He Covered for My Parents' Killer, Then Lost Me

Chapter 2

Greta let out a soft laugh, her face full of contempt.

"Who told you to tear up my check, you little b***h? Thirty million dollars, and that still wasn't enough to buy a nanny's life? Freya, the blood in your veins is just as cheap. Even if I'm no longer Mrs. Judson, you still can't compare to me. You took something that was never yours to take. This is what you get."

Freya stared at those shallow, vicious eyes of hers, her own eyes red as she gritted her teeth and said word by word, "Greta, murderers pay with their lives."

Instead of being afraid, Greta laughed out loud.

"That kind of rule is for poor people like you. For me, as long as I have William, that's enough."

Freya was just about to ask what she meant when she suddenly heard footsteps drawing closer behind her.

The next second, a sharp pain exploded at the back of her neck.

William's voice was cold as ice.

"The police? Freya, you really never do learn."

Her body went limp, and she collapsed.

William withdrew his hand and stood there expressionless.

Before darkness swallowed her completely, the last thing Freya saw was William walking toward Greta step by step.

At that moment, her heart was filled with despair and bitterness.

So William really did love Greta down to his bones.

Back then, just because Greta had said she was in pain, he had not even had the heart to touch her, bottling everything up until he landed himself in the hospital.

Later, when Greta got an intern drunk and caused her death, it was William who came forward, knelt to apologize, and paid to clean up the entire mess for her.

But even after all that, Greta still divorced him, took Henry Judson overseas, and nearly destroyed him.

From then on, he was practically left with nothing. He drank himself senseless every day and tried to kill himself more than once.

It was during that time that Freya and her mother were hired by William's close friend to work as caregivers, taking turns looking after his daily needs.

The pay was absurdly high, far above market rate.

The day Freya walked into Judson Manor, uneasy and overwhelmed, she ran straight into William's arms.

At the time, his jaw looked gaunt, his lips pale, and his eyes were clouded with a gloom and brokenness that would not lift.

He stood there in the dim light, looking as if he might fall apart at any moment.

That single glance was enough to make Freya's heart skip several beats.

Her mother quickly noticed something was wrong and quietly warned her, "Freya, you and he are not from the same world. You will never be able to compete with the woman who lives in his heart."

But Freya could not control her feelings at all.

She only wanted to stay by his side, watch over him, and see him slowly heal.

So when he got drunk, she made hangover soup for him.

When he could not sleep, she searched everywhere for remedies, trying every way she could to help him get some rest.

Freya stayed with him like that for three whole years.

Until one day, he finally pulled himself together and became Mr. Judson again, the same confident, commanding man he had once been in the business world.

Freya knew then that it was time for her to leave.

But just as she was about to go, William suddenly called out to her.

He said only three sentences, yet they trapped her for the rest of her life.

"I know you like me, Freya. Let's get married."

After they got married, William was indeed very good to her.

He would cancel late-night international meetings just to get home early and wash her feet.

When she was uncomfortable during her period, he would stay by her bedside all night taking care of her.

If she said she was in a bad mood, he would give up a project worth tens of millions of dollars just to take her out and cheer her up.

Back then, Freya had truly believed that William loved her.

Only now did she understand that he had never let Greta go.

Even marrying her had only happened because he heard Greta had registered her marriage overseas with another man.

He had married Freya out of spite, just to provoke Greta.

Those memories came crashing over her like wave after wave of despair, battering her already chaotic mind.

When she woke again, she was lying in a hospital bed.

Several police officers were standing in the room, looking at her.

William was sitting by her bedside, worry written across his face.

And Greta, the woman who had killed her parents, was somehow still sitting there perfectly fine, leisurely putting on lipstick.

Freya's throat was so dry it hurt. She practically tore the words out of herself as she shouted, "My father was murdered! Why is she still here? Why haven't you arrested her?"

One of the officers gave a quiet sigh.

"Mrs. Judson, we went to the address in the text message you sent to report the crime, but there was no water tank there, and no bloodstains either. We also didn't find your father's body. Under the current circumstances, there isn't enough evidence to open a case. I'm sorry."