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Chapter 265:
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Uninterested in a petty argument, Carrie replied calmly, “I don’t need designer labels to look good. My face does all the work.”
Lettie scowled. She made to retort, but just then, a thought crossed her mind, causing a smirk to spread across her face.
Lettie’s eyes roved over Carrie, brimming with disdain. “Carrie, you always act like you’re above everyone else. Tell me, what successful man would ever be interested in someone like you?”
Carrie chuckled, unbothered. “You say that as if you’re an expert on successful men.”
“Of course I am!” Lettie scoffed, flipping her hair dramatically. “I’ve always been more popular than you—since we were kids. And mark my words, I’ll marry better than you ever could.” The last part carried an edge, almost as if Lettie needed to convince herself more than Carrie. A flash of determination lit her eyes, her insecurities masked by false confidence.
Carrie smirked. “Good luck with that.” Without another word, Carrie turned and walked away, her indifference stinging more than any insult could.
Lettie’s jaw tightened, her hands clenching into fists. She knew Carrie’s words weren’t sincere, but she couldn’t find a flaw to attack. Frustrated, she stomped her foot like a child denied their way.
At the alley entrance, Carrie spotted Oliver standing by the black luxury car, a bottle of water in hand. Noticing her approach, Oliver set the bottle down on the driver’s seat and stepped forward. “Mrs. Norris, where are you headed? Would you like me to give you a lift?”
Carrie shook her head, waving him off. “No need. It’s close. I’ll walk.”
Oliver paused, then opened the car door and grabbed a fresh bottle of water, extending it to her. “The water from roadside stalls is often of inferior quality. It’s best you go with yours, Mrs. Norris.”
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Carrie glanced at the bottle, her eyebrows lifting slightly.
The sleek glass container glimmered in the sunlight, its design understated yet luxurious. She knew this particular brand—it cost more than some people’s daily meals. Her gaze flicked to the simpler plastic bottle Oliver had been drinking from earlier. “Get me a bottle of Evian instead.”
Oliver nodded, retrieving one from the car and handing it to her. Carrie took it, twisted off the cap, and took a sip without comment.
Just as she stood sipping her water, Lettie emerged from the building and froze in her tracks. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she spotted Carrie by the luxury car, chatting casually with a handsome man in a black suit. Lettie’s mind raced. Was this the owner of the car she had been fantasizing about? Was this man… Carrie’s husband?
Her shock quickly gave way to jealousy. She glared at Carrie, the hatred in her eyes almost palpable. Why her? Carrie, of all people. The girl with no father and a deceased mother, raised by an aging grandmother. A girl who everyone in the neighborhood had pitied. Why would someone so pitiful suddenly rise to such heights?
Lettie’s parents were teachers, from a respected scholarly family. She had been raised with love and care, her life filled with security. Sure, she wasn’t as naturally beautiful as Carrie, but she made up for it with fashion and effort. She knew that with the right treatments and a little cosmetic work, she could be more stunning than Carrie.
Yet here Carrie stood, casually chatting with a man Lettie had dreamt about—an elegant figure who looked like he’d stepped out of a classic drama.
Just as Lettie’s bitterness reached its peak, she noticed something odd. Carrie didn’t get into the car.
.
.
.