?<strong>Chapter 506:</strong>


    The maid, watching from the side, seemed pleased. “You didn’t eat much at lunch, so I thought your appetite might be poor today. That’s why I prepared more vegetable-based dishes.”


    Carrie smiled faintly, murmuring, “It’s perfect, thank you.”


    What the maid didn’t know was that Carrie was keeping a secret. She hadn’t told anyone about her suspected pregnancy—not even Kristopher. Sharing the news too early felt risky. What if the test had been a false rm? She didn’t want to get everyone’s hopes up only to disappoint them, especially Mny and Billie, who had eagerly awaited the possibility of a child.


    Her thoughts drifted back to earlier in the car. She had almost told Kristopher but held back at thest moment.


    This wasn’t something to share lightly; she would wait until she was certain. Later that night, Carrie went through her bedtime routine and climbed into bed, the events of the day still reying in her mind. She didn’t hear Kristopher return until muchter.


    He entered the room after his shower, his hair damp and his presence calming. He sat down beside her, holding the catalogs in one hand. Before long, their conversation shifted to quietughter and lingering touches. His hand slid across her waist, his kisses trailing down her neck. The warmth of his touch was familiar and intoxicating, drawing her into the moment.


    But suddenly, a thought pierced through the haze: intimacy during early pregnancy could lead toplications. Her heart raced, and she gently pushed him away. “I’m not feeling well tonight.”


    “What’s wrong?” Kristopher asked, his brows furrowed with concern.


    Carrie searched for an excuse. “My stomach’s a little upset, and I’m really tired.”


    The worry on his face softened. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “Alright, I’ll let you off the hook tonight.”


    A few dayster, Foxfire’s nned tourist area was beginning to take shape. The charm of the quaint town remained intact; the renovations had been careful, preserving the character of the guesthouses and the town’s unique ambiance. Though Agarwood hadn’t premiered yet, the powerful draw of Katrina’s and Asher’s names alone had thrust Foxfire into the spotlight. Tourists, lured by the growing online buzz, arrived in droves and found a ce more breathtaking than the curated photos. A hidden gem had been discovered.


    At the Norris Mansion, the weekend brought a family gathering at the sprawling Norris estate. Kristopher and Carrie had been invited for dinner. With work matters to discuss, Kristopher brought along a few executives. The evening promised to be a blend of business and family warmth.


    Carrie had grown ustomed to the executives’ polite indifference during previous interactions—always respectful but distant, as though unsure how to regard her. This time, the change was striking. As soon as they stepped inside, the executives greeted her with warm smiles.


    “Mrs. Norris, we truly owe the sess of this project to you,” one of them said, his enthusiasm almost boyish.


    “Absolutely! What you’ve aplished is nothing short of extraordinary,” another chimed in. “Transforming an overlooked little town into the top tourist destination—well, that’s no small feat.”


    “Mrs. Norris, you’ve been so modest about your contributions that we never realized how instrumental you’ve been,” someone added. “Your work as a screenwriter created more buzz than all our marketingbined.”


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