Freya’s Pov.
"Bruno," I breathed, managing a small smile as my heart raced for entirely different reasons. If he had heard the conversation between my mother and me, we would be dead by morning. "What brings you here so late?" I fluttered my lashes in a disarming manner, but Bruno was already over it.
"Freya, I need to speak with you, and I demand that you do not interrupt me." Bruno looked me dead in the eye. All traces of the fake smile he had put on earlier at lunch vanished into thin air. He had an aura of authority hanging above his head, and it took all the fibre of my being to fight the urge to show my neck in submission.
Mother quickly set down her wine glass and smoothed her skirts. "I'll give you two some privacy," she murmured, gathering her book and gliding toward the bac
