Chained To The Cold CEO: Why Won't My Husband Let Me Leave?

"The number you are calling is currently unavailable. Please try again later." A monotone recording echoed through the sterile emergency room.

The nurse, clearly growing restless, eyed Freya Brown. "Still can't get through?"

Freya set her phone aside and mustered a weary smile. "Would it be alright if I just sign for it myself?"

With a sigh, the nurse handed her the anesthesia consent form, muttering about the holdup.

Freya had already called Alexander Scott seven times and had yet to hear his voice. If this had been a matter of life or death, she thought, she might have been gone before her husband even noticed.

Numbness settled into her hand after the anesthetic took effect, and the doctor began plucking out bits of glass from her palm, while asking about how she got injured.

Nothing about her accident was overly dramatic—she just could not sleep and figured she might as well do something useful. Somehow, her attempt at cleaning a window had ended with glass's sudden burst and shattering everywhere.

While the doctor worked, he glanced up and asked if she always had trouble sleeping.

Freya shook her head and said that most nights she slept just fine, but tonight was different. There had been too much on her mind.

Her phone buzzed, cutting the conversation short.

She reached for it, swiped to unlock, and noticed a message from an unfamiliar number. Attached with it was a video.

Though the lighting was dark and unclear, Freya instantly recognized Alexander.

He sat in the suit she had chosen for him that morning, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle, his tall frame relaxed on the sofa. No matter where he went, those sharp features always seemed to draw every eye in the room.

Still, no warmth lingered in his eyes. Even when he smiled, there was a distance that kept everyone at arm's length.

But as Freya watched, it became clear just how close he had gotten to the woman beside him.

Three years had passed, yet she immediately recognized Yvonne Barnes.

Alexander's heart had always belonged to Yvonne.

Perched right next to him, Yvonne wore a vintage black silk dress that made her smooth skin and delicate features stand out even more. Her time overseas had given her an elegant, artistic charm. She gazed at Alexander with so much affection, her feelings plain for anyone to see.

Laughter and playful shouts from the crowd urged the two of them to drink together. Yvonne's cheeks turned pink, though her eyes never left Alexander, hopeful and eager.

Alexander kept his easy, careless smile as he lifted his glass, his eyes cool and unreadable.

The video stopped there.

Freya held her phone tightly, a wry smile tugging at her lips.

Suddenly, it all made sense—why Alexander had not picked up her calls.

Of course, he would be with Yvonne the moment she came back.

The thought had nagged at Freya all night, which was exactly why she could not sleep.

Knowing