Reborn as Mr.CEO’s Fat Wife -
Chapter 902: Sister, Your Husband Treats You So Well
Chapter 902: Chapter 902: Sister, Your Husband Treats You So Well
Jocelyn Spencer’s advertising contract was delivered to Rose Valley in the evening.
Mary Scott meticulously reviewed it and directly requested a 50% advance payment.
Jocelyn Spencer received a call from her assistant and was livid, but Mary Scott was adamant, leaving Jocelyn no choice but to grit her teeth and agree. "Fine, wait for it."
Ten minutes later, Mary Scott saw three million deposited into her bank account. Cheerfully, she signed the contract and smiled as she sent off Jocelyn’s visibly upset manager assistant.
As soon as the door closed, Mary Scott joyfully made a victory sign at her brother upstairs.
Seeing his sister so happy, Alfred Scott’s face lit up as well, though he was still a bit concerned. "Sis, hasn’t your manager always been harsh on you? Could there be any issues this time?"
"I looked into that variety show; it has some risks but is within an acceptable range. Don’t worry; it’s still a show, and the production team values safety even more than the guests do. No one can afford to mess up. As for why the payment is so high, it’s likely not because Jocelyn Spencer treats me kindly—probably more due to the recent hype surrounding my public connection with Director Locke. The production team likely zeroed in on me because of that. These trending variety shows love chasing heat." Mary Scott analyzed calmly, then added confidently that the production team’s offer was surely much higher than what she received; otherwise, Jocelyn wouldn’t have agreed so easily.
"Alright, but you still need to stay safe," Alfred Scott said, knowing his sister had already signed the contract, making further comments futile. He asked curiously, "Did the news about your marriage to my brother-in-law come out?"
Mary Scott, "..."
She suddenly remembered she had banned her brother from using his phone after his surgery. Apparently, he really didn’t know about the uproar surrounding her relationship with David Locke.
"Mm, your brother-in-law made it official," Mary Scott explained casually, then warned, "Don’t go looking it up on your phone, okay?"
"I won’t," Alfred Scott nodded obediently.
Mary Scott secretly breathed a sigh of relief. "Get some rest early. I’ll go pack my bags."
"I’ll help you," Alfred Scott said, starting to move toward his sister, but Mary Scott waved him off. "No need, I don’t have much stuff to pack."
Then she suddenly thought of something: Earlbind was an especially cold city, and she barely had any thick winter clothes. Buying new ones now would take extra time. Just as she was fretting, the doorbell unexpectedly rang.
Mary Scott was puzzled—had Jocelyn Spencer regretted her earlier stance? She approached the door with curiosity and saw an exceptionally polished and professional-looking woman on the video monitor. "May I ask who you are?"
Had it not been for the woman’s business attire, Mary Scott might have suspected she was one of David Locke’s mistresses coming to stir up trouble.
"Is this Mr. Locke’s residence? We’re here at his request to deliver some items," the professionally dressed woman answered politely.
Mary Scott opened the door, only to find five men following the woman, each carrying a large box. She was a bit dumbfounded. "What is this...?"
"Mr. Locke instructed us to deliver these. Please have Lady Locke check and accept them," the woman replied courteously and gestured to the staff behind her. The five men immediately began opening the boxes.
Mary Scott stepped forward and glanced at the contents. "Are you sure David Locke sent these?"
"Of course—they were personally selected by Mr. Locke," the salesperson answered with a wide smile. This was the largest order she’d ever received since starting her job, so her attitude was impeccable. She continued warmly, "Where would Lady Locke like these placed?"
Mary Scott, still somewhat stunned, instinctively pointed upstairs. She watched the group carry the boxes up to the second floor, where the saleswoman swiftly started arranging all the garments.
It didn’t take long for the once-empty walk-in closet to be filled to the brim. Watching the scene unfold, Mary Scott sent off the staff with a complicated expression. Taking out her phone, she debated asking David Locke about the situation, but the phone rang first.
"Have you tried them?" David Locke’s voice sounded casual the moment she picked up.
Mary Scott stared at the wardrobe filled with clothes and bags—all luxury brands. The items were the epitome of understated elegance, with no flashy logos. Even the simplest piece cost over sixty thousand.
"What are you doing?" Mary Scott asked, feeling a headache coming on. Had this man gone overboard just because he’d slept with her? Didn’t he previously complain that she was too expensive?
"What else? Do you want the media implying that I, David Locke, can’t afford to take care of a woman? Never show up wearing those outdated outfits again," David Locke said domineeringly.
Mary Scott initially didn’t plan on using anything from a man. Hearing this, she retorted in anger, "Don’t worry, I won’t embarrass you."
"Good. I’m busy now," David Locke responded, visibly reassured, before hanging up without saying more.
Mary Scott had wanted to inform him about her participation in the variety show, but decided against it when she heard the busy signal. Shrugging in resignation, she resumed packing while admiring the closet. Despite her distaste for David Locke post-reunion, she couldn’t deny his impeccable taste—every item in the wardrobe suited her perfectly. After debating for a while, she finally selected a few pieces to pack.
Watching silently from the side, Alfred Scott chuckled, "Sis, brother-in-law treats you so well."
"Does he? He just doesn’t want me looking poor enough to tarnish his reputation," Mary Scott retorted, nearly forgetting Alfred’s presence.
Alfred Scott, however, saw it differently. "That saleswoman said he personally picked these clothes for you. If it were just for face-saving, he could’ve had someone else choose or given you money to shop."
"R-really? Why are you defending him after meeting him just once?" Mary Scott muttered, slightly swayed by her brother’s reasoning. Still, their past squabbles kept her from indulging in wishful thinking. Before Alfred could comment further, she urged him, "Go to bed already. I’ll transfer you thirty thousand for future tuition and living expenses. Let me know if you need more."
"Sis, you don’t need this much—ten thousand is enough until graduation. Save the rest for yourself," Alfred quickly refused.
"Don’t worry, take it," Mary Scott insisted, knowing her recent fame might not last long. Setting money aside for Alfred would ensure he didn’t have to worry for a long time.
Knowing his sister’s temperament, Alfred said no more.
After transferring the funds to Alfred, Mary Scott kept ten thousand for herself and transferred the rest to another account.
Thanks to David Locke’s delivery—including clothes, bags, and even skincare—Mary Scott felt relieved about not freezing. Happily packing her luggage, she coordinated travel plans with the show’s director and assistant director, ensured Mia Anderson would pick her up the next morning, then turned in for the night.
She promptly forgot about David Locke.
The next day.
Mary Scott woke up at six, prepared everything by seven, and was met by Mia Anderson in a rental car.
"Mary, why did Jocelyn suddenly get so generous? Be cautious if this is blood money!" Mia Anderson said uneasily, recalling the events of yesterday.
"Stop overthinking!" Mary Scott patted Mia Anderson’s shoulder, purposely playing it cool. "Don’t worry. Work hard and I’ll triple your year-end bonus this year!"
"Holy! Sis, are you okay? You’re so generous it scares me!" Mia Anderson, familiar with Mary Scott’s frugality, teased her, half-joking but startled at the unusual behavior.
Mary Scott sneered, "Well, I had a big win at year-end!"
Mia Anderson laughed, then eyed her outfit. "Whoa, you got new clothes? It’s rare!"
She reached out to feel the fabric, then exclaimed, "This feels amazing—where’s it from? No logo? You didn’t get it from Some Cat** again, did you? Sis, you’re trending now. If reporters catch you wearing knockoffs or street market stuff, you’ll get roasted!"
Sometimes Mia Anderson couldn’t understand Mary Scott. Despite having financially decent early years post-fame, Mary seemed perpetually broke—so much so that Mia suspected hidden expenditures, like supporting a secret lover.
"Ahem—not that," Mary Scott coughed with embarrassment. She didn’t want to draw attention to the high-end attire David Locke selected but wore it to preempt reporter speculation at the airport.
Of course, the new outfit was incredibly warm.
"Not knockoffs? Not street market?!" Mia Anderson searched for a tag.
Mary Scott slapped her hand away. "Why are you so tacky? As long as the clothes look good, what does it matter? Besides, sponsors will likely provide wardrobe during filming. Don’t stress."
She didn’t dare divulge David Locke’s involvement.
Mia Anderson sighed. "Fine. Reporters probably won’t be tailing this early in winter’s morning. But you were at Rose Valley last night—so, did you and Director Locke reconcile? Eh?"
Her insinuation was accompanied by a suggestive giggle.
Mary Scott shot Mia Anderson a disdainful look without offering much explanation. After all, she herself wasn’t clear on her relationship status with David Locke.
Her silence was construed by Mia Anderson as tacit agreement, lifting her spirits. She sped the car up slightly, imagining Mary Scott might finally hit big-time success with David Locke in tow.
Upon arrival at the airport around 7:20, Mary Scott and Mia Anderson bundled up, hauling luggage. Before reaching the terminal, a group of reporters rushed toward them. Frightened, Mia instinctively shielded Mary.
But the reporters didn’t target them—they were chasing someone behind.
Relieved, Mia cautiously glanced back at a young man donning sunglasses and a leather jacket, strutting through the lounge with an entourage. "Who is that...?"
Mia Anderson squinted cluelessly, unable to recognize him.
Mary Scott followed her gaze, frowning slightly as she vaguely recalled seeing this person before. "It might be Duke Blue."
"Duke Blue? You mean that greasy down-market actor? He looks way different from his photos!" Mia Anderson exclaimed. Duke was known for his roles in web dramas, bouncing between third-and-fourth-tier stardom. While likened to Michael Piers during debut, he earned initial popularity through cheesy romcom performances, gaining followers despite minimal appeal.
"Shh!" Mary Scott hushed Mia Anderson.
Mia Anderson quickly silenced herself, though her astonishment clearly caught the man’s attention. Duke Blue turned, his sunglasses obscuring any visible reaction. The pair awkwardly nodded in acknowledgment.
Meanwhile, fans wielded banners hollering, "Young Master Duke, we love you!"
More fans swarmed in, pushing Mary Scott and Mia Anderson aside, redirecting Duke Blue’s focus.
Relaxing unnoticed, the duo quietly handled boarding passes.
Out of the crowd, Mia Anderson griped softly, "I can’t believe such a greasy actor still attracts fans!"
Her tone suggested envy more than disbelief.
Mary Scott chuckled, "Everyone has their tastes."
"True. But you, Mary, are a million times better. You’ll have fan legacies far beyond his, I promise!" declared Mia Anderson.
Mary Scott responded noncommittally, caring more about functioning career-wise than adoration-based metrics.
The pair soon encountered commotion—a brusque "Move!" sounded behind them. Before reacting appropriately, shoving ensued; Mary stumbled but Mia’s intervention softened her fall. Yet pain flared as she collided partially onto luggage security rails.
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