Chapter 409:

Carrie’s smile was frosty, her words sharp. “This is funny. Oliver claimed you came here to pick me up, yet now you’re questioning why I’m here. So, tell me, which one of you is spinning the tale?”

Tension cloaked the room as Kristopher and Carrie locked eyes, neither yielding an inch. Standing awkwardly between them, Oliver felt as though he was balancing on a tightrope, the heat of their silent battle making his collar unbearably tight. For all his usual poise around Kristopher, this standoff had him paralyzed.

Camille, typically Carrie’s fiercest defender, lingered silently at the edge of the room, her conflicted gaze flickering between them. Since becoming a couple with Albin, Camille had adopted a calmer outlook, her once-impulsive tendencies softened by her relationship. She knew that stepping forward now to defend Carrie would only inflame tensions between Carrie and Kristopher, handing Lise—an opportunist if ever there was one—a perfect opening.

Breaking the silence, Lise’s voice was a picture of feigned innocence. “Ms. Campbell, please don’t blame Kristopher. He wasn’t trying to keep anything from you. I just happened to be passing by for a meal and bumped into him by chance. If you doubt me, I can show you my schedule—I just wrapped up an ad shoot.”

As she spoke, she retrieved her phone and stepped toward Carrie, her demeanor full of false sincerity.

but distant. “Ms. Nash, whatever disagreement my husband and I have is private. Even my closest

as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. After a moment’s pause, she slipped her

out a chair, taking her time as she sat down. Camille followed closely behind, eagerly planting herself in the chair beside Carrie. Even if

didn’t expect you to come with Oliver.

nodded, not pressing the matter further, though her gaze was steady and assessing. After a moment, she

guard. He frowned slightly, genuinely at a loss. “What show?” he

front of Kristopher, took a deliberate sip, and then set it back down with a sharp clink. “How amusing,” she said slowly, her words dripping with sarcasm.

composure faltered further when Kristopher, without hesitation, picked up the glass Carrie had just drunk from and took a sip himself. Kristopher’s well-known obsession with cleanliness made the act even more striking. In all her years of knowing him, he had never done something like this—not even with her. He wouldn’t share a glass, fork, or anything that might suggest intimacy. Even their physical closeness had always been carefully measured, limited to holding hands or an occasional hug

arms, sharing a bond that went far beyond the clean, detached affection

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