Facade of Love

Chapter 150

Chapter 150 You don’t get to tell me what to do

Gossip about the rich and famous always garnered attention, and just the headline alone was enough to get everyone clicking. The article practically spelt out that it was dishing the dirt on Moore and me While the Scotts‘ Group might not stretch across the globe like the Youngs, we had plenty of clout and projects back home. Once the story with our names hit the web, it shot straight to the top of the trending list

The article was so clear–cut and hit so close to home that the comment section turned into a firing squad aimed at Moore.

After reading the piece, netizens could not stop themselves from chiming in.

Netizen A posted, “Scumbags come in all flavors, and Miss Scott here is the latest brand of female

lowlife.”

Netizen B clapped back, “Watch your mouth up there. Read the fine print. She’s adopted, so she’s not

a true Scott.”

Netizen C added, “This just goes to show, you can’t just take in someone else’s kid. Bad genes only breed trouble, and no amount of effort can turn a bad seed good.

her before she started eyeing their billions.

life’s gripes, spilled out through their keyboards, hurling the nastiest insults they could

went as far as to dox Moore, unearthing private moments between her and Idris, along

heard–somewhere tales of her trying to lure him in.

station, where her own mother was tearing into her, all caught on camera and now blasted

with her name plastered across

all sorts of crazy things to snag

were dishing dirt about her college days at Mandala, like hooking up with an

this wild story about her trying to charm a big shot’s son in Mandala, but ending up getting ditched in the street without her clothes

bit of gossip, whether it was true or not, was being dug up by the online

I handed Idris’s phone back to him and massaged my temples. “I didn’t start this fire,” I told him. He had not asked, but by the way he brought it up, it was like he was fishingfor an answer.

who else would have it out for Moore like I

he locked eyes with me, his l*ps a tight line. “I know that,”

short, puzzled. If he knew I was not behind it, why

have caught the question in my eyes because he arched an eyebrow and said, “If you really wanted to take her down, you would not have

it so coolly and easily that it took me a second to catch up. I stared

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