Chapter 103
Chapter 103:
Her thoughts raced to Fernanda, considering calling for help, but the risks quickly halted her. Fernanda’s identity couldn’t be exposed, and her injury meant she wasn’t in any position to intervene.
Resigned, Wendy clamped her lips shut as Bobby opened his car door, practically ushering her inside.
Fernanda observed the tussle from a distance. Unlike before, Bobby’s actions didn’t cross the line into harm, leaving her uncertain about stepping in—she didn’t want to appear intrusive.
This time was different. Both Bobby and Wendy were sober, fully aware of their actions. Fernanda reasoned that, as adults, they should be left to resolve their own matters.
The sound of Bobby’s car engine filled the air, and Fernanda sighed, retreating to a bench beneath the glow of a streetlamp.
She pulled out her phone, scrolling idly. All news articles about Ava’s scandal had vanished.
The Ross family’s efficiency in cleaning up the scandal was nothing short of remarkable, erasing every trace as if it had never existed. But even their swift moves couldn’t undo the damage. The lingering whispers of negativity remained etched in people’s minds.
“Having a PR team would be incredibly useful,” Fernanda mused aloud, her lips curving into a thoughtful smile. “With the way the media is evolving, there’s potential for something big.”
The idea sparked something in her—a curiosity, a possibility. Reclining on the bench, she closed her eyes, the warmth of the sunlight seeping into her skin.
Her mind, sharp as always, began mapping out plans for a future venture in the media world.
She envisioned strategies, timelines, and the heights she could reach, each thought further fueling her determination.
Unknown to her, a shadow crept over her, dulling the sunlight. It wasn’t until the absence of warmth registered that her eyes fluttered open, startled.
L∆tєѕt chαptєrs ιn g𝒶lnovєl𝑠.𝑐ᴏm
A plain black umbrella hovered above her.
Her eyes traveled upward, finding the hand holding it belonged to an unfamiliar young man. He appeared no older than twenty, with chestnut hair that gleamed faintly under the light.
He wore rimless glasses that framed warm, intelligent eyes. A faint mole at the corner of one eye added a unique charm to his features.
“Oh, you’re awake,” he said, a small sigh of relief escaping him. His smile was gentle, polished, and sincere. “I was worried you weren’t feeling well and wondered if I should wake you.”
“Thank you,” Fernanda replied simply, her voice calm. “I’m fine.” Instead of leaving, the young man settled onto the bench beside her, still holding the umbrella above her.
.
.
.