?<strong>Chapter 1014:</strong>


    The name struck Kristopher like a jolt of lightning. His hand froze over his te.


    In an instant, shes of memory surged through him—Carrie lying motionless in a hospital bed, blood soaking the sheets… the chaotic voices of doctors surrounding her. And among those voices—clear as day—one line came screaming back: “It’s not type O. It’s Bombay phenotype!”


    Suddenly, memories surged through Kristopher’s mind—sharp, vivid shes that came without warning. They were apanied by the familiar sensation of pressure behind his eyes, the telltale sign of a headache he had grown used to over the days.


    Reflexively, he raised a hand to his temple, gently massaging it as the other hand slipped into his pocket, searching for his medication. After a few seconds of fumbling, he paused. There was nothing there. He checked another pocket, but still—nothing. And then it hit him. The pain he was feeling now wasn’t like his usual headaches. It wasn’t the same throbbing intensity that left him breathless. No—this was different.


    He suddenly remembered: in the chaos of his schedule, he had forgotten to take his medicine altogether.


    “What’s wrong, Kristopher? Are you feeling unwell again?” Aliza’s voice came softly from beside him,ced with concern.


    His heart sank slightly. Without giving it much thought, he instinctively leaned into the moment, clutching his head with feigned weakness. “Yes… it just started hurting again,” he murmured.


    Aliza leaned in, her voice cautious, probing. “Did you remember something again?”


    Kristopher stilled. Her question wasn’t one of concern—it was an inquiry, a test. She wasn’t worried about his condition. She wanted to know if a memory had returned.


    In the past, he might have missed it, too consumed by the pain. But now, pretending to be unwell, he saw it clearly. Aliza wasn’t panicked by his suffering. She was anxious about what he might recall. Still, he didn’t confront her. He maintained the illusion, furrowing his brows. “No. I didn’t remember anything. It just started hurting.”


    At that, Aliza visibly rxed. Only then did she try to appear worried. “This pain’s been going on for too long,” she said, half-heartedly. “Kristopher, don’t worry—I’ll call an ambnce for you.”


    But her concern didn’t match her bodynguage. As she reached for her phone, her eyes drifted back to the dishes on the table—half-eaten, barely touched. She’d been too engrossed in gossip earlier to enjoy the meal she had ordered for herself.


    Kristopher had always suffered his migraines in silence. They came on so fiercely, so suddenly, that he was never in a position to assess others’ reactions. But this time—this time he saw everything clearly.


    “Don’t call an ambnce,” he said.


    He quickly added, “I don’t want to arouse suspicion, so if the media catches wind of this and snaps a photo, rumors about my health will spread. That could affect the Norris Group’s stock price.”


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