Chapter 89
"Mr. Hardy..." The assistant stood frozen for a moment, holding the spare phone. It had only been a week since he had joined, and already he was neck-deep in situations that felt well above his pay grade.
Still, even he had to admit that Marissa was stunning.
The phone screen on the table dimmed and went completely black.
Bryson rubbed his temples in frustration,reached for his work tablet, and tried refreshing the trending feed once more.
It wouldn't load, no matter how many times he refreshed. Whether it was a connection problem or the news itself overwhelming the servers, he couldn't tell.
Finally, he set the tablet aside. "Where's your phone?"
The assistant cursed himself inwardly for not being faster. He should've anticipated this. Hesitantly, he unlocked his personal phone, opened the app, and handed it over. "Here you go, Mr. Hardy."
"Next time, be quicker and more efficient," Bryson said coolly as he took the phone.
"Yes, sir," the assistant muttered, shooting one last mournful look at the phone his girlfriend had just gifted him before diving into switching SIMs and syncing all of Bryson's accounts.
"Did the company forget to pay the internet bill or something?" Bryson asked irritably after yet another failed attempt.
To him, a page that refused to load simply meant no internet connection.
"Uh... no, sir," the assistant murmured after checking. Both data and Wi-Fi were working perfectly fine. Bryson frowned and handed the phone back. "Then why does it just keep refreshing?"
"The server's probably overloaded," the assistant explained quickly. "It happens sometimes when a story blows up online. The tech team at Twitter is likely already fixing it. It should open soon."
He spoke carefully, trying to keep his tone calm while discreetly watching Bryson's expression.
For a moment, Bryson said nothing. He stared at the phone, thumb tapping the screen as if lost in thought. Then, suddenly, he asked, "Did you see that photo earlier?"
The assistant stiffened. This was exactly the kind of question he'd hoped to avoid. He didn't want to get involved in the personal affairs of the rich, or worse,his boss's. But he couldn't lie either. After a few seconds of uneasy silence, he finally replied, "I didn't look too closely, sir. It seemed like a picture of you with Miss Marissa Fletcher, your wife's adopted sister. The one from the hospital."
His palms were damp. He hadn't even been this nervous during his job interview.
Remembering Bryson's rule about not dodging names, he forced himself to say Marissa's outright.
Bryson's jaw tightened. He pressed the side button of the phone repeatedly, the screen flickering on and off in nis hand.
That photo...just how old was it?
It didn't look recent. Someone close to either him or Marissa must've taken it back then.
Could it have been one of his former personal assistants? Both had quit suspiciously close together.
And why release it now of all times?
Bryson's mind raced, but without seeing the comments online, he couldn't predict how the public was reacting.
At last, he spoke in a controlled voice. "Find me a private investigator. Keep monitoring everything online and contact someone to remove the trending post as soon as possible."
The assistant straightened immediately."Understood,Mr.Hardy."
The assistant had almost reached the door when Bryson's voice made him stop in his tracks.
"Wait. Also, make sure anything tied to the Fletcher family gets buried. All of it."
Bryson didn't fully understand Marissa's connection to Marc, but that photo of the two of them had stirred something raw and unfamiliar inside him, like a flash of possessiveness he couldn't quite explain.
He didn't want her linked to anyone else, not until he uncovered everything hidden beneath the surface.
Meanwhile, inside the restroom of Lottie's private makeup studio, the air carried the faint scent of cosmetics and perfume.
Theodore had already seen the trending headlines. Since he hadn't said a word about it, Marissa briefly considered mentioning it herself.
She wasn't too concerned about what he thought.
For now, she was just stepping into her role as Theodore's fiancée, and nothing more.
But as she mulled over her thoughts, Theodore suddenly spoke up. "Do you want me to help you handle the online buzz?"
Marissa blinked, surprised by his offer. Of all moments, she hadn't expected him to bring it up now.
Theodore added quickly, "I wasn't trying to pry into your private matters. I just happened to come across it."
Marissa gave a light smile. "It's fine. No need to trouble yourself over it, Mr. Brooks."
Theodore gave a short nod, his expression unchanged, though his eyes had noticeably cooled. Marissa sensed something off in his demeanor. She parted her lips to speak but then decided against it.
It wasn't the right moment to explain anything, not yet.
When they stepped out of the restroom, the shift in the air was almost tangible. Wilbur stood there with his phone in hand, uncertain whether to keep filming or put it away.
He couldn't understand why the air between them felt so different now compared to earlier.
A deep sense of frustration washed over him, and for reasons he couldn't quite explain, his chest tightened with sadness.
"Mr.Brooks."
The way she spoke-formal, polite, and distant-drew a clear line between them.
Theodore slowed his pace to walk beside her,glancing sideways into her calm, clear eyes. A teasing smile played on his lips. "Miss Curtis," he said smoothly, "don't you think it's time we changed how we address each other?"