Chapter 167: Chapter 165: He Has Always Been a Man Who Stirs My Heart (5)
Nora Ainsworth was slightly taken aback. She had seen Madam Shaw in romance dramas before, and the actress always presented a pure and innocent image to the audience. She never expected her to be like this in real life.
The makeup artist applying Nora Ainsworth’s makeup worked methodically as Madam Shaw continued, "I’m dying to know what kind of connections you have. How else could someone with your sullied reputation sign with Zenith Corporation? I’m also starting to wonder if President Harding’s lost his mind, promoting you so heavily."
"I wouldn’t know. It would be better if you asked President Harding yourself, Shaw."
She snorted. "I can’t be bothered to ask. I can figure it out myself. You just slept your way here, that’s all. As long as a woman has a pretty face and a good figure, it’s quite easy to become some executive’s plaything."
Madam Shaw’s words were harsh, stinging her ears. "You’re right. For someone like you to get this far, Shaw, I can only imagine how many times you had to sleep your way up."
Madam Shaw immediately stubbed out her cigarette and glared at her. "Reckless little brat. You’re nothing but a greenhorn in my eyes, Nora Ainsworth. All I have to do is lift a finger, and I can make sure you’re never seen again."
Nora Ainsworth glanced at her reflection in the mirror and said contemptuously, "Then let me tell you something. You try to act tough in front of me, and I’ll make you grovel for the rest of your life!"
"What big talk!" Madam Shaw sneered. "We’ll just wait and see. Makeup!"
The makeup artist quickly got ready. Nora Ainsworth remained silent. ’I was already prepared for this. Madam Shaw is no easy mark, but so what? I’m not to be trifled with, either. In the past, I just sat there and let them persecute me, but not anymore. I will never again let anyone who deliberately harms me get away with it. So what if it ends in mutual destruction? At the very least, everyone will know that I’m not some pushover they can step on whenever they please!’
"Nora, should we head back to the room and run our lines?" Zeke Marshall asked quietly, seeing that her makeup was done.
Nora Ainsworth nodded. "Alright, Zeke."
The moment she left, Madam Shaw turned to the makeup artist who had done Nora Ainsworth’s face. "You’ve got a lot of nerve, don’t you? How dare you make her look better than me, right in front of my face! What are you trying to pull?"
The makeup artist replied calmly, "She’s naturally beautiful. I was just doing my job to the best of my ability; I didn’t do it intentionally."
"So you’re saying I’m not as beautiful as she is?"
The makeup artist didn’t know how to respond and could only say, "You’re both very beautiful."
Madam Shaw stared at him. "Next time you do her makeup, you’d better hold back. I’ve heard there are techniques to make someone look *more* plain, haven’t you?"
A surge of resentment rose in the makeup artist’s chest. "But if I do that, the director will chew me out immediately. When that happens, will you be there to take responsibility for me, Aria Shaw?"
"You—" Madam Shaw glared at him. "How can a rookie possibly compare to me? Do you not know how to pick a side?"
"I’m just doing my job. Please don’t make things difficult for me."
Madam Shaw could only turn to her own makeup artist. "You do Nora Ainsworth’s makeup next time." Then she looked back at the male makeup artist. "And you, do my makeup. Now!"
The female makeup artist nodded, moved her hands away, and the male makeup artist stepped in to continue applying Madam Shaw’s makeup.
Standing by the doorway, Nora Ainsworth looked down the hall. She said nothing and continued walking ahead with Zeke Marshall.
"Nora, that Madam Shaw is really going too far."
Nora Ainsworth scoffed. "Pay her no mind. I’ll just do my own makeup next time and skip the makeup artist."
"The day you hit the big time, that Madam Shaw can just wait to cry her eyes out. She probably won’t even have a corner to cry in."
Nora Ainsworth just smiled without saying anything more and stepped into the elevator.
’The only way to deal with someone who plays dirty is to be even dirtier yourself. It’s the only truly satisfying way.’
’If Madam Shaw wanted to play dirty, then she would gladly play along until the woman couldn’t take it anymore. Only then would Nora Ainsworth back off.’
Jean Grant hadn’t been under much pressure. Her thesis was a work in progress, not due until the following semester. But now, living under the same roof as Mrs. Marshall had become a daily source of vexation.
These days, Mrs. Marshall was out all day, returning each time laden with shopping bags. She was stingy with everyone else but unbelievably generous with herself.
On several occasions, Jean Grant noticed Mrs. Marshall wearing clothes that cost a thousand or two. Her old one-or-two-hundred-yuan outfits had long been thrown out. She had also started frequenting beauty salons and playing high-stakes mahjong with the other well-to-do women in the community.
This transformation had taken place in just half a month.
That afternoon, Jean Grant came downstairs, intending to go out, only to see four women gathered in the living room playing mahjong. Mrs. Marshall was one of them.
In front of each woman sat a thick stack of hundred-yuan bills.
A quick glance suggested it amounted to several thousand yuan.
Jean Grant said, "Mom, have you gotten addicted to mahjong recently?"
A fashionably dressed wealthy woman sitting next to Mrs. Marshall laughed. "Your mother-in-law is just passing the time. She gets bored to tears being cooped up in this big villa all day. It’s no big deal, Jean. We’re just playing a few hands."
Jean Grant pressed, "Then why not just play for a few dozen yuan?"
"Oh, Jean," another woman at the table chimed in. "Your family is so wealthy. Playing for just a few dozen yuan would be beneath you, wouldn’t it? Go big or go home! We heard from your mother-in-law that this house is worth at least ten million. The rest of us live in apartments, but you’re in a huge villa like this. What’s the point of having money if you don’t spend it?"
Mrs. Marshall waved a dismissive hand at Jean Grant. "Weren’t you heading out? Go on, then."
Jean Grant stood there, a sour taste in her mouth. ’No matter how rich my family is, *I* didn’t earn that money. And my own mother bought this house. What does any of this have to do with Mrs. Marshall?’
’Was the five million I gave her meant to be spent like this?’
"Mom, just a dozen days ago, you were making a huge fuss over a single bowl of leftover rice. How many bowls of rice could you buy with all this gambling money? How come you don’t seem to feel the pinch now?"
Mrs. Marshall slammed a mahjong tile on the table. "I’ll do as I please! It’s none of your business!"
’Those words were so familiar.’
’Jean Grant instantly remembered how she’d once been ready to die just to be with Marlon Marshall. She had said those exact same words to Ethan Ellsworth several times.’
’Ever since she got married, he had vanished from her life. Why did it feel like something was missing from her heart?’
Jean Grant turned and left without another word.
A woman’s voice drifted from behind her. "Marlon’s mom, your daughter-in-law’s family is so wealthy. If you talk to her like that and she gets angry, won’t she kick you out?"
Mrs. Marshall scoffed. "She wouldn’t dare. She was the one who shamelessly chased after my son, paying for everything along the way. As long as my son gives the order, she won’t dare breathe a word against it."
Jean Grant’s fists clenched, a bitter feeling churning in her heart.
Once she was outside the residential complex, Jean Grant found herself missing her unmarried days.
She dialed Zoe Ellsworth’s number.
"Zoe, are you back in the country?"
Zoe Ellsworth’s cheerful voice came over the phone. "I’ve been back for ages! I’m a freshman at the university here now. My mom insisted I return."
"We should meet. I haven’t seen you in forever."
"Sure! Wait for me at the coffee shop—the one right next to Temptation."
「Half an hour later.」
Jean Grant met Zoe Ellsworth at the coffee shop.
"Jean! I haven’t seen you in ages! My mom told me you got married. That was lightning fast! Is married life fun?"
A sad smile touched Jean Grant’s lips. "I’d rather not be married."
Zoe Ellsworth’s smile faded. "You don’t look well. What’s wrong?"
"It’s nothing. I just feel... stifled."
"You’re thinking it was better being single, aren’t you?"
Jean Grant couldn’t deny it. "That’s exactly it."
Zoe Ellsworth sighed. "I used to always think you and my brother should have been together. In my eyes, you two were a perfect match. And since he liked you so much, it would have been the most natural thing in the world. It’s a shame... now you’re married, and he has a girlfriend."
Jean Grant’s hand tightened on the tabletop. "Your brother has a girlfriend? Who is she?"
"His assistant, Chloe Marshall. My sister-in-law."
Jean Grant’s eyes widened in realization. "I remember seeing a news report about them spending the night together at Temptation. So it was true after all."
Zoe Ellsworth looked surprised. "No, I don’t think so. When that story came out, I called my brother to ask if it was real, and he said it wasn’t. I heard they only got together recently. He even brought her home to meet my mom. My mom was absolutely thrilled. She’s nicer to my sister-in-law than she is to me."
"Your mom approves of them?"
Zoe Ellsworth nodded. "Yeah, my mom really likes her. She knows Chloe’s family isn’t well-off, but she said that doesn’t matter as long as our family is. In fact, my brother and my sister-in-law stayed the night at our house the other day."
Jean Grant felt something snap inside her. She asked numbly, "In one room?"
"Yeah, one room. They even had breakfast with us before they left in the morning."
A wave of disappointment washed over Jean Grant. ’It shouldn’t be like this,’ she thought. ’Ethan loved me for over a decade. How could he just move on so easily—’
"So, when are they getting married?"
"I don’t know. My mom’s been poring over the almanac at home every day, trying to pick an auspicious date. She keeps saying the more good news, the better."
Jean Grant’s heart began to race. "Zoe, does your brother love Chloe Marshall?"
"I don’t know. Only he knows for sure if he loves her. But... even though my brother has a reputation as a playboy, he doesn’t actually sleep around. Chloe Marshall is the first woman he’s ever brought home."
"What?" Jean Grant found that hard to believe. "How could she be the first? I heard he’s had tons of girlfriends."
"How could that be?" Zoe Ellsworth was incredulous. "All this time, my brother has been completely devoted to you. Those were just rumors. You actually believed them?"
"Then why did he suddenly get together with Chloe Marshall?"
"Probably because he saw you got married and realized he didn’t have a chance anymore. He was at a loss, so he decided to shift his focus." Zoe’s words were casual, but they hit Jean Grant hard.
"Zoe, what do you think of Chloe Marshall?"
"Her? Well, my first impression wasn’t great. She was dressed in cheap, off-the-rack clothes, and I wondered what my brother saw in a girl like that. But after talking with her, she seemed pretty nice. We’ve only met that one time, though. My brother’s new movie starts filming tonight, so I was planning to go visit the set. It’ll be a good chance to get to know my new sister-in-law a little better."
Jean Grant hesitated, on the verge of saying something. Then, she forced a smile. "I’ve never been to a movie set before. Let me tag along and see what it’s all about."
