?Chapter 83:


    At the Cox residence, Kristopher, d in ck, removed his jacket and ced it on the coat rack near the entrance. He then made his way into the living room and settled onto the sofa.


    Belinda had once adored this space, filling it with an assortment of nts and fresh flowers that brought life and color to the room.<fnb45e> This content belongs to F?nd-Novel</fnb45e>


    In the evenings, she would cook steaming hot meals and afterward curl up on the sofa with herrge, fluffy cat in her arms, eagerly awaiting his return.


    Now, the vases that had once cradled her vibrant nts and flowers remained, but their contents had withered away.


    The vi felt cold andpletely empty, a stark contrast to its former warmth.


    For reasons unknown, Kristopher found himself thinking back to the phone call he had received from Belinda.


    After brooding in silence, he reached for his phone and reopened their conversation.


    Hisst message, a blunt “boring,” hung in the chat, still awaiting a reply.


    With a moment’s hesitation, he typed out a new message: “Did you need something when you called earlier?” No answer came.


    Unable to remain seated any longer, five minutester, he dialed Marc. “I need Belinda’s current address,” he said tersely.


    Half an hourter, Kristopher’s luxury car pulled up in front of Belinda’s modest rental apartment.


    As he stepped out, he surveyed the aged building and its dimly lit street, his expression tightening in concern.


    He had believed that Belinda, once free from their rtionship, would thrive as she had always insisted she would.


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    However, the reality of her living conditions shocked him.


    Even the building’s security guard, a man in histe sixties or perhaps older, raised concerns about her safety. Could a young woman really be safe living here alone?


    With a sense of dismay, he stepped into the elevator.


    “Belinda.”


    Kristopher’s brow furrowed as he paused before the worn-out security door and knocked. Silence greeted his ears.


    A chilling premonition washed over him.


    He knocked on the door again, louder this time. “Belinda?”


    Moments passed, and just as Kristopher began to suspect she wasn’t there, the door abruptly swung open.


    His face brightened. “Belinda…”


    His greeting halted abruptly as his eyes met the figure standing before him.


    “Mr. Cox, we meet again.”


    Darren stood in the doorway, a ck bag in hand and a mocking smile ying on his lips as he regarded Kristopher. “What could possibly bring you here at this hour?”


    Kristopher’s tone was icy as he replied, “If I’m not mistaken, this is Belinda’s residence, right?”


    His gaze sharpened. “Didn’t you mention once that you two weren’t close, Mr. Wright?”


    Darren shrugged, uninterested in justifying himself. “You know, Belinda prefers that I don’t engage with you directly. Whatever I’ve said before…”


    His smirk grew as his voice took on a sarcastic edge. “It was obviously not the truth.”


    Leaning casually against the doorframe and blocking any view inside, Darren challenged him further. “Mr. Cox, must there be an urgent reason for you to show up at my girlfriend’s door at such ate hour?”


    “Girlfriend?”


    Kristopher’s eyes narrowed even more. “Since when did Belinda be your girlfriend?”


    “What do you think?”


    Darren retorted, his cold smile widening as he adjusted his white shirt with a flourish. “Isn’t it clear, given that I’m here at her ce sote?”


    The tension in the hallway mounted.


    Kristopher’s gaze was unyielding. “Where is Belinda? Have here out and speak with me.”


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