Chapter 796:
“Bully her? Please. She's sharp-witted—too sharp, actually. | doubt anyone could bully her. She’s the one who
bites.”
He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his thumb, his tone filled with innuendo.
Kyson didn’t flinch. His expression remained calm, unbothered.
“Trouble doesn’t cwithout reason, Mr. Norris,” he countered.
“If you hadn't done anything, Carrie wouldn't have bitten you for no reason.”
He paused before continuing, his voice taking on a slight edge.
“With all your knowledge, you should understand that the law protects self-defense rights. Surely you're not the
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type to blthe victim, are you?”
Kristopher’s gaze hardened, but he didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looked back at Carrie, wiping her lips
delicately with Kyson’s handkerchief.
“It seems my taste has always been excellent,” Kristopher murmured.
“My ex-wife is truly impressive,” Kristopher murmured.
“Manipulating the most powerful men in Isonridge to do her bidding. She’s far from ordinary.”
He looked at Carrie, standing behind Kyson, her posture delicate, almost fragile.
The sight gnawed at him, stirring an irritation he couldn't suppress. His tone sharpened, edged with unmasked
frustration.
Carrie paused for a brief moment, then resumed dabbing at her lips.
The handkerchief smelled like sunshine, a clean, fresh scent—so different from the overwhelming colognes of the
aristocrats.
It reminded her of Gracie, and for sreason, she felt a sense of calm wash over her.
She took a slow breath and then looked back at Kristopher with a serene expression.
“Mr. Norris, you flatter me. Your words would be better suited for your fiancée, or perhaps your idea of a perfect
love. | couldn't possibly accept such compliments.” Her tone was light, almost indifferent.
Before Kristopher could respond, Kyson’s hand settled gently on Carrie's shoulder.
“Letaccompany you back.”
For a moment, Carrie hesitated. Normally, she disliked physical contact, especially when it was meant to be
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protective.
But she didn’t pull away. Maybe it was the lingering tension with Kristopher, or it was the quiet comfort of
Kyson’s presence. She simply allowed Kyson to lead her out.
Kristopher watched them go. His fingers curled into a tight fist, but he forced himself to relax. Reaching for a
glass of wine from the nearby table, he took a mouthful, swirled it in his mouth, and spat out the metallic tang of
his blood.
His jaw clenched. His mind spiraled with thoughts he didn’t want to have. How far had she gone with these men?
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