?<strong>Chapter 212:</strong>


    Squinting, Camille pondered Beverly’s implications. “From what you’re saying, it seems this may not merely be the act of an obsessive fan—perhaps it’s retaliation from those she crossed paths with in Foxfire County!”


    Resolved, Camille extinguished her cigarette with a decisive flick. She knew it was time to reconnect with her family, regardless of the personal costs. She was resolute in her mission to save Carrie.


    Just as her hand reached for the gas pedal, poised to set off, a familiar silhouette emerged through the curtain of rain, capturing her attention.


    Albin had barely made it halfway through his walk when a burst of rain poured down unexpectedly. Without a second thought, he raced toward the closest Norris Group building for cover.


    “Albin!” a voice shouted, slicing through the downpour. He swiveled, scanning for the source. The voice called out again, more urgent this time.


    Locking his eyes on the direction, Albin caught sight of a blue car’s window rolling down, with Camille waving wildly to draw his attention.


    Without hesitation, he sprinted toward her, noticing that the passenger seat was already upied. Deciding quickly, he swung open the back door and settled into the seat.


    Camille, who his cousin always praised as a senior, had been invaluable in helping his cousin find an apartment and navigate theplexities of studying overseas. His cousin had nned a thank-you dinner for her, dragging Albin along as the financier. That evening had sparked a friendship between him and Camille, leading to an exchange of WhatsApp contacts.


    Camille handed him a clean towel, which he grabbed and used to dry off his rain-soaked hair. The towel was lightly scented with what he recognized as Camille’s signature perfume.


    With a yful smirk, he inquired, “What brings you here? It’s quite the coincidence, seeing as I didn’t drive today. Mind giving me a ride home?”


    “Cut the smile, Albin! My friend’s in trouble—we’re heading to the police station!” Camille replied, her tone shedding its usual levity for ayer of gravity as she filled him in on her friend’s predicament.


    With quick precision, she exined the pressing situation involving Carrie.


    Though Beverly, sitting in the front, didn’t know Albin, she caught the urgency in Camille’s voice and added, “We’ve wasted enough time already! Carrie could really be in danger!”


    Someone named Carrie… Working with Asher on a film…


    The pieces fit together so well that it left no room to think it could be someone else with the same name.


    “What?” Albin sat still, frozen in ce. His eyes widened in disbelief as he turned to Camille, clinging desperately to a fading glimmer of hope. “Who did you say your friend was?”


    “Carrie! What’s the matter?” She pointed toward the imposing Norris Group building visible through the window. “She’s the wife of that ruthless Kristopher from the notorious Norris family. Doesn’t your family have a strong connection with the Norris family? Weren’t you aware that he got married?”


    Beverly’s eyes grew evenrger than Albin’s. “What? Kristopher Norris is married to Carrie?” she stammered, disbelief dripping from her voice.


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