?<strong>Chapter 199:</strong>


    Had he misjudged everything? Did Kristopher not care for Carrie at all?


    Meanwhile, in the car, Kristopher sifted through a pile of shopping bags and retrieved one containing lingerie. He handed it to Lise.


    “Thank you, Kristopher,” she said sweetly. “This lingerie is custom-made and can’t be squished.”


    A fleeting glint crossed her eyes as she hugged the bag close. She had deliberately let Albin misunderstand, knowing his imagination would only serve her ns.


    Kristopher didn’t spare her any thoughts as his mind swirled with what Albin had just told him. He thought for a moment, then pulled out his phone and dialed Carrie’s number.


    When she answered, his voice was cold. “Why did you meet Nate alone?”


    Carrie’s response came sharp and unyielding. “Mr. Norris, it’s unfair how you have one rule for yourself and another for me! You left me stranded to have a romantic night with Lise. Did you expect me to sit by the roadside, waiting? I can be with whoever I so desire. We’re getting a divorce. It’s none of your business if I am with another man.”


    Her words stung, yet her tone was calm, as if she were speaking about someone else’s affairs.


    Before Kristopher could respond, Lise interrupted, holding up a small bag. “Kristopher, do you like eating fish maw?”


    Kristopher nced at it and replied casually, “No. My grandma made it.”


    “Coconut milk stewed!” Lise eximed, her eyes lighting up as she opened the bag. “I love this! But the servant never makes it right. Can I have it?”


    She looked at him expectantly.


    Kristopher hesitated but then nodded. “Sure.”


    The gentle exchange he was having with Lise pierced through Carrie like a knife. Without another word, she hung up the phone.


    Standing by the roadside, she tightened her coat against the biting night wind. The chill seeped through, cutting as sharply as the realization that Kristopher’s tenderness was never meant for her. As the wind carried the grit of the city, her vision blurred.


    Inside one of the exclusive private rooms, men and women draped themselveszily over the plush sofas, theirughter mingling with the sound of clinking sses.


    Nate sat sprawled in a corner, his legs arrogantly propped up on the low table before him. On either side, two women in skimpy dresses hovered attentively—one pouring his drink while the other lit his cigarette.


    He smirked and reached out, brushing his fingers lightly against one woman’s cheek before abruptly dousing her with the wine she had just handed him.


    The girl froze, her surprise evident for only a fleeting second before she forced a coquettish smile. “If you enjoy seeing me wet, Nate, why don’t we take this to the rooftop pool? One ss isn’t enough to be fun.”


    Nate chuckled darkly, patting her cheek again. “Feisty. I like that.” He pulled out his phone and transferred her a small tip.


    He took out his frustration from his earlier encounter with Carrie on these hostesses.


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