She massaged her temples wearily, “Ignore her. I’m not going downstairs.” Thank goodness, the company was like a tight-knit

family. There had been times when Zoey was verbally lashed by Belinda with even harsher words, and everyone had seen it all

before. They didn’t pry into her personal life, a culture Maja had fostered among them. Zoey was grateful to Maja. In any other

company, as the president’s assistant, such humiliation would have stripped her of any authority. No one would have taken her

seriously. But at Star Movie Group, Mia’s insults were like water off a duck’s back, and the team worked with her as seamlessly

as ever. The more united the company was, the harder Zoey wanted to work, feeling she never did enough. It was like a big

family, all waiting for Maja to return. Cornelia pulled out a few packets of glucose from her bag. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, and

you look pale as a ghost. Go nap in Ms. Pennyfeather’s lounge for half an hour. We’ve got a gala to attend soon.” Zoey paused,

touched by her concern. “I’m fine.” Knowing she couldn’t persuade her, Cornelia dropped the subject. As she turned to leave,

Zoey asked, “You haven’t been hanging around Omar much, have you?” The rumor that Omar was pursuing Cornelia was

already the talk of the town, and everyone took for granted that she was under his protection. The sleazy investors dared not

mess with her, and even the directors treated her with respect. “Not really, but he’s always accompanying me on my set.”

Cornelia frowned, her tone flat, as if Omar was nothing more than a stranger to her. “Zoey, if you run into trouble, tell me. Omar

can be of use. That’s something Ms. Pennyfeather taught me, never be soft when it’s time to leverage. Omar owes me.” Zoey

knew she was referring to Mia. If Omar stepped in, Mia would probably back off. But she didn’t need it. Masochistically, she

hoped Mia would go too far, erasing her lingering affection, possibly letting go of Fitch. But she knew Fitch was rooted deep in

her heart, not easily removed. At eight in the evening, they stepped into a

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stretch Lincoln, arriving at the gala on time. Cornelia and Wilma were all dolled up, while Zoey was in her professional attire. She

had just greeted the screenwriter Coral Albright when she caught sight of Fitch. Tall and distinctive, Fitch towered above the

crowd. Impatiently swirling his wine glass, he exchanged half-hearted greetings before turning away, lost in thought. Zoey’s

animated conversation with Coral suddenly halted, as if she had hit a snag. The company had been working on Coral’s script, a

deal struck before Maja’s departure, a major production that required time. Coral followed Zoey’s gaze and then shook her head.

“Got your sights set on Fitch? That might be tough.” Zoey stiffened, about to deny it, then thought better of it. Coral clinked her

glass against Zoey’s. “Back in the day, Tyler tried to set me up with Ian. Ian couldn’t care less about women, but Fitch? It’s not

just indifference, but it’s disdain, probably tied to his childhood traumas.” Zoey felt like she’d unwittingly stumbled upon a secret,

her gaze locking with Coral’s. Coral chuckled softly, adding, “He was kidnapped as a kid, and encountered some deranged older

women. He was just a boy, maybe in his teens. Probably avoided the sex, but they did take advantage of him. Those women had

a thing for young boys. The Haskins family found him three days later, lying in a pool of blood, not his, the women’s. A kid, taking

out three women. No one knows how he did it, and nobody dares to ask.” After a glance around, she leaned in closer. “I

shouldn’t gossip, but you seem to really like him. His attitude towards women is just that way, never heard of anyone who’s

managed to share his bed.”

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