My coldhearted ex demands a remarriage

Chapter 822:

Across from her, Reece and Daxton exchanged playful remarks, praising each other’s cooking skills. It was impossible to tell if they were being sincere or just making conversation.

Gedralea Mall.

Kristopher lounged on the plush sofa of an upscale boutique, his posture effortlessly elegant. One arm rested along the back of the seat, while his other hand lazily scrolled through his phone. His long, tapered fingers moved fluidly over the screen.

The black silk shirt beneath his perfectly tailored suit had the top buttons undone, revealing a sharp collarbone. His watch—a globally limited edition worth more than most people’s annual salary—gleamed subtly beneath the soft lighting.

From the moment he walked in, he had drawn attention. At first, the sales associates and female customers had stolen discreet glances, their curiosity piqued. But as time passed, their interest became undeniable. Now, they no longer bothered to look away.

If he weren’t clearly wearing luxury brands—if he weren’t radiating an aura of unapproachable wealth and power—someone might have mistaken him for a model hired to make the store look more enticing. But Kristopher was no mere decoration. His sharp features, defined by a prominent nose and piercing eyes, held an innate allure.

Yet, despite the attention, he remained utterly indifferent.

The weight of their stares was beginning to irritate him. A flicker of impatience crossed his expression. His fingers swiped over the phone screen again, but his mind couldn’t take in a single word. With a quiet sigh, he exited his inbox and glanced toward the fitting rooms.

Just then, Aliza emerged. She wore an elegant white dress, the fabric flowing around her as she moved.

Noticing the lingering eyes on Kristopher, she strode toward him with a calculated smile. “Honey, what do you think of this dress?” Her voice was loud and deliberate.

She twirled in front of him, ensuring everyone could see the way she fit into his world.

The sales associate standing beside her immediately chimed in, all too eager to please. “Miss Herrera, this dress was made for you! It looks even better on you than on the model from the campaign.”

A ripple of disappointment moved through the boutique. Some of the women who had been debating whether to approach Kristopher now gave up entirely.

Of course. Men like him didn’t stay single. They weren’t available on the market.noveldrama

Kristopher opened his mouth to respond when a sudden, sharp pain shot through his head. A flash of fragmented memories—brief, chaotic, disjointed—flickered in his mind.

“So, Kristopher, who wears it better, me or Ms. Campbell?”

“Don’t waste your breath trying to insult me—I’m not interested. Say whatever you want—I respect that, but I’m standing my ground, no matter what.”

The fragmented image in Kristopher’s mind sharpened slightly. Two women. Both wearing the same dress.

He strained to see their faces, but the details remained blurred, concealed behind frosted glass.

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