Ivy sighed, “So, do you believe I’m innocent now?”
Balfour glanced back at the computer screen, where the surveillance footage played. He tugged at his
tie as an inexplicable irritation gnawed at him. “Was there something else you wanted to discuss
through the call?” he asked:
Despite presenting clear evidence to Balfour, his tone remained indifferent.
It was utterly baffling!
Ivy let out a resigned sigh, “There’s another thing I need your help with. It’s clear someone took these
photos with malicious intent. Could you look into who’s behind the camera?”
“Hmm.” Balfour grunted coldly. He had already set Quinton on the case.
The scheme wasn’t exactly cloaked in secrecy; a brief probe by Quinton’s contacts had traced the
breadcrumbs back to Clara.
“Ma’am, it’s Clara.”
Hearing the investigation results from Quinton, Ivy’s expression twisted into a snarl.
She had thought that after handing over three million dollars, she could sever ties with the Dunhill
family for good. Yet Clara was like a specter, haunting her still and intent on bringing her down.
If they chose to be ruthless, Ivy saw no reason to hold onto the last shreds of familial ties.
“Ma’am, should I step in and give Clara a warning?” Quinton offered.
Ivy pondered for a moment before shaking her head, “No need. I’ll handle this myself. But Quinton, I do
need another favor from you, if you’re willing.”
Quinton nodded, “Balfour told me that you could count on me whenever you need.”
–
Ivy instructed, “I need you to dig into what Clara’s been up to lately any gigs she’s picked up and any
crew she joined.”
Ivy knew Clara’s priorities – her career was paramount for now.
If she was to teach her a lesson, she had to hit her where it hurt most.
Quinton got on it right away, and soon he had news: Clara was jobless for this time and she was
desperately networking to snag roles in any crew. Clara’s hunger for fame was her Achilles’ heel. If she
got no jobs and no spotlight for now, she must be in total despération.
“Well, perhaps it’s time I offer her an ‘opportunity’, Ivy had something on her mind.
She borrowed Quinton’s work phone and, pinching her nose to disguise her voice, dialed Clara’s
number, “Hello, is this Clara Dunhill?”
“Yes, who’s this?” Clara’s tone was irritable, which was indicative of her sour mood.
Ivy continued, “I’m with the casting team for Love Fortress, and we’re currently finding an actress for a
role, Would you be interested in auditioning?” “The casting director?” Clara perked up immediately, her
tone warming up. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that? Which crew are you with?” she asked. Ivy pinched
her nose again and repeated, “Love Fortress'”
“Love Fortress’?” Clara wracked her brain and was unable to place the name. I’ve never heard of it.”
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