Chapter 56: The Reader Who Knew Too Much

Freya forgot Louis's suspicious comment while rescuing dinner, but the thought returned later that night. She sat at her desk staring at the newest comment from L beneath her chapter. The reader had written, "At least the rivals finally communicated instead of creating problems through assumptions. Character development."

Freya slowly reread the sentence.

Then she remembered Louis saying, Don't say character development, before she had actually said it.

Coincidence was possible. Unfortunately, Freya was a writer, and writers were professionally trained to become suspicious of coincidences.

She opened L's comment history. The account had appeared shortly after her novel began gaining traction. It commented at strange times—often shortly after Louis disappeared into his room. Several opinions sounded remarkably similar to things Louis had said during conversations.

Freya leaned back. "No way."

She needed evidence.

The next morning, she deliberately complained at breakfast about a fictional problem that didn't exist. "I'm thinking of killing the heroine's brother."

Louis looked up. "You never mentioned she had a brother."

"New character." Freya kept her expression innocent. "He'll appear and die immediately."

Louis frowned. "That sounds unnecessary."

"Maybe readers will love it."

She spent the entire day waiting. L didn't comment about the imaginary brother because, naturally, the published chapter contained no such thing. That test proved nothing.

So Freya tried again.

That evening she uploaded a chapter containing a deliberately awkward business decision. She knew exactly how it could be fixed, but she left it in temporarily. Within forty minutes, L commented: "Why would she accept those terms without negotiating the renewal clause?"

Freya stared at the screen. Louis had criticized almost the exact same type of clause in her audio contract.

She walked into the living room. Louis was reading something on his phone.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He locked the screen. "Reading."

"What?"

"News."

"Show me."

Louis looked at her. "Why?"

Freya smiled sweetly. "No reason."

He didn't hand over the phone. Suspicion increased from sixty percent to eighty-five.

Freya returned to her room and replied to L: "Interesting point. What would you change?"

A minute later, she heard Louis's phone vibrate outside.

No reply appeared.

She waited.

Two minutes later, Louis walked toward the kitchen. Only after the sound of running water began did L respond with a detailed explanation.

Freya covered her mouth to stop herself from laughing.

It still wasn't absolute proof. Louis could simply receive many notifications. But now she had a plan.

She typed another reply: "You sound exactly like my husband."

This time there was no response for nearly ten minutes.

Freya walked casually into the kitchen. Louis was drinking water with an expression far too neutral.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"Yes."

"You look nervous."

"I'm not nervous."

Freya smiled and returned to her room.

L finally replied: "Your husband sounds intelligent."

Freya burst out laughing so loudly that Louis heard it from the living room.

She still decided not to confront him. Not yet. If Louis wanted to secretly read romance novels under a mysterious account, Freya intended to enjoy the situation first.

Before sleeping, Freya created a private note titled "Evidence That My Husband Is L." She listed the repeated phrases, notification timing, contract opinions, and his refusal to show his phone. The entire situation was absurd compared with the corporate conspiracy surrounding them, yet it made her grin. Some mysteries, apparently, were much more enjoyable than others.