?Chapter 168:


    Sleep had been a stranger to Maia all night. Slouched in front of herptop, she barely noticed the sunrise spilling across her desk. By the time she finished sorting out all the promised orders, morning had broken in full.


    The ticking clock caught her eye. Six o’clock already. Maia stretched her limbs and rubbed her heavy eyelids.


    Knowing that Kathie’s breakfast needed to be prepared soon, she decided to skip sleep altogether. Shuffling to the bathroom, she sshed cold water on her face to shake off the drowsiness.


    Opening the door, Maia nearly collided with Chris.


    Both froze, caught off guard.


    A thick, awkward silence settled between them, hanging in the air like heavy fog.


    Chris took one look at her pale face and the dark circles under her eyes. Concern flickered across his features. “Rough night?” he asked softly.


    Honestly, Maia felt likeughing. “Rough” didn’t even cover it.


    Restlessness had kept her up. To distract herself, she buried her head in work until the first light of dawn crept across the sky.


    Facing her was the cause of her sleepless night — the tall man who had haunted her thoughts.


    Everything Chris had said the night before kept looping inside her mind, refusing to fade.


    Without bothering to hide the annoyance flickering in her eyes, Maia shot him a brief nce and murmured, “It was fine.”


    She did not wait for a reaction. Instead, she brushed past Chris and headed straight for the bathroom.


    Chris stayed rooted in ce, his brows drawing together in confusion. As far as he remembered, he had kept his distance the night before. So why did Maia seem so distant now, throwing him looks filled with resentment and indifference? Had he misspoken somehow? But if anything, she had been the one throwing sharper words his way. Maybe she really had just had a rough night.


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    Trying to understand women felt like chasing the wind. Chris could only scratch his head helplessly.


    By the time they were both ready to leave, they ended up stepping out together, their footsteps matching unconsciously as they walked toward themunity gate.


    Maia kept her silence the entire way, not sparing him even a casual word. Hoping to break the ice, Chris said, “Where are you heading? I can drop you off if you want.”


    “No need.”


    Her answer came quick and sharp as she gged down a taxi that pulled over almost immediately.


    Chris watched the cab carry her away, a hollow ache settling in his chest.


    In the end, he pulled out his phone, opened his barely used social media ount under the name “Justiceze,” and typed out a desperate post: “Help! What do you do when your wife’s furious and won’t even look at you? Any advice would save my life!”


    This Facebook post was only visible to followers.


    Chris had never been the type to live his life online. At best, he would scroll through social media now and then, mostly to catch wind of thetest news or some juicy business drama. But ever since he set up his anonymous ount, he had found the whole scene surprisingly addictive.


    After he posted that video, his ount, “Justiceze,” exploded overnight, gaining hundreds of thousands of followers. New notifications kepting in every hour.


    Chris had gged Maia as a priority contact. The moment she followed him, he would know. The same went for her posts. Whenever Maia shared anything new, Chris would get an instant notification. Unfortunately, among all the new followers, Maia still wasn’t one of them.


    Chris tucked his phone away, walked to a secluded spot, scanned the area, and slid into his Rolls-Royce.


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