Private dining room in the restaurant.
As soon as Simon Baker left, Victor Johnson couldn’t hold it anymore. "Miss, I’m sorry."
Mary Scott, now in her early forties, had lost the commanding air she held as the producer in front of everyone earlier. She sighed softly. "Uncle Victor, you don’t have to be like this. You’ve done nothing wrong to ."
Back when the Scott family fell into disgrace, Victor Johnson was rely a chauffeur for them. The fact that he refrained from kicking them while they were down was already a kindness.
Looking at the girl he hadn’t seen for years, now devoid of the youthful naivety and replaced with a quiet composure, Victor Johnson felt a wave of bitterness. He took out a stack of docunts from his briefcase and handed them to Mary Scott.
Mary Scott, puzzled, accepted them and realized what she was holding—a share transfer agreent for the company behind the "Wilderness" program. Her brows furrowed slightly. "Uncle Victor, what is this?"
"It’s compensation for you, Miss. Please accept it," Victor Johnson said earnestly. Although he hadn’t hurt the Scott siblings directly back then, he had indeed abandoned them for his own survival.
The guilt had been weighing on him all these years. Now that he had finally found Miss Scott, he was determined to do sothing. The variety show was just a pretext.
Mary Scott stared at the contract in her hands, montarily stunned, then placed it back on the table. "Uncle Victor, you weren’t wrong back then. Neither Alfred nor I need any compensation. This is your hard-earned company—I have neither the right nor the intention to take it. I’m doing well now."
"But Miss..."
"Just call Mary." Mary Scott interrupted him. "Miss" was a title from a bygone era, no longer applicable to her.
"Uncle Victor, you should get so rest. I’ll talk to Moll." Lambert Norman cut off Victor Johnson before he could say more.
Victor Johnson snapped out of it, glanced at Mary Scott, sighed softly, and reluctantly left.
Once Victor Johnson was gone, only Mary Scott and Lambert Norman remained in the room.
Mary Scott found it harder to face Lambert Norman than Victor Johnson. She looked at the handso man in front of her, her lips moved, but she could only manage, after a while, "When did you get back?"
"New Year’s Eve," Lambert Norman replied. Thinking of the phone call he made to Mary Scott on New Year’s Eve, he added casually, "I was originally planning to return after hearing about your wedding, but so matters delayed , so I’m late."
Mary Scott’s face showed a trace of embarrassnt upon hearing "wedding." She avoided the topic. "When are you planning to leave?"
"Did you tell him about our marriage?" Lambert Norman, like Mary Scott, ignored the previous topic and instead asked his own question.
Mary Scott stiffened, her eyes widened sharply as she looked at Lambert Norman.
Lambert Norman’s gaze flickered with a hint of reluctance, but it was quickly replaced by frustration and displeasure. "So, you didn’t tell him. Am I right?"
"You know why we got married, and we’re divorced now," Mary Scott replied, her voice unconsciously raising.
"I know," Lambert Norman said bitterly. He had thought granting her freedom was giving her the chance to see David Locke for who he truly was, to suffer enough losses before realizing he was the one most suitable for her. He never imagined she’d marry soone else.
Mary Scott noticed Lambert Norman’s dejection and realized the cold edge in her tone. She took a deep breath and changed the subject. "How did you get in touch with Uncle Victor?"
"By chance," Lambert Norman replied, not telling the truth.
Mary Scott didn’t push further either. After a mont’s silence while looking at Lambert Norman, she wanted to leave, but her phone suddenly rang urgently. She seized the opportunity to escape, but Lambert Norman spoke first. "Take the call."
With no choice, Mary Scott picked up her phone. When she saw David Locke’s number displayed on the screen, she hesitated for a mont before pressing the answer button.
"Why did it take you so long to pick up?" David Locke asked gruffly.
"I’m with the program’s team," Mary Scott replied, glancing at Lambert Norman.
"What ti does filming start tomorrow? It’s especially cold on West Mountain this season. Be sure to wear thick clothes—don’t go trying to look pretty," David Locke said, hesitant to ask whom she was with on the program team but ultimately diverting to another topic.
Even he didn’t understand what he was afraid of.
Mary Scott murmured a response, exchanged a few more words, and ended the call. When she looked up, her eyes t Lambert Norman’s wounded gaze. Feeling awkward, she said, "I didn’t know ’Detectives and Wilderness’ was your and Uncle Victor’s project. If I had..."
"If you had known, you wouldn’t have joined, right?" Lambert Norman interrupted.
Mary Scott remained silent, her acknowledgnt implicit.
Over the years, she had tried her best to avoid reconnecting with people and events from the past. She didn’t want to revisit those tis, and her brief marriage to Lambert Norman was no exception.
Lambert Norman, seeing her avoidance, felt a surge of sarcasm. So, he had rushed back only to find he couldn’t compare to that man. He took a deep breath. "Do you know how many won David Locke has been involved with in the past few years?"
Mary Scott froze, gripping her phone tighter. How could she not know?
Lambert Norman seed to read her mind, chuckled self-deprecatingly, and said, "I never thought the once-renowned heiress would stoop so low."
"I’m no longer an heiress. Besides, I wronged him back then. Even if he had been involved with other won, so what? Everyone has a past—I’m interested in his future," Mary Scott replied calmly after a mont.
She disliked this aggressive side of Lambert Norman.
She thought they’d reached a mutual understanding over the years—that a clean break was for the best.
But her words clearly hurt Lambert Norman. A flash of pain passed through his eyes before he asked quietly, "You can accept his past, but what about him? If he finds out about Uncle Victor, or the fact that we were married, do you think he’d still be with you? I heard last ti, when rumors spread about you and Simon Baker, he kicked you out of the villa."
Lambert Norman knew his words were cruel, but his previous feigned generosity had only resulted in her throwing herself into another man’s arms without hesitation.
Years had passed, yet her heart felt as cold as stone—no amount of warmth could thaw it.
Lambert Norman’s remarks hit Mary Scott’s weak spot. Her doe-like eyes darkened for so ti before she looked up at him and said, "Lambert, I know why you’re saying all this. I know that what happened between us was my fault, but feelings can’t be forced. I just love him."
Her last six words were spoken softly, tinged with helplessness and humility. Lambert Norman felt a pang of sorrow, his earlier assertiveness imdiately crumbling. Closing his eyes tightly, he muttered, "Let’s not talk about this anymore. Think about Uncle Victor’s offer."
"There’s no need. I’m doing fine now..."
"Do you know what company invested in ’Detectives and Wilderness’? Muse Entertainnt—the company was created specifically for you. Whether you accept or not, it was our gift to you," Lambert Norman interrupted.
When Mary Scott signed the contract, she hadn’t paid much attention to the company na. She only knew it was an erging player with great potential. She hadn’t imagined Muse Entertainnt would be connected to her, much less created for her.
"I..."
"Go rest. I need so ti alone," Lambert Norman cut her off before she could say more.
Originally, he hadn’t planned to present the company to her like this. It was ant to be part of a grand gesture for her twenty-seventh birthday, a prelude to confessing his feelings once more. But that night, David Locke abruptly cut off his call and blocked him, leaving him irrational enough to co here hastily.
Nothing about this was perfect—it was entirely different from his original plan. But he dared not wait any longer.
Past experiences had taught him waiting was futile.
Once back in her hotel room, Mia Anderson rushed in, knocking urgently on the door. "Mary, I heard the investor left you alone with him. What’s going on? He didn’t want anything... improper, did he?"
"Cough cough cough..." Mary Scott had just been talking to soone when Mia’s suggestive remark caused her to choke.
Mia Anderson panicked and rushed over to soothe her coughing fit.
Mary Scott recovered, gave Mia a look full of disdain, and said, "What nonsense are you spouting?"
"Then why did he leave only you behind?" Mia Anderson pressed with curiosity.
Mary Scott glanced at her. "He’s just an old classmate."
"Your old classmate is the boss of Muse Entertainnt? Seriously, Mary, why didn’t you tell us sooner?! We could have switched to Muse Entertainnt ages ago!" Mia Anderson exclaid, already seeing visions of success and a future away from Starlight and its chaos.
"Ha ha." Mary Scott gave her a dry laugh.
Mia Anderson scratched her head. "So, it’s not possible?"
"No need. My contract with them expires in three months; switching isn’t worth the hassle," Mary Scott said, reaching out to ss up Mia’s hair.
Mia Anderson yelped and ducked away from her teasing before rembering the other reason she had co. "By the way, you and Director Locke are trending again. Did you know?"
Mary Scott froze for a mont, then massaged her temples. Although she suspected this might happen after ending her call with David Locke, hearing it confird made her feel a wave of exhaustion.
"What’s the buzz? Are people criticizing us a lot?" Mary Scott asked offhandedly, already knowing that being trending ant drawing criticism, no matter the topic.
This was just how the world worked—there was no way to satisfy everyone.
Mia Anderson hurriedly shook her head. "Most people are actually shipping you two as a couple. Not much hate so far."
"Good. Let it be then," Mary Scott replied, not intending to intervene. The money it would take to remove the trending topic would be better saved up for sothing else.
Mia Anderson glanced at Mary Scott’s indifferent attitude and asked, "Aren’t you going to say sothing about it?"
"What is there to say? In a couple of days, it’ll be replaced by another trending topic," Mary Scott said casually. She used to care whether she was being praised or criticized, but after being humiliated online years ago, she had learned to detach herself from public opinion. People’s words lived on their keyboards and tongues—she could only control how she reacted.
Mia Anderson was unsurprised by Mary Scott’s attitude. After a mont of thought, she realized this wasn’t necessarily a bad situation and decided to monitor the public sentint closely. "Fine, but I’ll keep an eye on the discussions just in case. You should get so rest—tomorrow the program team might give you a hard ti."
"Mm," Mary Scott nodded. After a long day, she was indeed exhausted.
The encounter with Uncle Victor and Lambert Norman had left her emotionally drained, making fatigue hit harder than usual.
When Mia Anderson left, Mary Scott stepped into the bathroom.
She took a hot shower, letting her body relax, but her mind refused to quiet down. The thought of Lambert Norman staying on the sa hotel floor as her made her restless, especially considering how David Locke might react if he knew...
After their reunion, Mary Scott began to see that David Locke was unpredictable—moody and rcurial. If he learned Lambert Norman was the investor behind "Detectives and Wilderness," sharing the sa hotel, not to ntion their brief marriage... Mary Scott couldn’t begin to imagine his response.
Lying on the bed, she hesitated whether to be upfront about everything with David Locke. But as she held her phone, indecision took over, stretching far past midnight. Sleep overtook her in a daze, only to be interrupted by her phone ringing sharply, jerking her awake. She hurried to grab it, saw it was Mia Anderson’s number, and begrudgingly asked, "Do you know what ti it is?"
Mia Anderson was too panicked to care about the ti. "Mary, sothing terrible happened!"
Mary Scott moved the phone slightly away. "What’s so terrible?"
"Your trending topic with Director Locke..."
"We talked about this already. If it’s not too serious, let it be," Mary Scott interrupted.
Mia Anderson, frantic, said, "Listen to ! Your trending topic isn’t just with Director Locke—another person has been dragged in too. Lambert Norman! Do you know him? Isn’t he the investor behind ’Detectives and Wilderness’?"
Mary Scott jolted awake completely. "What does Lambert have to do with this suddenly?"
"An old high school classmate leaked that you dated Director Locke while also getting involved with Lambert Norman. They even posted photos. Mary, what do we do now?" Mia Anderson sounded desperate.
The leaker clearly planned this well. Late-night social dia posts ant imdiate frenzy with no way for PR to diffuse the situation quickly—it was bound to escalate.
"Let take a look," Mary Scott said, her brows furrowing deeply as unease crept in. She hadn’t anticipated Lambert Norman being dragged into this, much less how complicated it might beco.
Ending the call with Mia Anderson, Mary Scott opened her phone and quickly found the trending discussion about her and Director Locke.
Initially, the atmosphere was sowhat positive—many people supported them, even finding their dynamic appealing, with David Locke’s unpredictable personality adding intrigue.
But as ti passed, ghostwriters began steering public opinion negatively, turning netizens against them.
The real crisis ca with the classmate’s explosive allegations, just as Mia Anderson had said.
Scrolling through the most popular post, Mary Scott saw everything laid bare: the classmate recounted their shared high school years, detailed her relationship with David Locke, and described her alleged betrayal. It was articulate and thodical.
None of that was what truly shook Mary Scott.
What frightened her was the ntion of her original na—Moll Scott.
Her hand holding the phone trembled faintly. It wasn’t the accusations that worried her most; it was the possibility that netizens would unearth more about her past—her father, and the infamous hundred-billion-dollar embezzlent case...
The more she scrolled, the more anxious she beca. And then, a sudden, urgent knock on her door snapped her out of her thoughts.
Knock knock knock...
Mary Scott stared in alarm. "Who is it?"
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