?<strong>Chapter 664:</strong>


    “Oh? Is there a story here?” the organizer inquired, usually uninterested in tabloid gossip. Fannie had denied the rumors at the time, exining why some might be unaware.


    “There’s no real story. Reporters these days create drama from mere snapshots. Believing them would be naive.”


    Fannie hoped to close the subject, but Bobby wasn’t done.


    “True, there’s no borate tale. But I was indeed in the hotel room with Fifi that night.”


    Everyone at the table gasped, caught up in the unfolding drama.


    Fannie maintained herposure, her fingers tightening around her wine ss as she contemted whether to douse Bobby’s smug face with its contents.


    Clearly, he was stirring the pot on purpose, relishing the difort he caused her as he exaggerated the story. In his eyes, she was still the naive girl, always embroiled in scandals she couldn’t escape.


    Bobby continued deliberately, “But we weren’t alone. A minor celebrity was there too. We were simply discussing business when the reporters barged in.”


    “So that was the situation.”


    Finally, the topic came to a close.


    Fannie, just back from a grueling business trip and fresh off the ne, was too drained to engage further. Yet, she knew the evening was crucial for her artist’s future. Networking was a must.


    Bobby, the key investor at the table, held the influence she needed. Winning him over could sway others to support her projects.


    In the world of showbiz, connections often drew criticism, but they were essential for securing funding— even for minor roles that barely promised a few lines on screen. Butnding even these small opportunities could make a big difference for her artist.


    Fannie raised her ss to propose a toast, but before she could sip, Bobby spoke up.


    “Why not try currying favor with me? It’d be simpler.”


    Realizing Bobby’s intentions were firmly focused on her tonight, Fannie dropped all pretense.


    The empty space next to Bobby seemed to have awaited her all evening. She walked over with her wine ss and sat down beside him.


    “Mr. Kelly, this toast is for you.”


    As Fannie raised her ss, Bobby covered its rim with his hand, halting her motion. In a bold move, he pulled her close by the waist in front of everyone.


    Fannie’s torso tipped forward involuntarily into him. Despite her efforts to stay upright, a bit of wine sloshed over the rim of her ss, dribbling through his fingers.


    The crowd averted their eyes as Bobby, cigarette dangling from his lips, leaned in close, his whisper grazing her ear.


    “I didn’t use protectionst time. Did you take pills?”


    Only Fannie could hear these words, but her heart still skipped a beat.


    The thought had never even crossed her mind. And now, it was toote to take pills.


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