My coldhearted ex demands a remarriage - Chapter 290

Chapter 290:

🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙

“What now? Just head home, slap on some ointment, and hope for the best? How else am I supposed to show up for filming?” Carrie mused, her thoughts swirling like leaves caught in a restless breeze.

Halfway through brushing, a sudden memory jolted her. She quickly rinsed her mouth, spun around, and nearly collided with Kristopher’s chest, solid as a brick wall. With her toothbrush still in her lips, she stepped back, glanced up at him, and muttered, “Did Albin and Camille come back last night?”

“I locked the door,” he replied in a casual tone, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. “They probably couldn’t get in.”

Without skipping a beat, he plucked the toothbrush from her hand, squeezed a fresh dollop of toothpaste onto it, and began brushing his teeth with ease, as if they’d done this routine a hundred times before.

“You locked the door?” Her eyes widened, disbelief etched across her face. “So where did they sleep?”

Kristopher finished brushing, spat into the sink, and shrugged. “They’re adults, not clueless kids. With all the villas around here, they were bound to find somewhere to crash.”

Carrie opened her mouth to argue but stopped short. His logic, infuriatingly simple, left her without a comeback.

Once they were both dressed, they descended the stairs. Carrie unlocked the front door, pulling out her phone, only to freeze when she saw two familiar figures approaching from a distance. Camille and Albin were walking toward the villa, one trailing the other, their postures a mix of nonchalance and awkwardness.

As Camille came closer, Carrie’s gaze fell on a mark on her neck, a mark all too familiar. It mirrored the ones she’d seen on herself earlier in the mirror. Her eyes darted between Camille and Albin, and the pieces of the puzzle fell into place with a thud.

“So that’s how it is,” she thought. “A locked door and a long night—Kristopher’s interference has, inadvertently, nudged their relationship forward.”

Discover endless adventures on g alno vels ; con

Some truths, Carrie decided, were better left buried. She shifted her focus away, schooling her expression into its usual mask of calm indifference.

Kristopher, standing beside her, spoke in a low voice. “Let’s pack up and grab breakfast. I want to visit my mother-in-law’s grave again before we leave.”

Meanwhile, Camille sank onto the couch, throwing her arms over the back as she launched into a rant. “The service here is downright pathetic! Last night, I went for a spa treatment, and the staff just dumped me at some deserted villa and vanished.”

Luckily, Daxton showed up and helped me out. Otherwise, who knows what would’ve happened?”

Kristopher, who had been calmly buttoning his cuffs, froze mid-motion. He turned to her, his eyes shadowed by a storm brewing beneath the surface. His voice, when it came, was cold enough to frost glass. “You ran into Daxton?”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees, and Camille instinctively straightened her posture, as if drawn up by invisible strings. A moment later, her rebellious streak kicked in. Why on earth should she feel intimidated? She deliberately pouted and said, “Yep! Daxton is the best—kind, warm, and super helpful. Though, for some reason, he didn’t seem too happy to see me…”

Her exaggerated praise was a calculated move, and the darkening storm on Kristopher’s face was the reward she’d hoped for. It brought a smug, almost mischievous gleam to her eyes.

Kristopher, however, had already tuned her out. His fingers, which had resumed adjusting his cufflinks, now paused again, tension radiating from him like heat waves off asphalt. It seemed Daxton hadn’t taken his warning seriously.

.

.

.