CHAPTER 433: CHAPTER 433: SHE’S WATCHING ME

Quinn Lockwood quickly left after the sound of high heels faded away.

She needed to do something to stall Ariana Lynch’s actions and make some time for her upcoming plan.

Back at the filming site, Quinn asked the director to move her scenes up for filming.

The moment the director called "cut," she darted out of the set as if someone were chasing her, without even changing her clothes.

She had to be quick; she needed to get things done before Ariana finished work.

Quinn left the filming site and hurriedly got into her car, driving at full speed back home.

"Are my things working for you alright? If they aren’t suitable, you’d better return them to me as soon as possible."

"You know I dislike people touching my things. I advise you to behave and stop coveting them."

"Otherwise, I won’t be just silently watching you from behind..."

Quinn returned to her room quickly, logged into her old social media account, and typed these words into Ariana’s chat box swiftly.

Ariana is most afraid of ghosts, so she might as well use this point to let her enjoy some mental torture.

Ariana was changing clothes in the dressing room at that moment; when she finished changing and picked up her phone to leave, she saw the gray-white avatar frame light up again, with a few unread messages.

"Otherwise, I won’t just be watching you..." Ariana didn’t even know how she clicked on the messages, only that she couldn’t move a bit now, and as she read the last sentence, she uncontrollably screamed and ran outside crazily, leaving her phone behind.

She’s watching me! She said she’s watching me!

The crew was busy packing up studio equipment when they heard a woman’s terrified scream coming closer.

Everyone turned at the sound and saw Ariana Lynch with her eyes wide open, her face pale and distorted.

She pounced at anyone she saw, muttering incessantly, "She’s watching me! Did any of you see her? She said she’s watching me."

The crew was bewildered; at first, they thought Ariana was rehearsing a scene until she had crashed into several pieces of equipment, realizing something was off.

Luckily, the remaining crew were internal employees of The Lockwood Group, who wouldn’t spread news of Ariana’s odd behavior like outsiders.

Anyway, they took Ariana back to the villa, still reciting her mantra.

Meanwhile, Quinn filmed several scenes continuously with the crew and rushed back home, feeling both mental and physical pressure and disturbance suddenly enveloping her in the tranquility.

She’s so tired, she desperately wants to sleep and wake up with all these unpleasant things gone.

Quinn switched back to her current account, stretched lazily, and then walked out of her room.

She needed a drink and to sleep quickly.

Quinn wrapped herself in a robe, dragging her somewhat heavy steps down the stairs. Today Nina Sinclair wasn’t home; the living room was pitch-black, and Quinn could only rely on the upstairs and courtyard lights to see.

She’d rather have saliva than walk to the doorway to turn on the lights.

As she fumbled to pour herself half a cup of water, her gaze lowered, lost in thought.

At this moment, the outer door of the living room opened, and Quinn seemed lost in some sort of thought process, completely isolated from the outside world.

With the click-clack of high-end leather shoes, the living room suddenly lit up brightly.

"You’re still awake?" Elias Sinclair saw Quinn on the sofa; he visibly hesitated as a complex emotion flickered in his eyes, quickly subsiding.

"What’s the matter? Are you feeling unwell?" Elias noticed Quinn sitting on the sofa absent-mindedly, seemingly mixed with some helplessness and irritation between her brows, suddenly feeling anxious.

The man hurried to Quinn’s side, raising his hand to touch her forehead, but she withdrew to avoid his touch.

"I’m fine." Quinn put down the cup she was holding, keeping her eyes lowered, not glancing at Elias even once.

"I’m going to sleep." Quinn stood up, her voice plain as if she were speaking to air.

Today... he’s back this late again.

As the woman turned, her gaze passed the clock on the wall where the hour hand stayed at eleven, seemingly marking all the things that happened within these sixteen or seventeen hours that she’d rather not have seen.

Like whether Elias and Melody Shepherd spent the whole day together.

Quinn wanted to look back at Elias; her pace paused slightly as she stepped onto the stairs, then returned to normal.

Elias stood by the sofa, watching Quinn’s retreating figure, his eyes deep with reflection.

This woman is definitely off today.

The man furrowed his brow slightly, raising his footsteps to chase Quinn, wanting to ask what happened, but then he heard a phone ring.

The sound lasted only two seconds, indicating a message.

Elias’s gaze followed the sound to Quinn’s phone not far from the water cup.

It indeed showed a new message had arrived, the sender’s name being Jonah Hansen.

Just that glance made Elias’s entire face turn cold abruptly, the chill in his surroundings like endless darkness from the depths of hell.

He had just reached to pick up the phone and check the specifics when a slender hand quickly seized it from behind the sofa.

"Savannah Lowell." The man’s voice was extremely low and hoarse, as if forcefully squeezed from his throat.

"Why are you still in contact with Jonah Hansen?"

Quinn kept her head down, clutching her phone tightly.

She heard Elias’s voice mixed with deep anger and her heart suddenly jolted.

She knew Elias was particularly furious at this moment, and also incredibly disappointed in her.

Quinn mumbled her lips, wanting to gently explain to Elias, so she slowly raised her head.

However, meeting Elias’s eyes, she felt her heart grow cold at the same time.

His deep, narrow eyes fell sharply on Quinn, the temperature inside dropping instantly to zero, cold enough to stiffen one’s body.

Quinn read emotions from his profound eyes: suspicion, scrutiny, and distrust.

Overwhelming disappointment and desolation, in an instant, wove a densely black net, enclosing Quinn in an enclosed dark space, making it impossible to breathe or even move.

Forget it, let’s just forget it.