Chapter 1578 Lessons Never Learned
Elara fumed as she watched the online narrative shift against her. Without hesitation, she called Lester again.
"Ms. Reed, I can't do this anymore," Lester said, his voice strained. "The higher-ups have given me a warning. I'm sorry, but you'll need to find someone else."
The line went dead before she could respond. Elara stared at her phone in disbelief. How dare a mere agent hang up on her? Her previous politeness had been a courtesy—a reflection of her good breeding—not an invitation for disrespect.
Seething, she immediately contacted the agency's executives, only to be politely but firmly rebuffed the moment Ann's name was mentioned. "We prefer not to get involved in that particular situation," the executive had said with diplomatic caution.
Two rejections in quick succession left Elara's complexion ashen. Watching the online tide turn against Azalea while Ann escaped unscathed made her blood boil.
Her dark mood was interrupted by a call from the Reed family. "We'd like you to attend tonight's gala to meet Paul," the crisp voice informed her. "We'll subtly hint at your relationship. You've only just returned to the country—you should be attending more of these events to reestablish yourself in the right circles."
Her expression transformed instantly into a radiant smile. "Of course, I'd be delighted," she replied, already mentally sorting through her evening gowns.
But the online situation continued to gnaw at her. After hanging up, she made one more call.
When that conversation ended, a satisfied smirk played across her lips.
If Ann dared show her face tonight, she would ensure the woman was thoroughly humiliated.
Meanwhile, Ann was still puzzling over who had come to her defense. She scrolled through her contact list, pausing when she reached Paul's name. He had blocked her long ago, but that didn't stop the familiar flutter of hope.
It was always like this—the slightest possibility and her mind leapt to Paul. She never seemed to learn. Like a dog kicked to the curb that still wags its tail at the first sign of kindness, she remembered only the good, forgetting all the pain he'd caused.
In her heart, she had subtracted points from Paul countless times, watching his score drop below zero, yet one small act of kindness was enough to rocket that score back to perfect. Her finger hovered over his contact, debating whether to attempt reaching out.
Before she could decide, a text from Alex appeared: [The online situation must be Paul's doing. I shared Azalea's livestream with him, and minutes later it was shut down.]
Her heart raced at the words, a cocktail of surprise, joy, and disbelief washing over her. Despite herself, a small smile curved her lips as she typed back a simple reply: [Thank you.]
She knew Alex wasn't truly on her side—he'd played the same games with Selena, stirring up drama for his own amusement rather than out of genuine concern.
She understood his nature perfectly, yet still felt grateful for the information he'd shared.
Just then, her office door opened as her assistant entered with an invitation to that evening's gala. Such events occurred several times a month, sometimes focusing on finance, other times on entertainment—each with its own distinct guest list.
With her spirits lifted, Ann readily accepted. She worked until late afternoon, then allowed her styling team two hours to prepare her for the evening. Her company driver was waiting to take her to the venue.
On the way, she made an unscheduled stop at the hospital. Sophia had collapsed from exhaustion after too many late-night shoots, and Ann needed to check on her personally.
Only after confirming her friend was stable did she continue to the gala, now running significantly behind schedule.
By the time she arrived, the event was in full swing. She had barely stepped inside and exchanged pleasantries with a few partners when a spotlight suddenly illuminated her.
Confused, she froze, gradually becoming aware of the whispers rippling through the crowd nearby.
"Isn't that Ann's mother?" someone murmured.
"Where?" another voice questioned.
"There—the server in the gray uniform."
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