Chapter 510

Chapter 510:

“Which studio are you planning to sell these to?” Fernanda asked, her voice steady.

“Well, a friend of mine has been approached by a studio asking for any gossip about Cristian.”

“Oh? Gossip about Cristian?” Fernanda’s interest piqued. It seemed the target wasn’t her after all, but Cristian.

“Which studio was this?” she pressed.

He shook his head frantically. “I don’t know. I didn’t press my friend for details. I just planned to hand the photos over and split the money with him. Honestly, I didn’t think about it much.” The tension was clear in the paparazzo’s demeanor.

Though he’d worked in this business for years, dealing with close calls and narrow escapes, nothing had ever shaken him like the high-speed chase he found himself in tonight.

Caught in the act, the paparazzo found himself powerless. With no escape or means to resist, he had no choice but to yield.

Fernanda fell silent, contemplating her next move. If she forced him to call his friend and inquire about the studio now, there was no guarantee his friend would offer any useful information. People like them were experts at keeping secrets.

As such, she decided to take a different approach. Handing the camera back to him, Fernanda said coldly, “Go ahead and follow through with your plan—sell the photos to your friend.”

The paparazzo stared at her, clearly bewildered. Panic set in as he thought this had to be a trap!

“No, no!” he stammered, frantic as he waved his hands. “I made a mistake! I’ll delete them right now!”

Before he could hit the delete button, Fernanda’s hand shot out, stopping him in his tracks.

“No,” she said with a calm smile. “Just follow through with your plan. Send those photos to your friend and sell them to whoever you intended. Let’s pretend tonight never happened.”

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The paparazzo was lost in confusion. How could he simply erase what had occurred? His car, wrecked and abandoned, was still there as a reminder of the chaos.

“Just listen to me,” Fernanda continued, her smile widening. “Do you understand?”

The paparazzo swallowed hard. Her eyes, glinting under the moonlight, felt as though they were cutting through him. He could almost feel the cold, deadly precision of her gaze.

Each time Fernanda’s smile grew, the more he shrank under its weight. “Got it,” he mumbled, his voice small.

“Good,” Fernanda said, patting his shoulder with an air of finality. “Now, call the tow truck company.”

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