The internet uproar was soon silenced; not a single newspaper dared to report on Amanda and Jasper anymore.
In a surprising turn of events, a group of "bloodhound" paparazzi—who usually thrived on scandal—unanimously released photos proving that Amanda and her husband were the real deal. This calculated move left a certain General Manager, who was relatively new to the world of internet trends, feeling very satisfied.
Amanda had been somewhat reluctant about Quentin's public move, but she was tired of hiding the fact that she was married. This time, she chose to go with the flow and support his decision.
When the film Love is Tested was released on the big screen, Amanda's acting was a revelation. Her performance was so powerful that those who had previously mocked her online were left speechless, not daring to utter another word of criticism. Consequently, the "Quentimanda" fan base, which had briefly been suppressed, rose up once more with stubborn enthusiasm.
Two days later, Amanda packed her bags and returned to her film set. Since the male lead had not yet been recast, she focused on completing her solo scenes first. Celia, as usual, was there working as her makeup artist.
"Elena Lewis is truly insane," Celia chattered as she applied powder. "She always seemed so weak and fragile, yet she actually dared to try and kill someone!"
Amanda felt a headache coming on just listening to the gossip. "Forget it. You're my brother's main squeeze now; there's no need to waste energy on people who are no longer relevant."
On New Year's Eve, Diego and Celia had agreed to get to know each other seriously. Since then, Amanda had heard from her mother that their relationship was progressing quite well.
Celia's cheeks turned a bright red, and her hand slipped, applying a bit too much powder to Amanda's face. "Do you want me to use this foundation to plug your mouth? I'm worried about you, and you're just teasing me! Your brother is out there like a madman looking for Elena Lewis everywhere."
Amanda's eyes darkened for a moment, but she laughed it off, gently pushing Celia's hand away. "I can't help it, sister-in-law!"
"Mandy…!"
"Amanda! Are you ready? It's your turn!" Director Chu shouted, urging her toward the set.
Amanda chuckled and slipped away, throwing one last playful jab over her shoulder. "Duty calls, sister-in-law!"
As she stepped before the cameras, Amanda's energy was infectious. The crew of Deep Friendship was far more harmonious than the one on her previous project. Even the cleaning staff seemed to be in high spirits.
While the atmosphere on the film set was gentle, the mood at the Harris Group was suffocating.
On the 25th floor, Quentin had called an emergency meeting of the senior management board, leaving the executives restless and anxious. In the massive boardroom, men of immense corporate authority sat in stony silence. No one spoke; the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.
Javier sat among them, a cold sense of unease pooling in his gut.
Quentin walked in wearing a sharp blue suit. The rhythmic strike of his leather shoes against the marble floor sounded like a countdown in the hearts of those present. With an expressionless face, he took his seat and elegantly crossed his legs, his fingers tapping a slow, steady beat on the table.
He glanced at Secretary James, who immediately began distributing black-and-white documents to the board members. As the executives looked at the files, the faces of those holding the black documents turned ashen.
Quentin pursed his lips and spoke slowly. "I don't want to waste your precious time, so let's get straight to the point."
He opened his laptop, and a list appeared on the projection screen. "Those whose names appear on this list are requested to resign from the Harris Group, effective immediately."
The room erupted. The suddenness of the mass layoff sent shock-waves through the board.
"President Harris," an older manager advised cautiously, "a layoff of this magnitude will have a devastating impact on the corporation."
"I think you should reconsider!" another added, his face reddening with anger.
A third man, his mustache bristling with rage, shouted, "That's right! We have contributed to this company for years. You can't just fire us on a whim!"
Voices overlapped in a cacophony of protest. Javier gripped his document so tightly his knuckles turned white. A chill ran down his spine as he stared at Quentin.
Quentin sat perfectly still amidst the shouting, a chillingly calm smile on his face. He watched them until their voices grew hoarse, then knocked sharply on the wooden table. The room fell silent.
"My mind is made up," Quentin said, his voice deep and unwavering. "The Harris Group needs new blood."
The finality in his tone made the air in the room feel thin. However, a few directors, driven by self-interest, refused to back down.
"Quentin! We have been loyal to your family for decades! You're just going to throw us out?" The speaker was the Director of Finance, a man in his forties with a reputation for being a shark.
Quentin squinted, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "Director Lopez, I assume you haven't read the back of the document I gave you? If I truly lacked respect for your 'years of service,' you would be at the police station right now, not sitting here lecturing me on life."
Quentin's voice turned razor-sharp at the end. The sheer force of his presence caused Director Lopez to sink back into his chair, unable to meet his gaze.
Quentin scanned the room, his cold eyes landing on those holding the black folders. Finally, his gaze settled on Javier's pale face.
"I consider myself an easy-going man," Quentin continued. "But one by one, you all insisted on flaunting your crimes before me. Stealing, bribing, cheating—some of you were even selling out the company to our competitors. Did you really think I would just keep one eye closed?"
The room was as silent as a tomb. Several men lowered their heads, unable to look up.
"I would rather cut out these pests than let them rot the company from within. Pack your things and leave immediately. If you have an objection, take it up with our legal department. Meeting dismissed."
As he finished, the managers who held the white documents—the ones who were staying—began to clap. "President Harris is wise," one murmured.
As the room cleared, the expressions ranged from relief to utter despair. Javier remained in his seat, staring at Quentin with eyes that were glassy with unshed tears and burning with resentment. Half of the people fired were his strongest supporters. In a single meeting, Quentin had effectively cut off his hands.