Chapter 511
Chapter 511:
Without hesitation, the paparazzo dialed the number, his hands shaking. As soon as the tow truck arrived, the two wrecked cars were quickly loaded up. Fernanda and the paparazzo climbed in, but his trembling wouldn’t stop. A fresh wave of fear washed over him, stronger than before.
What was Fernanda up to? She had chased him down, cornered him, and then released him, only to instruct him to sell the story.
Why? What did she want from him?
She wasn’t a minor celebrity desperate for publicity. What could her real motive be?
Despite the questions swirling in his mind, he didn’t dare ask. There was something about Fernanda that radiated power, a presence that commanded respect—like a forceful leader who should not be crossed.
As they neared Dawn Villas, Fernanda spoke again, her tone calm but unwavering. “In three days, I want to see that story published. Got it? And don’t breathe a word about tonight to anyone. If you do, your payment disappears.”
The paparazzo nodded fervently.
When Fernanda stepped out of the car, she offered him a look of calm assurance.
His heart raced, threatening to burst from his chest.
Only after Fernanda was out of sight did he finally release the breath he had been holding, his body unwinding from its tense state. It was then that he realized his back was soaked with cold sweat, his clothes clinging to him uncomfortably.
That had been too much. Had he just crossed paths with a demon?
Once Fernanda exited the car, she made her way toward the Morgan family villa. Her coat was pulled tightly around her, the brisk pace matching her determined stride. Behind her, the hem of her dress fluttered, briefly exposing her bare legs. A shiver ran through her, prompting her to pull the coat even closer.
Her thoughts then shifted to the paparazzo. What kind of story would the studio write about her, she wondered. This was all part of her plan to uncover the people operating in the shadows, though she had no intention of sharing that with him. For now, she would simply wait and watch.
Upon her return to the Morgan residence, Fernanda found the house enveloped in quiet, signaling that everyone had likely turned in for the night. She stepped into her room and spotted a cup of water on the table, still radiating a gentle warmth. Holding the cup with both hands, she savored each slow sip, appreciating the thoughtfulness behind it. In this home, only Ector showed such genuine care.
Lᴬtєѕτ chᴀρτєrs ιn g𝓪lɴovєl𝓈.𝒸о𝓂
The warmth from the water spread soothingly through her as she changed into her pajamas and freshened up in the bathroom. Lost in thought, she wished Curran would ease up on Cristian. Initially, she had found Curran quite endearing, easy to talk to and full of old-world charm. Bobby had his reservations about Curran, pointing out a few quirks and flaws. Yet, meeting him in person had left a favorable impression on her.
With a soft sigh, Fernanda decided to let those thoughts drift away. After all, she couldn’t sway how others felt.
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