Exposing the Charade of Deep Affection (PDF)

Chapter 383



Chapter 383

Chapter 383 What Marjorie Wrote

The entire content was written from various angles, analyzing the incidents in the scenic area. It was

clear that Walter was being targeted. One incident could be an accident, but two incidents. occurring

simultaneously in the same scenic area, and also sparking heated discussions, was enough to indicate

that there was a problem. Moreover, the scenic area had been open for decades, and there had never

been any issues with the internal equipment in all those years. Suddenly, there was a problem today. It

was impossible for accidents to be concentrated in one day. Some even said that the Hinton Group

was covering up the sky with one hand, causing death and harm. If it was really Walter, why couldn’t

the police find any evidence? Even if the Hinton family was covering up the sky with one hand, could

the people brought in from above also let the Hinton family cover up the sky with one hand? The All rights © NôvelDrama.Org.

following was an accusation that netizens did not use their brains when looking at things, did not think

for themselves, and would follow whatever was happening online without. discerning right from wrong.

The article was quite lengthy, almost every word and sentence was speaking for Walter and the Hinton

family. After reading the manuscript, I glanced through the comments. As I expected, almost all of them

were unanimously negative, believing that the article was written by a ghostwriter hired by the Hinton

family, with the sole purpose of whitewashing the Hinton family.

I frowned, Walter would disdain to have someone do such a thing, let alone, he didn’t care at all about

what people on the internet said. This article couldn’t possibly have been written by someone Walter

hired.

Glanced at the author of the article, the pen name was Firefly.

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Closing my phone, I sent a message to Walter, “Are you done with your work?”

There was a lot going on, so I didn’t expect him to reply immediately. However, to my surprise, not long

after I sent the message, he responded, “Hmm, have you rested?”

“Not yet!”

I was planning to wait for his message to ask about his article, but unexpectedly, the doorbell rang.

I got up to open the door, and was somewhat surprised to see a tall figure standing outside. I couldn’t

help but ask, “Are you done with your work?”

Walter raised an eyebrow, a casual air on his handsome face, “There’s always endless work, join me

for some food.” Saying this, he lifted up the bag in his hand, it was a takeout box.

I was doubtful as he had already entered the room through the door gap, walked over to the sofa and

sat down, taking out the takeout box, which was filled with some home-cooked dishes.

He hadn’t eaten at this point, and I felt a pang of sympathy. Sitting next to him, I asked, “Is there any

progress on the matter?”

He nodded, grunted in agreement, and handed me a bowl of rice and chopsticks. I had just eaten and

didn’t have much of an appetite, but I didn’t want to dampen his spirits, so I accepted it.

I sat with him quietly while he ate for a while. When I saw that he had almost finished eating, I finally

asked, “Did you arrange for that article defending you online?”

He shook his head, and as soon as he finished speaking, his phone rang. It was Roy calling. He didn’t

avoid me when he answered. Roy’s

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voice came from the other end of the phone, “Mr. Hinton, the author of the manuscript is Marjorie, a

journalist from Future Press. As far as I know, she has no connection with the Hinton family, but she

seems to have some connection with your wife. She seems to be very close to your wife’s mother.”

Upon hearing Roy’s voice, I immediately realized, Marjorie!

Walter grunted into the phone before hanging up. His dark eyes looked at me, the corners of his mouth

lifting in a smile. “Afraid I can’t handle the pressure of public opinion, so you’re helping me in this

way?”

I shook my head, looking at him and said, “I didn’t ask Marjorie to write that article.”

He hooked his lips, raised an eyebrow, “I know, just teasing you.”

I was speechless, suddenly not knowing what to say.

He leaned back, his slender body casually resting on the sofa, lazily saying, “Although the entire

manuscript seems to be speaking for me, releasing it at this time, it indeed appears to be helping me,

but in reality, it’s just the author trying to attract attention, a common tactic used by entertainment

journalists. You wouldn’t do it, nor would you stoop to it.”

Hearing him say this, I pursed my lips and asked, “Should the draft be withdrawn?”

Walter shook his head, “No need, things on the internet don’t require attention.”

After speaking, he looked at me and abruptly changed the subject, saying, “Get up early tomorrow

morning, I’ll take you somewhere.”

“Where to?”

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He laughed, remained silent, “You’ll know tomorrow.”

Seeing his mysterious expression, I snorted and stopped talking.

Not long after he sat down, Walter’s phone rang again. He furrowed his brow, and before his seat even

warmed up, he had to leave to handle things.

Knowing he was busy, I didn’t ask much.

Alone in the room, lost in thought, the matter of Rachel was like an invisible knife, piercing into the

body. It didn’t hurt, it didn’t itch, but it was exceptionally suffocating.

The next day.

I was awakened by Walter’s knocking. I opened the door groggily to find him standing outside. I was a

bit taken aback, “What’s up?”

Seeing my sleepy state, he helplessly said, “Have you forgotten what I said yesterday?”

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