?<strong>Chapter 482:</strong>
Albin, who had been quietly observing, shot a puzzled nce at Camille. “Useless? Ordinary worker? Are those words supposed to describe…”
Before he could finish the sentence with “Kristopher,” Camille jabbed him sharply in the ribs with her elbow.
“Not another word,” she hissed under her breath, giving him a pointed look. “Unless you want to embarrass yourself.”
Albin, though clueless about the undercurrent of the situation, wisely chose to keep his mouth shut.
Sensing the tension thickening in the air, a ssmate tried to break the awkward silence. “Alright, no need to linger at the door. Let’s head in and grab seats,” they suggested cheerfully. “Once Ailyn’s and Carrie’s partners get here, we can finally order.”
The mention of Carrie’s partner was clearly tacked on as an afterthought. The real curiosity hung on Ailyn’s boyfriend, the supposedly illustrious Cory, who had promised to host the dinner.
With polite chatter and scatteredughter, the group began to file into the private room. A few of the men, eager to y the role of gentlemen, pulled out chairs for Carrie, Camille, and Albin.
Ailyn, still fuming, felt the sting of betrayal as the attention shifted. Just moments ago, the same people had been hanging on her every word, and now they were cozying up to Carrie and her circle instead.
Returning to her seat with a huff, Ailyn yanked out her phone and fired off a WhatsApp message to Cory. “Darling, where are you?” she typed quickly.
Cory’s reply was immediate but curt. “I told you I’ming. Stop nagging. It’s annoying.”
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A flush of embarrassment crept up Ailyn’s cheeks. She hastily exited the app and tucked her phone away, terrified someone might catch a glimpse of the exchange.
As she tried topose herself, the elevator chimed again. A man who had yet to sit down turned instinctively toward the sound. The doors slid open to reveal Kristopher, striding toward the private room with the effortless confidence of someone who knew he belonged wherever he went.
The man froze mid-step, his eyes widening in disbelief. “M-Mr. Norris?” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
His reaction caught everyone’s attention, and heads turned toward the doorway. The atmosphere shifted in an instant, as though the very air had been electrified. A stunned silence settled over the group before it broke into a flurry of murmurs.
“He’s so young… and that face!” “My God, look at those legs. He could be a runway model!” “How can someone like him exist? He’s unreal…” “Why is he here?”
The private room was alive with energy, reminiscent of the buzz one feels when spotting a beloved celebrity at a live show. Just as Kristopher reached for the door, he abruptly stopped to answer a call, lingering in the hallway. From afar, Carrie admired his silhouette. Amidst the crowd, his presence shone brightly, overshadowing the other men.
A surge of joy filled her as she realized that the incredible man was truly her husband. Carrie, long celebrated for her beauty and brains, had be numb to praise over the years. Seeing her old ssmates admire Kristopher gave her a deep sense of pride, far greater than any praise she had ever received before.
In the past, she felt as if she was merely dust at Kristopher’s feet, revered only through his reflected glory. Now, her mindset had changed. She understood that she belonged alongside him at the peak, not merely at its base.
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