Chapter 225 Running Into Him Again
Ann stood there at a loss, her beautiful eyes red with emotion.
She forced a polite smile, "Sorry for the intrusion," and then hurried to her car, quickly leaving the area.
Eddy breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Holly with a grin.
"Don't I get some praise?"
Holly bit off a mouthful of noodles.
"Why should I?"
Holly Weiss scrunched her nose furiously, heading back inside to continue her meal.
Eddy followed her, trying to charm her, asking, "So, can you come back home with me? My parents found out I have a girlfriend yesterday, and you've got to make an appearance, right?"
Without a second thought, Holly Weiss flatly refused, "No way."
She and Eddy were just pretended lovers; that facade might work with the younger crowd but not with, the older generation – they were sharp-eyed. Wouldn't that be a disaster if they were to be found out? Besides, Holly Weiss had no desire to get entangled with Eddy's family.
Eddy parted his lips to speak, but Holly Weiss cut him off, "Don't you think of threatening me again, Eddy, or you might push me too far."
Hearing her call him out by name, Eddy realized this was likely a dead end. He sighed, running his fingers through her hair. "Alright then."
When there was a real emotional foundation between him and Holly Weiss, he'd ask her to visit his home.
After her meal, Holly Weiss curled up on the couch, scrolling through the news. Annoyingly, she caught sight of a familiar name—Juliet Weaver. Briefly checking the article, it seemed that during an awards show the night before, Juliet had taken advantage of Grace's headline-making red carpet moment, triggering an angry response from Grace's fans and causing a stir on the trending topics.
"People with the last name Weaver really have no shame, do they? Snatching our Grace's headline moment?"
"I can't believe it. It's true what they say—shameless people are invincible!"
"Disgusting, I feel sick…"
Amid the uproar, in the wee hours of the morning, a message from James popped up, "This was an internal company arrangement. Please don't bring the artists into it."
While reading this, some people started to ask, "Are they trying to use our Grace to boost Juliet Weaver’s popularity?"
"Our Grace isn't someone you can just use like that!"
"So this is how you operate?"
"Emm, I don't know what you're ranting about. Wasn't Grace the same when she started out?"
"Yeah, yeah, isn't it normal for artists from the same company to help each other out? After all, they cross paths every day."
"Grace hasn't commented. Aren't you fans just drawing negative attention to her?"
The tide turned as if someone had hired a brigade to shift the momentum, and the number of people slamming Juliet Weaver dropped significantly.
Unc unconcerned with the online squabble, Grace was focused on preparing for the evening's celebration. The venue was a secluded estate on the Upper West Side—scenic and isolated.
"Miss Curtis, someone is looking for you outside."
Grace hummed acknowledgment and stepped outside to see a car parked there. Approaching the vehicle, she found a person inside wearing a baseball cap, head bowed so low it was hard to discern their features. A hand reached out, offering a white packet.
"Miss Curtis, be careful with the dosage," the person cautioned.
Grace’s slender fingers casually grasped the packet and slipped it into her bag.
"Don’t worry about it," she replied confidently.
As the evening sky darkened, the lights of the grand estate shone brightly. Numerous luxury cars pulled into parking spots, discharging influential figures from the upper echelons of society.
They carried gifts to the waiting staff at the door and then checked in with their invitations.
Vito Curtis sat in the lobby, radiating happiness and pride.
Emma stood behind him, constantly on tiptoe, searching for Luann Weaver’s presence.
"Why hasn’t my sister arrived yet..." she murmured to herself, pulling out her cell phone and surreptitiously tapping away.
Vito Curtis caught the motion in the corner of his eye, and his voice took on a stern edge. "Emma, that’s rude."
Her lips pouted as she cooed, "Grandpa, I just want to ask when Luann will come."
"Go on, ask her," he relented, softening his earlier reproach.
Emma sent the message, and within minutes, Luann Weaver replied, "Out eating, will be there later."
With innocent curiosity, Emma suggested, "But we have food here too. You and your husband could come to eat!"
"No rush, there’s still plenty of time," Luann responded.
With two hours to go before the celebration began, arriving early would just mean watching Grace show off. Better to make a fashionably late entrance.
Setting her phone aside, Luann Weaver gazed at the strikingly handsome man before her, frowning in concern.
"Aren’t you being too brazen? What if someone snaps a picture of you?"
Myron Curtis wasn’t worried. "Besides the people close to me, most people have no idea what I look like. My photos have never been circulated."
"And those who might know are already at the estate."
Luann Weaver nodded thoughtfully. He had a point.
Myron Curtis had a reputation throughout the Upper West Side for being fierce and unsightly to the point of disgust, yet no one had any pictures to prove it. It was all hearsay.
Even if Myron Curtis walked openly on the streets, he would attract glances from women, but no one would recognize him.
But Myron Curtis didn't think too deeply about it. In his mind, it was about the scar—he felt it was far too ugly, and he wanted to give his wife every chance to see his better side.
Otherwise, there were simply too many rich young men coming tonight. If she gets charmed away by someone else, what would she do?
After dinner, Myron Curtis got up to pay the bill.
"Wait for me by the car."
"Okay."
They went their separate ways.
Myron approached the front desk and handed over his card.
While waiting for the transaction to complete, numerous glances fell his way.
Clad in a sleek black suit, perfectly tailored, his chiseled features were flawless, giving off an aura of neatness.
Such a man couldn't help but draw attention.
Among those gazes, a soft, incredulous voice murmured.
"It’s him..."
Juliet Weaver covered her red lips in surprise, her pretty eyes gleaming with the thrill of spotting her quarry.
She recalled this man! She had spotted him at a bar when she was drunk! And she had clumsily ended up in his embrace!
Who would've thought he'd be so unromantic, rejecting her without any mercy? Judging by his demeanor and expensive Italian suit, Juliet Weaver knew he was no ordinary man.
Juliet Weaver lost her appetite in an instant, hurrying to wipe her mouth, trying to approach the man for a chat.
