?<strong>Chapter 232:</strong>


    “Oh, Mrs. Norris,” she stammered, tucking the phone into her apron pocket. “It’s nothing. My son just sent me a message. I thought I’d check if you needed anything.”


    Carrie’s eyes narrowed slightly but shifted focus. “What do we have to eat?” she asked, her tone casual.


    “We had fresh prawns delivered today.” A hint of regret shed across Willow’s face, as she had identally mentioned the prawns she nned to keep for herself.


    “Prawns will do.”


    “Bring them to my room when they’re ready,” she instructed, her voice leaving no room for discussion.


    Willow’s smile returned, though it barely reached her eyes. “Of course, Mrs. Norris,” she said, bowing her head slightly.


    Carrie didn’t respond, simply closing the door.


    She wasn’t one for unnecessary pleasantries, especially not with someone she instinctively distrusted.


    The moment the door clicked shut, Willow’s polite facade crumbled.


    She scowled at the door, her lips twisting into a sneer. “Arrogant snob,” she muttered under her breath, her voice dripping with venom.


    The warm steam from her shower clung to her skin, soothing away the fatigue of the day.


    Wrapped in a soft robe, Carrie sat on the sofa and opened herptop.


    Out of curiosity, she checked Twitter.


    The trending topics that had once centered on her name were gone.


    Kristopher must have stepped in to clean up the mess.


    Despite the absence of headlines, her notifications told a different story.


    Angry fans filled her mentions, using her of exploiting Asher’s fame.


    Some even warned him to stay away from her, calling her maniptive.


    Her lips pressed into a thin line, her temples throbbing with frustration.


    She closed the app with a sharp tap and turned her attention to WhatsApp instead.


    To her surprise, her inbox was flooded.


    Messages ranged from concerned inquiries about her disappearance to warm greetings for her safe return.


    A rare smile softened her features as she scrolled through the texts.


    The thought of so many people reaching out to her eased some of the tension in her chest.


    Soren’s message stood out among the rest.


    “You need to rest for a week before returning to set!” it read. “That’s an order! If youe back early, I’ll dock two hundred thousand from your contract!”


    Her grin widened as she replied with a broken-heart emoji.


    Soren’s concern was evident, though the mention of money stung a little.


    After a few more exchanges, they agreed she would rest for three days, no more, no less.


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