Mathilda’s POV

Fredric was still cold toward me — his anger hadn’t faded since Mrs. Rosa caught him at Paula’s penthouse.

Honestly, I’d already anticipated this reaction. But I hadn’t dared to reach out to him. I was terrified of disappointing Mrs. Rosa. I’d gone too far, played my role too convincingly in this grand deception. I’d become cruel — the leading actress in the biggest lie of my life.

“Hurry up, Mathilda! It’s already seven a.m. and you’re still not ready? We’re supposed to take off at eight! Do you think pilots wait for free? I don’t want to be late — not even by a minute!”

Fredric burst into the room for the second time, barking orders as if this delay were somehow my fault.

But it was obvious I’d been ready for hours. My suitcase was packed. I’d showered at six and was fully dressed, sitting beside my luggage — calm, composed, waiting. Fredric, on the other hand, was still running around the room throwing clothes into his bag like a storm.

He hadn’t stepped into this ro