Although Charlotte Leigh was adamant, Duke Blue hesitated to fully trust her this ti. After all, she was asking him to gamble with his stardom.
Once Charlotte finished speaking, Duke Blue contemplated for a mont. "So, when are you planning to hand the video over to the dia?"
Recalling the video he recorded last night, the tension on Duke’s face eased slightly. In his mind, if the video got to Director Locke beforehand, would he still stand by that woman?
Duke Blue shook his head. As a man, he deeply understood n’s innate pride. How could anyone tolerate being made a cuckold?
When Director Locke eventually discovered Miss Scott’s true colors and grew utterly repulsed by her, how could he possibly seek revenge for a woman who taphorically turned his head into an endless pasture?
The more Duke thought about it, the more he felt the need to act first.
Charlotte Leigh understood Duke’s line of thought and, in truth, couldn’t help but anticipate what would happen after Miss Scott’s scandal was exposed. Would Director Locke still defend her? Mulling it over, she added, "Why wait? Let’s strike while the iron is hot and do it today. In a few days, ’Detectives and the Secret Room’ will air, and the marketing for the show will ramp up—it might overshadow the buzz. If we act first, maybe we can even push for Miss Scott to be edited out of the show before it’s broadcast."
"Let’s do that, then," Duke Blue breathed a sigh of relief at Charlotte’s agreent. He truly feared David Locke might retaliate against him for Mary Scott’s sake.
But as long as Mary’s affair scandal made the rounds, would Director Locke even rember who he was? Thinking of this, Duke’s steps grew noticeably lighter.
...
The VIP lounge.
An assistant handed Mary Scott her ticket after updating the flight booking.
Mary glanced at the flight information. It was slightly later than her previous flight. She turned her head to steal a glance at David Locke, who appeared to be dozing. Most of the journey, the man had kept a mask on, but now that he had fully taken it off, she noticed a faint scruff on his jawline and dark circles around his eyes. Clearly, he hadn’t had proper rest in days. Her curiosity deepened—what could possibly have him in such a rush?
"How long do you plan to keep staring?" Just as Mary couldn’t resist analyzing him further, David suddenly spoke with his eyes still closed.
Mary froze, hastily turning her head to feign focus on her coffee. But David opened his eyes, an amused smile playing on his lips. "Well, am I good-looking?"
"Cough, cough..." Mary had just taken a sip and couldn’t hold back—she choked, coughing violently. She couldn’t reconcile the mory of the righteous, upstanding young man from years ago with the mischievous rogue sitting before her now.
Seeing her flushed from coughing, David sat up and extended an arm, lightly patting her back to ease her discomfort.
It took a mont for Mary to recover, only for the man beside her to insist, unapologetically, "You haven’t answered my question yet."
Her throat was just beginning to settle, but now it itched again. She turned to him and saw his ruggedly handso face, made scruffy by the stubble. Deliberately, she retorted, "Whether or not you look good, I don’t know—but you sure seem sloppy."
"Heh," David let out a soft chuckle, a trace of displeasure in his tone.
Thinking he didn’t believe her, Mary turned on her phone’s front-facing cara. "See for yourself."
David took one look and realized he did, indeed, appear unkempt—a half-centiter scruff shadowing his jaw, faint purplish shadows under his eyes.
Still, unkempt was one thing; being dismissed by his own woman was another. David reached out and clicked her phone cara off, then beckoned her with a crooked finger.
Unsure of his intentions, Mary leaned toward him. The next mont, David cupped the back of her head, pressing her face against his stubble-covered chin in one sudden—and deliberately ticklish—motion.
"Mmph, that hurts..." Mary was both prickled and irritated, wailing as she weakly slapped at him. Unfortunately, one of her hands inadvertently landed on his previous injury. The small grunt he let out alard her, instantly making her forget her own discomfort. "Are you okay?" she asked anxiously.
David released her and leaned halfway into the sofa, his gaze fixed on Mary’s reddened-from-stubble cheeks. His expression was wicked as he teased back, "What do you think?"
Aside from her sore face, Mary was speechless at his audacity. Seeing his overly smug deanor, she scooted back into her seat, resolving to ignore him entirely.
David, however, seed to appreciate her unusually spirited reaction around him, lifting his mood considerably. "I’m fine, don’t worry," he said lightly.
Mary huffed to herself—*who’s worried about you?*—as her expression grew more awkward.
anwhile, David’s amused smile widened.
Sensing his gaze, Mary felt even more uncomfortable. "There’s still over an hour before the new flight—why don’t you nap a little?" she suggested.
*At least he won’t bother if he sleeps.*
But David didn’t budge. Instead, he seed to rember sothing and asked, "This isn’t the first ti he’s done sothing like this, is it?"
Mary caught on quickly, understanding he was referring to Duke Blue. "Relax. I don’t take him seriously—it’s all just petty tricks. Once the show airs, everything will co to light."
David nodded but remained skeptical. Sure, the truth would eventually co out, but that pretty boy’s constant attempts to step on his wife to climb up the ladder were irritating as hell.
And that deranged female fan...
Recalling how that woman had swung a spiked handbag at Mary, a flash of cold ruthlessness crossed David’s eyes. Still, he kept his feelings veiled, responding only with a calm "Mhm."
Mary exhaled a quiet sigh of relief. She didn’t want David interfering too much in her matters. Little did she know, her rescheduling of the flights wasn’t due to the assistant failing to secure them both on the sa plane—it was so she could arrange for soone to investigate. If all went as planned, the female fan who had acted today would receive a lawyer’s letter by the ti they were in the air.
David sensed Mary’s subtle change in mood; his gaze deepened, but he said nothing. He was about to close his eyes again when soone walked into the VIP lounge—it was Adam Piers, her co-star from the variety show.
Adam’s eyes briefly glanced between David and Mary. Rembering the gossip from their chat group, a knowing smile tugged at his lips. "Director Locke, Miss Scott—what a coincidence."
Mary stiffened slightly at being called "Miss Scott" by Adam. "Mr. Piers, no need to be so formal. Just call Mary."
"Sure thing." Adam obliged imdiately, calling out deliberately, "Mary."
The playful lilt in his tone sent an unintentional shiver down Mary’s spine.
David cut in irritably, "Miss Scott or Mrs. Locke—pick one."
He shot Mary a cold, side-eyed glare. Let Adam call her "Mary"? Since when were they close enough for that?
The tension left Mary awkward and flushed. How could she have known Adam would be so brazen? The way he said her na sounded almost like calling for a lover, leaving her utterly mortified.
Seeing the couple’s evident familiarity, Adam’s interest piqued. Weren’t they at odds during the Moon Lake Manor event? How had they suddenly beco so in sync? His smile faded slightly as he thought of a certain troublemaker, but he held his composure. "Mrs. Locke it is, then."
Mary: "..."
Was that really necessary?
Adam didn’t seem to care about her awkwardness, sitting directly across from David. "I heard, Director Locke, that you’re casting for a new dical drama after the holidays?"
David imdiately picked up on Adam’s ulterior motive. Frowning, he eyed Adam warily. "Don’t tell you’re gunning for the male lead. That’s a no. Totally unsuitable."
Not even leaving room for discussion.
Adam remained unbothered. "Fifty million—for the second male lead."
Mary, still sipping her coffee to calm herself, nearly spit it out upon hearing this blunt proposition.
Was he really offering to *buy* the role so openly?
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