?Chapter 1063:

Carrie and her group stepped outside. As Arion was about to retrieve the car, a sleek white vehicle glided to a stop right in front of them.

The group froze, exchanging confused nces. Then Daxton emerged from the car, his tall frame outlined by the sunlight—and in his arms, a massive bouquet of vivid magenta roses.

Freudian roses.

Carrie blinked. The memory was instant. Kristopher had once given Lise the very same flowers.

Across the parking lot, Lise was heading out. But the sh of that color—bright magenta catching the sunlight—stopped her in her tracks. Her heart clenched painfully, and for a moment, the world narrowed around her.

That bouquet… it hit her like a punch. Fragments of old memories surged forward, uninvited.

Her gaze snapped to Carrie, narrowing into ice.

Carrie had destroyed everything—swept through her life like a storm, careless of what she left broken in her wake. Lise would make Carrie pay.

With her jaw tight and expression unreadable, Lise turned sharply and disappeared down the corridor without a word.

Carrie stepped forward, hand halfway outstretched to ept the bouquet, when a prickle crawled up her spine. Someone was watching her. It was the same chilling sensation she had felt that day at the hospital when she visited Albin. A pressure, subtle but undeniable.

She turned her head instinctively, scanning the surroundings. Nothing. Only a nk stretch of wall stared back at her. But the angle… if someone were standing just behind that wall, tucked into the blind spot, they could see her—but she would never see them.

She hesitated, one foot sliding back slightly as if to move—but Daxton’s voice cut through her thoughts.

More updates uploaded to gα?ησν??ls

“Carrie? What are you looking at?”

Snapping back to the present, she turned and shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

No point in voicing it. If she mentioned the strange feeling, her family and Daxton would immediately leap into investigation mode. And for what? She had no proof—just a sense. No need to stir the ho’s nest. Besides, she had already made enough trouble.

Carrie exhaled slowly, running through the logic until the unease in her chest began to settle. She reached out and took the bouquet from Daxton’s hands. “Thank you. They are beautiful.”

In truth, the bold magenta shed with her tastes. She preferred muted tones, the soft whites and gentle lcs that Kristopher used to pick out so effortlessly. But she smiled anyway.

“As long as you like them,” Daxton replied, his voice warm. “I don’t know much about flowers. The shop assistant said these were a popr choice.”

.

.

.