Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

Chapter 158: Chapter 158: Throwing Herself into Quentin Blackwood’s Embrace and Hugging His Waist

’Why is Quentin Blackwood so relentless? I seem to run into him everywhere I go!’

’Is it really this easy to have a chance encounter with a powerful man?’

’Don’t powerful men have work to do?’

Aside from Nina Scott, Quentin Blackwood was the only person here who had ever seen her true face.

Ivy Sherwood wasn’t sure if Quentin Blackwood had seen her. She still had the scarf over her face, so he might not have recognized her.

’Besides, my current identity isn’t Ivy Sherwood. It wouldn’t really matter even if he did see me.’

Ivy Sherwood quickly returned backstage and started changing into her next outfit.

Her hair had been down before, but that style was clearly unsuitable for this outfit. The stylist used a wooden hairpin to sweep Ivy Sherwood’s long hair into an updo.

This gave Ivy Sherwood an added touch of gentle grace, a complete departure from her previous aura.

When Ivy Sherwood walked out, she was noticeably more nervous than before.

Her gaze was involuntarily drawn to Quentin Blackwood up ahead, making her movements feel horribly unnatural.

The moment she emerged for the second time, Quentin Blackwood looked up, and their eyes met directly.

Thankfully, he quickly retracted his gaze, seeming completely unfazed.

This allowed Ivy Sherwood to breathe a sigh of relief. ’Perhaps Quentin Blackwood didn’t recognize me.’

Ivy Sherwood readjusted her mindset. Once she was no longer as nervous, she smoothly completed her walk in the second outfit, then went backstage to change into the third.

Ivy Sherwood’s three outfits were all in different styles. The only thing they had in common was the veil on her face, which she never once took off.

But this didn’t detract from the clothes at all. On the contrary, because Ivy Sherwood’s face was hidden, it made people focus on her clothes as much as they did her face.

Each outfit was so perfectly suited to her, one could see the designer’s dedication.

Aside from discussing Ivy Sherwood, quite a few people were also talking about the designer of the clothes.

Watching from below, Nina Scott was extremely satisfied. She knew it—Ivy Sherwood would be able to achieve the exact effect she was looking for!

Ivy would never let her down. She’s just too beautiful. My Ivy is the best-looking one here.

Ivy Sherwood’s task was complete. Back in the dressing room, she sat there, unable to believe she had actually become a model and walked a runway show.

Ivy Sherwood hadn’t noticed anyone else in attendance; all her attention had been on Quentin Blackwood.

’Thankfully, I don’t think I messed it up.’

There was no one else in the dressing room. Just as Ivy Sherwood was lost in thought, the door was pushed open.

"Nin—" Ivy Sherwood had only gotten one syllable out when she saw the visitor and panicked.

The man shut the door, and suddenly, they were the only two in the dressing room.

Quentin Blackwood strode in and spoke. "What, has Miss Summers forgotten me?"

Hearing the name "Miss Summers," Ivy Sherwood froze for a moment. Then she remembered—the last time she’d met Quentin Blackwood with her real face, she had told him her name was Wendy Summers.

"President Blackwood is so unforgettable. Of course I remember."

Clearly, the man had no intention of letting her off that easily. "Is that so? How unforgettable, exactly?"

Ivy Sherwood: "..."

She had only been making a polite comment.

"I didn’t expect President Blackwood would come to a fashion show. I thought you were in Lustre. And, this is a shared dressing room. Other people will be coming in soon. It doesn’t seem appropriate for you to be here, President Blackwood."

Quentin Blackwood’s gaze landed on Ivy Sherwood’s face. She had makeup on, accentuating her fair, tender skin. She hadn’t taken off her silk scarf yet, and up close, her eyes looked even more beautiful.

Her long eyelashes weren’t fake; she wasn’t wearing any mascara, but they were so curled and full they looked longer than artificial ones.

The area around her eyes was dusted with shimmering, reddish eyeshadow, making her look like a little vixen with red-rimmed eyes. Quentin Blackwood was beginning to understand what it meant to be both demure and bewitching.

She looked like a spoiled little princess, a delicate, coddled creature, yet she was utterly captivating.

Quentin Blackwood knew he shouldn’t be here. The show hadn’t even ended, but the moment Ivy Sherwood left the stage, he had followed her backstage.

"I saw an acquaintance and just came to say hello. Only, I wasn’t aware Miss Summers’ profession was modeling."

"It’s not. I’m just helping a friend," Ivy Sherwood said.

Quentin Blackwood stood right in front of Ivy Sherwood. He raised his hand and grabbed a corner of the silk scarf.

With a single pull, the scarf fell from Ivy Sherwood’s face, revealing the lower half.

Even though he knew what Ivy Sherwood truly looked like, the sight was still utterly breathtaking.

Ivy Sherwood didn’t expect Quentin Blackwood to snatch off her scarf and instinctively tried to cover her face.

But then she thought, ’It’s not like Quentin Blackwood has never seen my face. Who knows what this man is trying to do?’

Quentin Blackwood’s gaze fell on her nose, then on her lips.

Thinking about how many people had seen Ivy Sherwood tonight, and how many of them were now lusting after her, a sense of irritation washed over Quentin Blackwood.

When he was displeased, Ivy Sherwood was the one who suffered. It was time to make her panic a little.

His Adam’s apple bobbed. He spoke deliberately, "Miss Summers’ voice sounds a bit familiar."

Ivy Sherwood’s heart clenched, and her eyes filled with panic.

She hadn’t had many opportunities to meet Quentin Blackwood as her true self, and a person’s voice isn’t that easy to change.

The next second, she heard Quentin Blackwood say, "Like my niece-in-law."

Ivy Sherwood: "!"

Afraid of being discovered, Ivy Sherwood put on a higher-pitched voice, and the smile on her lips looked stiff.

What she didn’t know was that Quentin Blackwood enjoyed watching this very expression on her face.

"Is that so? Voices can sound similar sometimes. After all, there are people who look alike, too."

Ivy Sherwood knew it. Nothing good ever came from running into Quentin Blackwood!

Ivy Sherwood’s voice actually had a unique quality; it was the type that was very pleasant to listen to.

Now that she was deliberately altering her pitch, it sounded even more delicate and soft.

The curve of Quentin Blackwood’s lips deepened. "What a coincidence. How about I call her and let you hear for yourself just how similar your voices are."

As he said this, Quentin Blackwood took out his phone.

Ivy Sherwood’s heart nearly leaped out of her chest. ’What does Quentin Blackwood mean by this? Has he figured out that I’m Ivy Sherwood?’

"President Blackwood!" Ivy Sherwood quickly grabbed the hand he was using to dial. "Let’s not, shall we?"

"You’re right. Miss Summers must be from Lustre as well, yes? When there’s an opportunity in the future, I’ll arrange for you two to meet."

Ivy Sherwood: "..."

Ivy Sherwood prayed for someone to come and save her. ’Where’s Nina? Why hasn’t Nina come in yet?’

’No, wait, it can’t be Nina.’

’If Nina shows up, Quentin Blackwood might connect this to our first meeting at the Scott Family’s banquet. If he figures out I’m Nina Scott’s friend, my identity will be in jeopardy.’

’Nina, please don’t come back now.’ Ivy was now hoping for anyone, absolutely anyone, to come in and break the current atmosphere between her and Quentin Blackwood.

It was as if the heavens had heard Ivy Sherwood’s thoughts. Just then, someone knocked on the door.

Before a second knock could land, however, the person outside impatiently turned the doorknob.

The man outside gave a sleazy chuckle. "Well hello there, Miss."

Ivy Sherwood recognized the man in an instant. Charlie Rhodes!

’Why is Charlie Rhodes here too!’

She had wished for someone to come, but that person was definitely not Charlie Rhodes!

The malicious look in Charlie Rhodes’s eyes made Ivy Sherwood realize something. She threw herself into Quentin Blackwood’s arms, wrapping her hands around his waist and burying her face in his chest. "President Blackwood, help me."