Fiction Made Me His Wife (Freya and Louis) novel Chapter 33

hapter 33 Everyday Life

Chapter 33 Everyday Life

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Even Louis himself wasn’t sure why he suddenly felt relieved. Maybe it was something in Freya’s words that dispelled his suspicions–like her being an old soul or someone with dark intentions. It seemed that even in her past life, she had been a simple and kindhearted girl.

From the very first moment until now, Freya had shown a personality and set of values completely different from the original cannon fodder. That occasional nervous pretense she put on looked laughably clumsy to someone like Louis, who’d seen too much acting–it was like a child trying to wear adult clothes, obvious at a glance.

If not for her consistent kindness and grace, Louis might have already sent her to Mr. Samuel. But Freya had no idea about any of that.

“That kind of death really is unfortunate. So whenever something happens, you need to think carefully. Even if it comes from a good heart, you should still act within your limits.” Louis sipped his cereal, unable to help himself from commenting when he thought about how Freya’s kind intentions in her past life had gotten her killed.

Freya nodded seriously, again and again. “Yes, totally! That’s really important. These days, criminals are so bold.” It was a lesson she’d learned with her own life. And Louis was actually really great–he didn’t say people shouldn’t be kind, only that

they should act within their means. Now that’s what you call proper values.

The topic ended there. After breakfast, Louis left the house, and Freya stayed in to write. The contract was already signed and mailed off. The guaranteed payment wasn’t bad for a newcomer. She’d be getting her manuscript payment next month. Thinking about the money made her think of the plan to buy a house–but since Louis said he’d take care of it, she decided not to stress over it.

Since the big boss wasn’t coming home for lunch, Freya happily ordered takeout. After eating, she quickly cleaned up and threw the trash out. From what she could remember, Louis had never ordered takeout. To someone like him, takeout probably counted as garbage. Better to keep it out of sight–she didn’t want him to doubt her supposed “refined taste.”

There probably aren’t many transmigrators living as low–key as I do.

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