# Prologue **Two Years Ago** The music is too loud. I can't stop laughing. "Becky, slow down," Irin says. Someone stops me from reaching for another drink. Saint's twin. Freen. "I think you've had enough." "Where's Saint?" I slur. "Work emergency," she says quietly. The room spins. I stumble toward the exit. Three guys block my path, saying disgusting things. Freen steps in front of me. "She's with me. Back off." They don't listen until security comes. In her car, everything's fuzzy. Her gentle hands helping me to the door. Waiting while I fumble with keys. When I turn to thank her, she's so close. Gold flecks in her dark eyes. The kiss happens before I can think. Soft. Perfect. I pull away, mumbling apologies. She backs into the shadows. I stumble inside and pass out. **The Next Morning** Saint calls early. "Beck, I'm so sorry about last night. Are you okay?" "What do you mean?" "The guys bothering you. I'm so glad I could help you get away from them." I frown. "You were there?" "Of course. I couldn't let anything happen to you. I was so worried when I saw those guys cornering you. Thank God I got you home safely." My head hurts too much to think clearly. "Thank you." "You don't remember much, do you? You were pretty drunk. That's probably for the best. Just know that I'll always protect you, Beck." Warmth spreads through my chest. Saint saved me. Saint protected me. That's when I fall in love with him. **Present Day** I'm staring at my reflection in the wrinkled wedding dress. "Becky? The car is here." The car to take me to marry the wrong twin. Saint left me at the altar this morning. Gone. Now I have to marry Freen. The woman who barely speaks to me. Who avoids me. I don't understand why she dislikes me so much. In an hour, I'll marry someone who can't even look me in the eye. Someone who isn't Saint.

Freen Sarocha Chankimha is a young designer who moved to the amazing city of New York. She is being interviewed at a major magazine for the position of art director. Everything would be fine, but only her new boss, Rebecca Armstrong, turns the blonde's world upside down with a sharp move when she begins to seduce the blue-eyed girl...

A FreenBecky Supernatural Thriller ## Prologue First day back in Bangkok, and I was already running late. Today of all days, my instincts decided to act up. I hurriedly fought to ignore the strange pulling sensation in my chest while glancing at the time. The crime scene waited for no one, especially not a detective with a reputation for being unreliable since her sister's case went cold. After struggling with my decision for five minutes, I finally grabbed my badge and gun. I pulled on the first jacket I found and shoved random case files into my bag. The new forensic psychologist from London would be meeting me at the scene, and I couldn't afford to make a bad first impression. A breakfast bar would have to do until lunch.

Freen Sarocha Chakminha didn't believe in love anymore. Not the kind that stayed. Not the kind that healed. She believed in control, in silence, in the armor she'd built from betrayal and ambition. Love was a transaction. Touch was temporary. And people-people always wanted something. Until the girl showed up at her door. Rain-soaked, trembling, eyes wide with heartbreak and hope. Rebecca Armstrong. Pregnant. Homeless. Carrying the child of Freen's brother-the same brother who vanished with her money and left chaos in his wake. Freen should have turned her away. She almost did. But something in Becky's voice-raw, unfiltered, painfully honest-cut through the walls Freen had spent years fortifying. She let her in. Not just into her house. Into her life. Into the quiet spaces she never let anyone see. And slowly, without permission, Becky began to unravel her. Not with grand gestures. But with soup and silence. With late-night study sessions and soft laughter. With the kind of love that didn't demand-but stayed. This isn't a story about perfect people. It's a story about broken ones who chose each other anyway. About fire inherited not from blood, but from survival. And how sometimes, the coldest hearts burn the brightest-when someone finally sees them.

After a tragedy strikes, Freen returns to a gloomy town and the childhood home she thought she'd left behind. There, she crosses paths with a mysterious person whose green eyes seem to see into her soul. The Armstrongs hide a deadly secret, but Freen isn't without secrets of her own. It's a FreenBecky Twilight AU! All rights go to the original author.

Rebecca Armstrong, a former Chicago Police Department officer, gets a job in a small detective bureau. Her first task at her new job is to spy on Freen Sarocha Chankimha, the fiancée of influential businessman David Ross.

"What happened to your face?" Freen asked. I look away because I can't believe she noticed it, I was so sure she wouldn't because I know she'll get angry. "Talk to me, Beck. Did he hurt you again?" She asked, clearly trying to stay calm or else she'll explode in anger. That's the thing though, she gets angry easily. "I just fell down from the stairs." I said and giggle, hold her arm to soothe her anger hoping it will work. "I know what 'fell down the stairs' looks like, Beck. But don't worry, love. I'll handle it, okay?" She said in her calm voice, trying to assure me but all I get is anxiousness. "He wouldn't dare to do that again." She said, smile and kiss my cheeks. I'm not scared because of what Freen will do to them, I'm more scared of what my dad will do to her. But little did I know who she truly is..

Rebecca Armstrong, a rising director, never expected her career to be derailed by a woman. But Freen Sarocha, a stunning and rebellious actress, sets her world on fire. Their forbidden attraction sparks a secret affair that could destroy them both.

Freen's POV - 6 years ago* "You're late, Sarocha!" I rushed into the charity gala, still in uniform. Everyone else looked fancy. I looked like I'd just arrested someone. Which I had. Then I saw her. Beautiful girl in a black dress, surrounded by boring old men. She looked... trapped. Like she'd rather be anywhere else. "That's Becky Armstrong," Nam whispered. "Armstrong Industries princess. Way out of your league." But something about how alone she looked... "I'm gonna talk to her." "FREEN, NO!" Too late. I was already walking over. "Ms. Armstrong? I'm Officer Freen Sarocha. Want to get some air?" She turned, brown eyes meeting mine, and smiled. A real smile. "I thought you'd never ask." --- Freen's POV - Present day I stare at the old photo on my desk. Becky and me, laughing at some café. So young. So happy. So unaware of what was coming. Five years since everything fell apart. My phone buzzes. Officer Sarocha? This is Richard Armstrong. We need your help. It's about my granddaughter... Roni. The daughter I've never met. "I'll be right there." I look at the photo one more time. Are you ready to see her again, Freen? No. But a child is missing. And despite everything, I'd still do anything for Becky. Even if it destroys me all over again.