A cold, deep voice called from inside, “Come in.”

Holding a folder, Hans entered the office. “Mr. President, you instructed us to intercept any negative media exposure concerning Miss Xanthea. Today, the company intercepted a set of photos, but I’m not sure if they qualify as negative news?”

At the mention of “Xanthea,” the man signing contracts behind the desk suddenly paused.

Orion slowly lifted his head, “What?”

Hans took out the photos from the folder, placing them neatly before him.

In the photos, Xanthea was seen giving Benjamin a gift, the two of them looking at each other and smiling: Benjamin courteously shielding Xanthea from a car door, careful not to let her bump her head; at a cast dinner, Benjamin making his way through the crowd, his gaze towards Xanthea filled with ambiguous affection, and more.

Orion picked up the last photo of the two sweetly embracing. His dark eyes brewed a storm, almost piercing a hole through the man’s silhouette in the photo.

“Have they been verified?”

seem encased in ice,

our tech department. The photos are unaltered originals, and the whistleblower

hoarse and terrifying, his fingers white–knuckled around the

night, at Sunset Hills Estates, apartment

47, when looking into each

“Isn’t this too much?”

written,

indeed harder than scientific

the entertainment industry? Why did she agree to act in a romance

desk, Benjamin couldn’t help but

lot of attention, but it’s not easy to excel–it requires continuous learning

need to excel; she

nce scene.

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

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