My Coldhearted Ex demands a Remarriage by Eva Blackwood

Chapter 501:

She stretched, quickly threw off the covers, and jumped out of bed. Her feet sank into the soft carpet, the comforting texture making her smile. She searched the room barefoot and finally found a tall, fancy vase she’d never used, hidden in the cabinet. The vase, crafted from colorful glass, caught the sunlight and reflected shades of blue and purple, perfectly complementing the roses’ vibrant colors.

Carrie filled the vase with water, unwrapped the bouquet, and carefully arranged the flowers inside. Sunlight poured over the roses, making them glow in a warm golden light. Sitting by the window, lost in the beauty of the flowers, her phone rang.

It was Soren, letting her know about a last-minute promotional event she needed to attend. She was thankful she had applied the ointment the night before, as the red marks on her skin had already faded.

Today, she decided on a matcha-colored halter dress. The cutouts at the waist highlighted her elegant curves. Her hair fell softly around her shoulders, held in place by a delicate pearl hairpin, while tassel ear cuffs dangled from her ears, adding a subtle touch of glamour.

had never gotten her ears pierced because she was scared of the pain. Instead, the designer earrings Oliver sent

cheering her on. It was her first time having fans, and it filled her with joy. A group of strangers, drawn to her work, was offering her validation in

for each fan. Noticing them

she didn’t know was that the fans posted photos of the pictures and bubble tea on Twitter, creating a small buzz. The mutual appreciation

events, big and small. The event featured Q&A sessions, along with interactive opportunities for the audience to engage in playing and plot experiences, adding a layer

intense enthusiasm, it stretched on for a long time. Carrie, in her stilettos, felt especially drained after standing for what seemed like forever. She noticed her

lounge. She kicked off her heels, rested her feet on the edge of a chair, and softly massaged her tired ankles. On the table sat an unfinished takeout meal, and the cold pork soup had hardened, looking greasy. The rancid, oily smell spread

she became. Her stomach twisted in discomfort, and before she knew it, the urge to vomit

door. She glanced up