Chapter 3: Climbed Up to the Most Influential Lord in the Capital

Not sure if it was because of Oliver Donald's casual demeanor, Samantha Huntington felt that the way he called her over sounded like how one would call a pet. Under her mask, she pouted silently but still obediently lowered her head and stood beside him.

She had expected Oliver Donald to explain that she was there as a photographer or to ask what had happened, but instead, the man said nothing, simply putting his hands in his coat pockets and strolled leisurely inside. Samantha Huntington followed his steps.

Seeing this, Sylvia Congreve called out anxiously, "Hey! This is the Starlight Gala today, can just anyone enter?"

At her words, Oliver Donald paused slightly, slowly turning his head to glance at her. His dark eyes flickered with displeasure, as if annoyed by her noise. Though he didn't say anything, Sylvia Congreve felt frozen by his gaze.

Her mind raced, and suddenly, she recognized him—the third young master of the Donald family! The most prestigious bachelor in the capital, the warm bed companion that countless actresses in the entertainment industry tried to curry favor with!

Before she could adjust her expression, Edward Priestley, who had been standing next to her, already bent slightly at the waist and greeted him enthusiastically. "Mr. Donald! Good evening! What an honor to meet you here!"

Edward Priestley extended both hands, showing utmost respect. However, Oliver Donald merely glanced at him disdainfully, as if he hadn't heard, and wrapped his arm around Samantha Huntington's shoulder. "Trying to annoy me? Listening to these idle people babble on."

Idle people... babble... These words, though directed at Samantha Huntington, were actually a sarcastic jab at Edward Priestley and Sylvia Congreve. After saying this, he led Samantha Huntington through the crowd towards the main hall.

With her shoulders held by the man, Samantha Huntington carefully observed the atmosphere around them. She noticed that others seemed very afraid of Oliver Donald. Though they seemed to have objections to him bringing her in, they only exchanged glances and hurriedly followed without a word.

Strange... Isn't he just the owner of an entertainment media company?...

Full of questions, Samantha Huntington followed Oliver Donald further into the venue. Behind them, Sylvia Congreve's face alternated between red and white from the humiliation. She was also jealous—how did Samantha Huntington, who had just been dumped by Edward Priestley, manage to climb onto the most influential man in the capital?

Edward Priestley was still staring at their retreating figures, feeling a mix of emotions. Seeing his ex-girlfriend leave with Oliver Donald left him in a complicated mood. Noticing his silence, Sylvia Congreve asked, "Xuan, how does Samantha Huntington know Mr. Donald?"

"Hmm," Edward Priestley came back to his senses and, for some reason, replied absentmindedly, "Mr. Donald owns a media website, and Samantha Huntington is probably one of his employees."

"Oh, media... I remember now, EntertainNew.com," Sylvia Congreve felt a bit better, "Samantha Huntington said she was here for work, so she must be a journalist. Sigh, why become a paparazzo when there are so many other jobs?"

Yes, just a paparazzo. Why would Oliver Donald be interested in such a woman? Edward Priestley also felt he was overthinking and sighed in relief, patting Sylvia Congreve's hand. "Let's go in too. Tonight is your important award ceremony. We should get someone to touch up your makeup."

As the artist director, having an artist win an award with her pure image was also a source of pride for him. But what made him uneasy was that this seemingly pure goddess was actually quite promiscuous.

"President, we have arranged a private suite on the third floor. Shall we go up now?" As soon as Samantha Huntington entered the room, she heard this.

Private suite... Her back ached, and she had a bad feeling. She sneakily glanced at Oliver Donald and decided to make a run for it. But before she could turn around, the man grabbed the back of her shirt, making her shiver in fear.

"President... President, the red carpet event is about to start, I need to go take photos. My editor wants them for the front page."

Using work as an excuse, surely he wouldn't stop her, right?! Samantha Huntington lifted her foot to run, but before it touched the ground, she heard the man lazily say, "No rush."

No rush? Even for work? A tyrant! Just a tyrant obsessed with women! As she was dragged into the suite, Samantha Huntington cursed inwardly. The memories of her recent torment were still fresh, and she hugged herself, trying to think of a way to escape.

Unexpectedly, Oliver Donald took off his coat and, seeing her still wrapped in her down jacket, asked with a half-smile, "Aren't you hot?"

Hot! Extremely hot! But how could she dare to take it off?!

Samantha Huntington shook her head, and sweat dripped down. Oliver Donald pretended not to see and sat on the sofa, looking relaxed. The so-called private suite was actually a VIP box in the theater, with a one-way glass wall that prevented anyone outside from seeing in.

Samantha Huntington stood by the glass, secretly wiping her sweat, keeping a distance from Oliver Donald. Suddenly, she saw Edward Priestley and Sylvia Congreve enter through the main door and then leave through a side door. She remembered coming here with her mother to watch operas when she was young and knew that the side door led to a short corridor to the storage room.

What were they doing there? Could they be seeking some excitement... The more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed.

"President, I really need to go take photos of the red carpet. I'll come right back after it's done!" Samantha Huntington made a swearing gesture, not giving him a chance to object, and ran out with her camera. This didn't look like she was going to work.

Oliver Donald's eyes darkened, and he followed her out.