Chapter 376: Chapter 376: Can’t Fight
The producer smugly nodding his head, then shifting his gaze towards Hannah.
Hannah, hand propping her cheek, twirled her teacup and raised her hand, letting it circle a few times on the table before landing back down onto it. "The words sure are nicer than the singing. Ah, Mr. Landon mentioned that you’re tone-deaf, right? Why don’t you sing me a piece?"
Her brows curved up, appearing like a playful young master at a teahouse, an aura of lazy whimsicality surrounding her.
Tiffany Lynch clutched her chest, her hand tightly gripping her shirt, her face deathly pale, about to burst with rage, when she was stopped by the producer.
"Let’s discuss the plotlines instead."
Hannah glanced at him. "Who said I would agree?"
Shipping her with someone else?
Her sugar daddy would get jealous if he saw this.
Moreover, she wasn’t stupid enough to get paired with someone she so detested.
Absurd.
This time, even the producer couldn’t hold Tiffany back. She slammed her palm on the table, livid. "Hannah Winter, are you messing with me on purpose?"
Would she stoop so low as to ship herself with a disgraceful wretch despite her standing, if not only to clear her tarnished reputation?
How ridiculous! She was the Eldest Miss of the prestigious Lynch Family.
That Hannah Winter was nothing but a lowly commoner, even the most disgraceful kind at that. In essence, she was just a mistress stand-in!
"Ah!" Hannah, covering her mouth to laugh, "So you’re not blind after all? You can see that I’m teasing you."
Her laughter was pleasant to the ears, like the sound of a spring trickling down, except her eyes were filled with unhidden malice.
Upon closer examination, her eyes were akin to a whirlpool on the sea floor— any slight carelessness could pull one into its depths to their doom.
Tiffany turned blue with anger. Her fists clenched tightly, her chest heaving dramatically, her face darkened as if preparing to devour someone.
The producer, almost scared stiff by the sight of her, quickly excused himself.
As Hannah pushed the door open, Tiffany finally burst out. "Hannah Winter, stop right there!"
Hannah turned around, leaning against the door. "What’s the matter? Failed at forcing your way, and now resorted to physical coercion?"
Right after her words fell, a teacup was flying towards her.
Hannah frowned, tilting her head to dodge.
The piercing sound of the shattered porcelain by her ear echoed throughout the room.
Even the producer stopped his retreating steps, turning back to look. Taking a glance almost nearly cost him his life.
Biting her tongue slightly, she felt a twinge of pain, prompting Hannah to gently touch her cheek.
Her pale fingertips stained a touch of red, emanating a faint scent of blood. The color of blood mirrored her dark eyes, turning it into an apparent threat.
She lifted her head, glancing at the stupefied Tiffany.
A tranquil yet chilling gaze.
"I... I didn’t mean to." Tiffany staggering a bit, "It was you! If you didn’t provoke me, I wouldn’t have thrown it. Besides, you dodged it, it’s just a small cut, you’re not hurt"
"Just a small cut?" Hannah’s lips curved up coldly.
The smile no longer possessed peach blossom-like charm, but a chilling plum blossom blooming amidst winter. Amid the snow-white world, a splash of red.
A staggering and eerie beauty that was extremely vivid.
[Master, you cannot use physical force! The female lead cannot die, or the plot will collapse!]
Hannah chuckled lightly. "Who said I was going to touch her?"
The one contemplating on playing the mediator was dumbfounded at Hannah’s remark.
