Chapter 172: Charlotte’s Game

"Kristoff, what did I do wrong?"

Charlotte’s voice broke as tears slipped down her cheeks.

"Didn’t you love me?" Her lips trembled. "You loved me so much before. What happened? Why don’t you love me anymore?"

Her tears were real. So was the anguish crushing her chest. She stared at him as though searching his face for the man who had once promised her a future—only to find a cold distant man standing before her now.

Why did it have to come to this?

How could Kristoff break off our engagement?

He had been the one who relentlessly pursued her. The one who had insisted that they belonged together. The one who had spoken of marriage as though their future were already decided.

And now, he was looking at her as though she were a stranger.

"Don’t you know what you did wrong?"

Kristoff rose slowly from his chair.

The scrape of the chair against the floor seemed deafening in the suffocating silence.

He walked around his desk with measured steps, his expression cold and unreadable. When he stopped in front of her, his tall frame seemed to swallow the space between them.

Charlotte instinctively held her breath.

Kristoff towered over her.

His dark gaze was sharp enough to make her feel exposed, as though he could see past every carefully constructed expression and tear directly into her soul.

She took a hesitant step backward.

Then another.

A bead of sweat appeared along her temple despite the coolness of the room. It slipped down her cheek, mingling with the tears already staining her face.

The woman who had once been admired on magazine covers and runways—elegant, beautiful, untouchable—now looked utterly fragile before him.

"I don’t know." Charlotte shook her head desperately. "I really don’t know. Kristoff, why are you being so cruel to me?"

She looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, her expression pitiful.

Kristoff’s hands curled into fists at his sides.

"You lied to me about your infertility, Charlotte."

He took a step forward.

Charlotte immediately stepped back.

"I didn’t."

"You did."

"I didn’t!" Her voice cracked.

"All these years, I felt guilty."

Kristoff’s jaw tightened.

"I spent years believing that the car accident had caused your infertility. I thought you had lost the ability to have children because of me."

Charlotte’s eyes widened.

For a fleeting moment, the panic behind them was unmistakable.

He knew.

"I never said the accident caused it..."

"But you never corrected it. You never told me your condition was genetic."

Kristoff cut her off, his voice colder than before.

Charlotte swallowed.

"Kristoff, does it really matter?" she asked desperately. "Was it my fault if you misunderstood?"

His eyes narrowed. She was clever. Too clever.

Even now, she knew exactly which words to use to make herself sound innocent.

"You’re right."

His lips curved into a humorless smile.

"It was my fault."

Charlotte stared at him.

"It was my fault for being stupid enough to make assumptions."

The sarcasm in his voice sent a chill down her spine.

He wasn’t shouting. He wasn’t accusing her. Yet somehow, she felt worse.

Charlotte had expected anger. She had expected him to scream, to demand explanations, perhaps even to forgive her once she cried hard enough.

But this cold, controlled Kristoff frightened her.

Why did his calmness feel more ominous than his anger?

Kristoff’s gaze hardened.

"The lie you made me believe..." He paused, his voice dangerously quiet. "I can let that pass."

Charlotte’s heart gave a faint flutter of relief.

Then he continued.

"But scheming to take Alexander’s life?"

His expression turned icy.

"That is where I draw the line, Charlotte."

Her blood ran cold.

He knew?

Kristoff took another step toward her. Charlotte retreated instinctively, until her back hit the wall.

There was nowhere left to run.

"I didn’t..."

Her voice was barely a whisper.

"I didn’t do anything to Alex."

"You planned it well."

Kristoff’s voice was devoid of warmth.

"You covered your tracks. You made sure there would be no evidence pointing back to you."

Charlotte shook her head frantically.

"No. Kristoff, you’re wrong."

"But fortunately..."

Kristoff leaned slightly toward her, his eyes fixed on hers.

"Heaven has eyes."

Charlotte’s lips parted.

"Some truths can be buried for a while. Some lies can survive for years."

His gaze hardened.

"But no matter how carefully someone tries to conceal the truth, eventually..."

He paused.

"It finds a way to reveal itself."

"Kris..."

Charlotte broke down.

A sob tore from her throat as she reached for his sleeve.

"I swear I didn’t do it."

Kristoff looked down at her trembling hand.

"I know how important Alex is to you," she pleaded. "I know how much you love him."

Her voice cracked.

"And I know I can’t give you a child. That’s why Alex is important to me too. He’s the reason I could marry you."

Tears poured down her face.

"Why would I hurt him? Why would I take away the heir that you have been longing for?"

Her words were desperate, almost heartbreaking.

For the first time, Kristoff’s expression faltered.

A tiny crack appeared in the certainty he had built inside himself.

Could he be wrong?

For a brief moment, doubt crept in.

Was Charlotte really innocent?

Could Alex’s near-death experience truly have been nothing more than a terrible accident?

Kristoff’s brows drew together.

He wanted to believe it.

He wanted to believe that the woman he had once loved wasn’t capable of something so cruel.

But then he remembered Alex.

The way the baby would tense whenever Charlotte entered the room.

The way he would cling to Kristoff.

The way he had cried—sometimes inconsolably—whenever Charlotte came near him.

It had always bothered Kristoff.

At the time, Kristoff had brushed off Alex’s behavior as childish fussiness. He had assumed the baby simply needed more time to accept Charlotte, especially since her visits were few and far between. He had never imagined there could be another reason for Alex’s instinctive fear.

But now...

The memories returned with painful clarity.

A baby didn’t reject someone without a reason.

And Alex had never been afraid of strangers.

He was afraid of her.

Kristoff’s expression slowly hardened again.

There had to be a reason.

There had to be something Charlotte had done when no one was watching.

Something she had hidden.

His gaze settled on her tear-streaked face.

She must have been hurting him in secret.

And if that was true, then no amount of tears could save her now.