My coldhearted ex demands a remarriage - Chapter 291

Chapter 291:

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Good thing Carrie hadn’t gone to the spa last night. Who knew what kind of mess might have unfolded?

One Hour Later

The group packed up their belongings and departed from Fayedge Hot Spring. Typically carefree, Camille exhibited unusual behavior. Just as everyone prepared to enter their vehicles, she abruptly approached Kristopher’s car. “I’ll ride with you guys,” she announced.

Albin cast a brief glance her way but remained silent, walking to his own car and driving off. “Kristopher, I’m heading to the hotel to pack. I’ll return to Orkset separately.”

Camille appeared oblivious, only turning to watch Albin’s car disappear. Carrie sensed the underlying tension but chose not to delve into their personal dynamics.

The three of them stood in an awkward tableau beside the car. The additional passenger wasn’t the issue—determining seating arrangements proved more complicated.

Kristopher’s cold gaze settled on Camille. “Sit in the front.”

Camille bristled at the directive. “Why don’t you sit up front? I want to talk with Carrie.”

Carrie opened her mouth to intervene, but before she could get a word out, Kristopher ignored them both and slid into the car without another word.

With a defeated sigh, Camille opened the passenger door and climbed in.

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As the car began to move, Kristopher busied himself with his phone, scrolling through news articles. He came across headlines about the Fed cutting interest rates and loosening real estate restrictions in several cities.

His thoughts wandered momentarily to Carrie. Perhaps it was time to buy a few properties in her name.

In the front seat, Camille fidgeted restlessly, turning her head every so often as if itching to spill her thoughts about Albin. Each time she caught sight of Kristopher’s brooding face in the rearview mirror, though, she swallowed her words and sank back into her seat.

Eventually, she gave up and pulled out her phone. Without headphones, the loud thrum of DJ music filled the car.

Carrie leaned over, curious. “What’s so loud? What are you watching?”

Camille tilted her phone to show the screen. “Male dancers.”

The video displayed a shirtless streamer twisting and gyrating under flashing lights, his exaggerated chest and abs catching the camera’s focus. The shadows on his physique made the whole performance seem more dramatic than it actually was.

Carrie involuntarily compared the dancer to Kristopher’s physique, feeling slightly disappointed. As she prepared to look away, Kristopher’s cold gaze intercepted her.

He snorted, his tone laced with derision. “You don’t seem very discerning.”

The condescension in his voice stung. Carrie sat up straighter, her chin tilting defiantly. “You old-timers wouldn’t understand the appeal of younger guys. They’re sweet, obedient, and full of energy— something you might not be familiar with.”

Camille jumped in enthusiastically. “Exactly! And the key is their stamina. Unlike some older men, who probably can’t even last—”

“Enough,” Kristopher interrupted, his lips curling into a wry smile as his eyes settled on Carrie. There was a dangerous glint in his gaze, a challenge thinly veiled by amusement. “Are you sure you’re talking about the right person?”

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