Chapter 337
The atmosphere grew tense, the air thick with silence.
hen, Maurice broke into laughter. The sharp glint in his brown eyes betrayed a flicker of
musement.
for a moment, Abbie felt relief wash over her–had she guessed correctly?
ut before she could fully exhale, Maurice’s laughter ceased abruptly, replaced by a slow, eliberate response. “You guessed wrong.”
His words were as calm as they were decisive.
wo men stepped forward, each grabbing one of Abbie’s arms. Dragged toward the estate
ates,
her face paled in disbelief. Was she wrong? Was Maurice really not planning revenge on elicia? That didn’t make sense!
Mr. Glovers!” she shouted desperately, struggling against their grip. “Are you seriously oing to let Felicia go after what she did to you?”
er words hung in the air unanswered.
The heavy gates creaked open, and without another word, the men tossed her onto the dirt oad outside.
Not far away, behind the cover of some trees, a car sat idling. Inside, two paparazzi, who had een camping out for days in hopes of catching a juicy story involving the infamous Glovers amily, perked up at the sudden movement.
one of them exclaimed, “Finally! Something’s happening!”
Wait, is that just a maid?” the other asked, puzzled.
Who cares? Maybe she knows something. Let’s talk to her and see if we can get a lead.”
xcitedly, the two paparazzi approached Abbie.
ressed in a maid’s uniform, Abbie kept her head habitually low, a reflex born from the scars. hat marred her once beautiful face. Her pupils constricted in panic, especially now, when she vas flanked by two paparazzi. She turned and bolted, desperate to avoid being photographed hher current state.
Hey, miss! Why are you running?” one of the paparazzi called after her, his voice sharp and ncredulous.
hat single “miss” froze Abbie in her tracks for a split second, her footsteps faltering just nough for the two men to exchange a glance of confusion.
The paparazzi immediately sprang into action, their instincts sharp. “Hey, miss! You work for
the Glovers family, don’t you? Have you seen a certain actress here–a big star, Abbie? She blew up a few months ago…“‘
As he prattled on, his partner grabbed his arm, cutting him off mid–question.
“What are you doing? I wasn’t done!” he snapped, irritated.
But his partner’s eyes remained fixed on the maid in front of them. His expression shifted from confusion to dawning realization before he muttered in disbelief, “She looks like… Abbie.
“What?” The first paparazzo froze, his jaw slack.
Their eyes bored into Abbie, scrutinizing her scarred face as if trying to reconstruct the superstar she once was.
Panicking, Abbie shoved them aside and bolted, running as fast as she could.
Not long ago, she had held all the power. She was an actress bathed in the limelight, with every screen and poster bearing her flawless image. Fans adored her, rivals envied her, and even the most influential bowed in deference.
But now? Her ears were filled with phantom echoes of laughter and cruel jeers. The mocking tones of those who once envied her cut through her mind like a knife. Her face was destroye her beauty a thing of the past.
Even these so–called eagle–eyed paparazzi hadn’t recognized her right away.
Abbie broke down. It only took her a moment of greed–a single wrong choice–and she ended up so miserably. There was no going back either.
