast a glance at the rope he'd painstakingly tracked down earlier, inwardly groaning at the thought of

untying it.

After silently repeating to himself that this buffoon was Freya's cousin, he finally gave in and loosened the knots,

freeing Alan from the blanket.

Alan bolted toward the bathroom like a man possessed.

Kristian remained standing there, his expression unreadable, brows drawn tightly together. He found it nearly

impossible to align this disheveled mess of a man with the usually sharp, polished president of the Briggs Group.

Was Alan always this childish?

As those thoughts circled in Kristian's mind, the sound of the doorbell pierced the silence.

The tension in Kristian's shoulders eased ever so slightly as he headed over, assuming it must be Freya.

But the second he opened the door, a sharp voice, laced with irritation, cut through the night. "Seriously, what's

going on in there? It's the middle of the night-"

The words stopped dead the moment the man caught sight of Kristian's face and the sheer, commanding force

he radiated.

That presence-"intimidating" didn't even begin to cover it.

"Is there a problem?" Kristian asked coolly, voice low and detached, his lips barely moving.

Clad in a tailored suit and standing like he owned the world, he looked every inch the composed, no-nonsense

corporate giant.

The man and woman at the door exchanged nervous glances, visibly rattled by the intensity in front of them. The

man coughed awkwardly, eyes drifting past Kristian to the absolute chaos inside the apartment. After a beat of

hesitation, he muttered, "Just... maybe try to keep it down? It's been a little loud."

"My apologies," Kristian said smoothly, voice laced with polite civility. "We'll be more considerate."

"Alright then," the couple mumbled hastily before making their retreat, still shaken for reasons they couldn't

quite explain.

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< Chapter 167 A Strange, Nostalgic Feeling

They were technically in the right, but somehow, standing in front of Kristian had made them feel like

misbehaving schoolchildren.

Just as the elevator dinged, Freya stepped out, her strides quick and purposeful.

The couple lingered, assuming she was there to voice her complaints too.

But to their surprise, Freya walked straight to the apartment door, and Krian, without a word, stepped aside and

ushered her in before quietly shutting the door.

The onlookers stood frozen, their minds working overtime.

They tried to spin a story out of what they'd just seen, but nothing quite fit.

If this had been a case of a secret lover caught red-handed, things wouldn't have

looked so civil. Yet if it wasn't that, what the hell was it?

Eventually, they gave up trying to decode the mystery and headed back downstairs.

Inside, Freya took one look at the disaster zone that was now Kristian's apartment and instinctively pinched the

bridge of her nose. Her cousin really was something else. Did he even think before turning someone else's place

into a battlefield?

"Where is he?" she asked, trying to keep a lid on her frustration as she turned to Kristian.

He gestured subtly toward the bedroom. "In there."

Freya moved to go check, but Kristian gently stopped her, his eyes locking with hers. "No rush. He's... using the

bathroom."

"No rush. He's using the bathroom."

Freya froze mid-step, and nodded slightly.

"I'm sorry about everything today," Freya said, glancing around at the mess, genuine remorse in her voice. "I'll

have a cleaning service cby first thing tomorrow. And if anything's broken, I'll cover it."

"It's alright," Kristian replied, his voice calm and even.

Freya hesitated.

She knew Kristian well-he had always been a bit of a germaphobe with a serious sense of personal space.

Under normal circumstances, he would've been furious over the way her cousin had wrecked the place, listing

every minor offense like a detailed report. But tonight, he was brushing it off like it didn't even matter.

"Did Alan scare you?" Freya asked, trying to figure out what had caused this unusual shift in his attitude.

"Not exactly," Kristian answered, his tone surprisingly soft, his demeanor towards her far more gentle than usual.

"He's out now. I'll check on him first." Kristian didn't trust what Alan might get up to in his current condition.

Better to go see for himself before letting Freya anywhere near him.

"I think | heard Mina's voice," Alan said as he cstumbling out, now fully dressed, though still visibly drunk.

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Chapter 167 A Strange, Nostalgic Feeling

"What did you do to her?"

Kristian turned to Freya and gave her a quiet nod, signaling that it was safe to enter.

Freya stepped into the room, and the moment Alan saw her, he charged at her and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Mina! Thank God you're okay! | was terrified he'd killed you!"

Both Freya and Kristian stood in silence, caught off guard by the bizarre display.

"I've already made peace with him," Freya said, humoring Alan's drunken delusions, her voice calm and flat.

"Now sit down. I'll whip up something to flush the poison out of your system."

"Okay," Alan mumbled. He shuffled to the couch, slumped over, and promptly passed out.

Freya frowned.

Just as she was about to prepare shoney water, her eyes landed on a shattered phone lying on the floor.

Her mind went into a spin. "Is that your phone?" she asked.

"Yeah," Kristian said with a shrug, voice devoid of emotion.

Freya made a silent vow to get her cousin off alcohol for good. He was nothing but a walking disaster.

"I might need a favor from you later," Kristian said, his eyes on Freya, his voice unusually gentle.

Still feeling guilty over everything, Freya nodded. "What is it?"

"There were simportant files on my phone-ones | didn't back up. Now that

it's broken, I'll need your help transferring them to a new one," he explained.

"That's the least | can do," Freya replied.

Kristian didn't add anything else.

Freya took a cup from the kitchen, filled it halfway with hot water, and added a generous swirl of honey.

As she moved through the space, she surveyed the full extent of the damage. The living room, the master

bedroom, even the guest room-each looked like a war zone. Only the kitchen and the study, which was locked,

had been spared. Ten minutes later, she finally got Alan to drink the honey water. Kristian helped her in quiet,

steady movements, his patience almost startling.

Something about the way he acted stirred up a strange, nostalgic feeling in Freya, like she'd been transported

back to the early days of their marriage. Back then, things had been warm and easy between them-no

arguments, just quiet happiness.

She set the cup aside and let Alan sleep where he was.

"I'll start cleaning," she said, unable to take the chaos any longer.

Her cousin had made the mess. It only made sense for her to deal with it.

But as she stood, Kristian gently reached out and took her wrist.

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