The Spare Wife by Nadia Gordon

Chapter 390 Let Me Go

Cameron turned to smile at Abigail. “You’re a good woman, Ms. Quinn. What happened?”

“Since you think I’m good, tell your boss to let me go,” she casually replied.

That made his heart sink.

Did she detest Sean that much?

“He truly cares about you. While he wasn’t considerate of your feelings at first…”

“You saw what happened before. How can you try to persuade me without an ounce of guilt?” she interrupted.

He fell silent. After a moment, he softly said, “I sec.”

After he walked out of the room, he headed downstairs to where Sean was waiting.

Sean was leaning against the car. After a few long moments of staring at Cameron, he asked, “Why did you take so long?”

Cameron did not dare look him in the eye as he mumbled, “I helped Ms. Quinn grab something.”

“Do you want to resign?” Sean could instantly tell he was lying. “What did she say?”

“Please don’t ask, Mr. Graham.”

He was afraid of making Sean lose all hope when it came to Abigail.

“Are you not going to say it?” Sean’s eyes went cold.

Cameron ducked his head and remained silent.

“I’ve heard the worst she could ever throw at me,” Sean continued.

“She asked me if she was a good person. When I said yes, she told me to ask you to let her go.” Cameron finally caved in..

Sean silently opened the car door and got in.

The scandal of Runway Capitalis forced Tristan to post an official statement to all of the show’s social media accounts.

“The rumors spreading among the fans regarding Miss Alana’s injury have greatly affected the

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show. Please do not spread misinformation and seek actual evidence. Legal action will be taken against those who do otherwise.”

The announcement infuriated Alana’s fans.

Not long after the announcement was posted, Abigail promptly uploaded a photo of her stitch- covered arm on Instagram.

The silent rebuttal through that one picture had caused an explosion among the fanbase.

Her entire arm was covered in stitches. It looked horrifying as it seemed like a giant centipede was crawling up her arm.

Abigail’s fans were on the warpath now.

“This is Alana’s dominant hand. Look at those injuries! Tristan Stuart of Runway Capitalis, explain this to us, or we’ll report the showrunners for causing harm!”

Rumors among fans? I welcome the production team to sue me. Look at how badly injured. Alana’s arm is. The production team did that and still has the nerve to say they’ll sue us?”

The production team feels no remorse at all. They only care about their reputation. They’re shameless! In the video, Miss Alana was suspended in mid-air! How are we spreading misinformation? Just how evil are you?”

I’ve loved Runway Capitalis for years. I’ve watched every season despite all the bad rumors. There was never proof, so I believed in the team. Now, it is a fact that the suspension system injured Alana’s arm. It’s also a fact that the production team only cares about their reputation. Why should I like this show any longer?”

The fans’ comments did not stress Tristan out at all.

After a few minutes of scrolling on his phone, he scoffed the phone to the table.

Abigail would soon come begging like the b*tch she was.

That was the fantasy he indulged in.

He did not care about the comments online. After all, this was not the first incident. He had plenty of experience with scandals.

The comments turned increasingly hateful.

Abigail was surprised by how composed Tristan was.

As the sky darkened, Luna hurried over from Pendorf.

When she barged into the room, her eyes turned red upon seeing Abigail. “Are you okay? How

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did this happen to your hand?”

Abigail smiled in response. “I’m fine. It’s not that bad. I’ll recover.”

Luna sniffled. “Can you tell me the next time you’re invited to a show? What kind of trash is this program?”

“I had no choice,” Abigail said with a sigh.

Just as Luna was about to speak, her phone rang.

It was from her L.Moon assistant.

“What is it?” she asked right after answering the call.

“A few of the top executives of our clients have called to demand Abigail properly talk this out with Tristan Stuart so that this may be resolved with both sides coming out smelling like roses. Otherwise, they’ll cancel our contracts, the assistant said, absolutely seething.

Luna hummed in acknowledgment. “Got it. Tally up the calls and forward their numbers to me. I’ll personally deal with them.”

Abigail glanced at Luna and waited for her to end the call before asking. “Did I drag the studio down with me?”

Luna whirled around with a smile on her face. “No way. You’re our greatest artist. Who could you even drag down?”

“Tristan has quite a lot of influence on his side,” Abigail solemnly stated, looking Luna in the eye.

Luna sat by the bed and ran her fingers through Abigail’s hair as she warmly said, “We’re not afraid. We’re the best of friends. Sisters, even. Since you’ve decided he’s your enemy, then he has to be someone horrible.”

Warmth filled Abigail’s heart.

Luna ordered a few snacks for her and chatted with her for around 30 minutes before Luna’s assistant sent her a message.

“I have to make a few phone calls.”