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My Coldhearted Ex demands a Remarriage by Eva Blackwood

Chapter 665
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Chapter 665:

Kristopher was concerned that Carrie might utter something biting that Oliver could overhear, potentially

embarrassing him.

Yet, Oliver interpreted these instructions with a bit of surprise.

Responding with a nod, Oliver said, “Understood, Mr. Norris.”

He shut the door and positioned himself several meters down the hallway. Did Mr. and Mrs. Norris get back

together? But at a birthday party? Surely, they should proceed with caution under such circumstances.

Returning to the bedroom, Kristopher tossed the bags onto the bed, instructing Carrie, “Put these on.”

Carrie, retrieving the bags, looked up at him and asked, “Aren’t you going to leave the room?”

With a smirk, Kristopher teased, “Is there a part of you | haven't seen? Feeling shy?”

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Her laughter, tinged with frustration, Carrie retorted, “What right do you have to seewithout any cost?”

Adjusting his shirt nonchalantly, Kristopher teased, “I could pay, you know.”

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“Make it ten million then,” Carrie said, raising an eyebrow challengingly.

She was confident Kristopher would never consent to such a ludicrous sum.

Carrie’s sharp tone cut through the room. “I know you're not short on money. If you want to humiliateby

throwing cash around, | have nothing more to say.” Her words carried a deliberate edge, a challenge hidden in

their implication. If Kristopher transferred the money, it would be as though he were treating her like a woman

who could be bought.

But Kristopher was unruffled. Without hesitation, he pulled out his phone and began typing. His calm demeanor

was maddening, effortlessly sidestepping the trap in her words. “Giving my wife a million dollars is no big deal,”

he said nonchalantly.

He turned the screen toward her, showing the completed transaction. “It's done. You can check your account

later.”

Carrie's jaw tightened, her voice rising slightly. “Mind your words! I'm your ex-wife. Ex-wife!”

Kristopher shrugged dismissively. “An ex-wife is still a wife.” It was clear he wasn’t taking her correction

seriously.

Before she could retort, he turned and walked toward the bathroom.

Moments later, Kristopher returned, carrying a basin of warm water with a towel draped over his arm.

He approached her with measured steps, his expression unreadable. “Have a seat,” he instructed.

Caught off guard, Carrie hesitated but eventually sat down.

Her eyes followed his movements, her confusion deepening as he knelt on one knee before her. Gently, he

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placed her feet in the basin.

The warmth of the water was soothing, but it was nothing compared to the sensation of his hands.

His palms were hot, his fingers slightly roughened with calluses that traced her skin delicately as he washed

away the dirt.

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