"Who doesn’t know you’re Vera? We’re after nobody but you, Vera!"
The short-haired girl stepped forward and pushed Irene Spencer, who fell to the ground again.
Humiliated like this, Irene Spencer had nothing nice to say and imdiately started cursing in anger.
"Da...mmit! Get the hell away from ! Don’t you even know who I am?!"
Her hair was covered in eggs and spray paint. Her face was sared with raw egg, fruit peels, and lon seed husks, with her own hair stuck to the ss. Her face mask and glasses were nowhere to be found. Who could possibly recognize her now?
The short-haired girl had initially wanted to stop before things went too far, but upon hearing the cursing, she lost her temper.
"You’ve got so nerve, daring to curse at us! Girls, beat her!"
As she led the charge, the crowd imdiately sward Irene Spencer, pulling, kicking, and hitting her without rcy.
"Stop!"
Not far away, a journalist who had rushed over, hoping to take so stealthy photos, saw the scene and hurried toward them.
Seeing soone approaching, the girls quickly dispersed, vanishing without a trace.
"Miss Spencer?" The journalist jogged over, raised his cara to take a close-up shot of her, and then crouched by Irene Spencer’s side. "Are you alright?"
"Help... Help !"
Irene Spencer struggled to push herself up.
"I’ll call an ambulance right now!"
The journalist pulled out his phone.
"No... Don’t..."
Irene Spencer wanted to stop him, but it was too late.
The journalist had already dialed the number. "Is this the ergency line? I need an ambulance. The address is..."
Just then, three or four other journalists also rushed over. They unhesitatingly snapped pictures of Irene Spencer, and two even extended their voice recorders towards her.
"Miss Spencer, what on earth just happened?"
"Did you offend soone? Why did they attack you?"
"Do you know who those people were?"
"You’ve got the wrong person! I’m not Irene Spencer! Go away!"
Irene Spencer quickly raised a hand to cover her face. She tried to get up from the ground, but a sharp pain shot through her injured ankle, causing her to collapse back down.
This was an absolute, major scandal. If news of this got out, it would severely damage the perfect public image she had always maintained.
Shielding herself from them, she turned and crawled to the side, fumbling for her mobile phone which had fallen on the ground. She wanted to call her Assistant, but found the phone had been trampled and was completely unresponsive.
The journalists couldn’t get much of a response from her. Seeing that her injuries didn’t appear too serious, they simply continued taking photos, capturing every detail of Irene Spencer’s wretched state.
"Stop... Stop taking pictures! Go away!" At that mont, Irene Spencer could no longer maintain any semblance of composure. She started cursing angrily, reaching out to snatch the journalists’ caras. "Get away from , you dogs! No more photos...!"
After a mont, her tone softened again.
"Please, I’m begging you, don’t release the photos. I’ll give you money... however much you want, just give the photos and videos!"
"Miss Spencer," a journalist sneered, "since we’re dogs, what use would we have for money?"
"Exactly!" another chid in. "This is huge news! It wouldn’t be fair to your fans if we didn’t expose it!"
By then, an ambulance had arrived, its sirens wailing. The dical staff jumped out of the vehicle and helped Irene Spencer from the ground onto the ambulance.
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