?<strong>Chapter 1007:</strong>


    His eyes no longer reflected admiration, affection, or possessiveness. Instead, they carried the warmth and tenderness of an older brother’s love for his sister.


    Carrie’s voice was soft. “Thank you, Kyson.”


    She appreciated his respect for her feelings, his unwavering friendship, and his graceful eptance of her decision.


    Kyson’s gaze briefly touched her stomach as he offered a hopeful smile. “I may not be the father, but could I be the godfather?”


    “Absolutely! The baby would be lucky to have you as a godfather,” Carrie responded warmly.


    Their smiles met in understanding, and Kyson suggested, “Let’s seal it with a pinky promise.”


    Carrie eyed his outstretched pinky, then linked hers with it firmly. “It’s a promise!”


    At a secluded vi in Isonridge, Kristopher reclined on the couch with an attitude of indifference, his arm thrown over the backrest, a lit cigarette dangling from his fingertips, its smoke spiraling into the air. Only when the cigarette had nearly burned down to his fingers, the heat urging a sharp difort, did he rise to snuff out the remains in the crystal ashtray on the table.


    Massaging his tense forehead, Kristopher wrestled with a sense of deep unease. The more he pondered, the stranger and more unsettling the recent urrences seemed.


    At that moment, his assistant approached, carrying a stack ofpany contracts. Kristopher reached for a pen, poised to sign, yet hesitated as he nced at his assistant’s demeanor.


    Out of the blue, he asked, “When is Oliver returning?”


    The assistant’s face changed subtly, eyes casting downward to mask his difort, and he murmured, “The situation there is quiteplex. I’m not fully informed about the specifics. You and Oliver were handling those matters directly before you lost your memory recently, so we’re a bit out of the loop.”


    The answer was impably delivered. Oliver had long been a close aide to Kristopher, trusted with his most sensitive affairs.


    Yet, it was unusual for Oliver to be unreachable for such an extended period, regardless of the sensitivity of his assignments.


    “Understood,” Kristopher replied, swiftly reviewing the contracts. Satisfied there were no issues, he signed his name at the bottom.


    “Thank you, Mr. Norris,” said the assistant, gathering the documents and preparing to exit.


    Kristopher sank back into the couch, his spirit sagging with the weight of unresolved questions.


    Kristopher took out his phone and opened his conversation with Oliver. The most recent message, dated a week prior, mentioned that the project was progressing slowly and required additional time.


    Since regaining consciousness, Kristopher had not seen Oliver, but he still received intermittentmunications from him, alternating between texts and voice messages.


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