My coldhearted ex demands a remarriage

Chapter 17:

A flush of embarrassment tinged Albin’s cheeks as he scratched his head, trying to mask his frustration. “Well, you know how it is. Sometimes women need a moment to collect themselves. I’ll try just once more.”

He hit the call button again, a flicker of hope in his eyes, but was met with the cold, impersonal tone of a prerecorded message. “The number you have dialed is currently busy…”

Realizing the gravity of the situation, Albin set the phone down gently and edged back, putting some distance between himself and Kristopher.

It became clear then—Carrie had blocked Kristopher’s number.

Kristopher, his brow furrowed and eyes sharp with a piercing gaze, stared down at the now-silent phone on the table.

His expression was a mix of betrayal and simmering anger.

The lively atmosphere of Kristopher’s party was shattered when the courier arrived with unexpected divorce papers.

Kristopher had just escorted Lise back to her residence, and the cloak of night had fully descended.

Oliver, positioned in the passenger seat, swiveled toward Kristopher with a concerned look and queried, “Mr. Norris, where shall I take you tonight?”

Initially, Kristopher’s thoughts drifted to Bayview Villa, but the sting of remembering Carrie twisted his features into a grimace.

He commanded in a frosty tone, “Head to the Norris Mansion.”

Oliver acknowledged with a nod, an unspoken understanding passing between them.

The driver promptly adjusted the route and steered them toward the grand gates of the Norris Mansion.

The next day, as dawn broke, Oliver and the chauffeur were at the mansion, ready to accompany Kristopher once more.

Seated comfortably yet pensively in the backseat, Kristopher listened to Oliver enumerate the plans for the day, his voice a soothing rhythm in the quiet of the car.

Midway through, Oliver’s words faltered, his reluctance palpable in the sudden silence that followed, capturing Kristopher’s attention.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Oliver’s voice wavered as he muttered, “Mr. Norris, an urgent matter in Isonridge tomorrow calls for your signature on a crucial contract.”

Raising an eyebrow, Kristopher looked puzzled. “It’s just a short trip. Toss in a few clothes. What’s the problem?”

With a reluctant sigh, Oliver cautiously explained, “Your clothes have always been arranged by Mrs. Norris. She even took care of your travel preparations.”

Oliver, along with other assistants, had tried to fill those shoes on occasion, yet their efforts paled in comparison to Carrie’s meticulous arrangements—a standard Kristopher had grown used to.

Hearing this, a shadow of discontent flickered across Kristopher’s face.

Oliver hesitated for a moment before venturing, “Should I ask Mrs. Norris to come back and help?”

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