?<strong>Chapter 485:</strong>


    Laughter rippled through the room as the crowd joined in with yful teasing. “Exactly! Carrie, you remember us from high school, right? We weren’t all bad! Cleaning duty, helping you out—we did our share. Come on, cut us some ck here. We’re not trying to steal your husband. Just let us toast him—maybe some of his sess will rub off on us!”


    Amused, Carrie nced at Kristopher, her heart swelling with pride. She gave a small nod, her voice soft but confident. “Go ahead, have a drink.”


    That was all it took. Everyone, except for Ailyn, rose to their feet, raising their sses with eager smiles. They drained their drinks in a single gulp, while Kristopher, in contrast, merely took a small sip, barely moistening his lips. The gesture wasn’t lost on anyone in the room. Very few people in Orkset—or anywhere, really—could boast of convincing Kristopher Norris to drink an entire ss with them.


    As the toasts continued, the waitstaff began bringing in dish after dish, each one more extravagant than thest. These weren’t the original items listed for the evening. Instead, a lineup of rare and luxurious seafood had taken their ce. Everyone knew the reason why. This sudden upgrade was thanks to Kristopher’s presence—a benefit Carrie had effortlessly brought about. And it had absolutely nothing to do with Ailyn.


    Ailyn, once the queen bee of the gathering, now sat in the shadows, her shoulders stiff with humiliation. Thevish dishes that graced the table—delicacies she rarely had the chance to enjoy—and the sight of million-dor wine bottles, once an unattainable dream, only deepened her misery. Knowing it was all because of Carrie snuffed out any appetite she might have had. Clutching her fork tightly, she stared nkly at the food in front of her, her eyes simmering with resentment.


    Around her, the lively chatter and bursts ofughter felt like echoes from a distant world, one she was no longer part of. Camille, catching sight of Ailyn’s defeated expression, felt her spirits lift considerably. Even Kristopher—whom she typically had mixed feelings about—seemed far more tolerable in this moment.


    Leaning closer to Carrie, she murmured with a half-joking sigh, “You know, love really is about destiny. Watching how much Kristopher has changed for you, I’m d I didn’t push harder to talk you into a divorce back then.”


    Carrie smiled, her expression warm yetposed. “And Albin treats you well too,” she replied softly. Their eyes met for a brief moment, an unspoken understanding passing between them. Beneath the yful banter, there was a genuine wish for each other’s happiness.


    ???ЯE ??P?ΛTΞ? IИ GΛ?И?VΞ??.???


    Kristopher, having showered Carrie with subtle affection all evening, had clearly earned her admiration. She decided to return the favor, fully intending to y the role of the perfect wife by peeling shrimp and crab for him. But just as she reached for the crab, Camille pushed a bowl toward her. It was already filled with perfectly peeled shrimp and crab meat, courtesy of Albin’s meticulous efforts.


    “Don’t bother dirtying your hands. Just eat this,” Camille said lightly, as though it were nothing out of the ordinary. Carrie epted without hesitation, spooning some into her own bowl and Kristopher’s. Watching their interaction, Albin suppressed a smirk. These three were untouchable. Best not to stir unnecessaryplications.


    Ailyn, meanwhile, seethed internally. Her frustration erupted in silent mental screams. Each nce at Carrie and Camille was like a dagger to her chest. She couldn’t believe the twist of fate that had ced them on such high pedestals while leaving her floundering in the dirt. Her thoughts spiraled bitterly.


    “Carrie! Camille! What on earth makes them so special?” she raged inwardly. “Why do they get partners who are rich, handsome, and perfect—like they’ve stepped straight out of a fairy tale? And me? I’m stuck with an unattractive middle-aged man with nothing but his wallet to offer. Neither of them is wless. So why them and not me?”


    As animated conversations filled the room, a solitary figure materialized at the private room’s entrance.


    .


    .


    .