Chapter 441: Chapter 441

Celestial Queen: Revenge Is Sweet When You’re A Zillionaire HeiressWords: 3253

Chapter 441:

The crowd watching the live stream began to grow restless.

“Where’s Clint? Where’s my beloved Clint?”

“Do the staff have any clue what they’re doing? Aren’t they aware that Clint’s the main attraction of this broadcast?”

“And why keep focusing on Kelley? We’re here for Tiffany!” On the verge of being overwhelmed, the broadcast nearly went offline due to the intense pressure from the fans.

Left with no other options, the team reached out to Spheredale for assistance. Tiffany and Clint were unaware of the swirling tide of fan outrage, cheerfully serving Harlee her meal.

Harlee caught Tiffany’s eye, her bubbly demeanor sparking a thought. Were they old friends? If Tiffany had ever looked at Clint for even a moment, she wouldn’t have any doubts.

Harlee’s mouth twitched into a playful smile.

“You do know this is a no-filming zone, right? Are you sure you big stars want to be here?”

Tiffany, adding a lobster to Harlee’s dish and turning slowly, replied, “It’s all good. I’m just here to strut down the red carpet today.”

Clint gave a nonchalant nod, showing he was fine with it too.

“Clint,” a sudden voice interrupted from behind.

Clint spun around, greeted by Kelley weaving through the crowd, her hips gently swaying.

Her face beamed with a bright, assertive smile, and her eyes twinkled as they met his.

“Clint, my dear, what keeps you here all alone? Your fans are clamoring to see you on the livestream,” Kelley cooed, her voice dripping with sugary intimacy.

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“Miss Archer, I must have mentioned this before. We’re not on familiar terms. Please address me as Mr. Sanderson, like everyone else,” Clint responded, his expression stern, his voice deep and distant.

A shade of red crept across Kelley’s cheeks, a visible flush of embarrassment taking hold. She nibbled her lower lip, her demeanor wounded.

“I overheard this woman call you ‘Clint’, and I assumed you preferred it…

How could you say that to me? Aren’t we…”

Kelley’s voice trailed off purposefully, leaving her sentence hanging. She then subtly touched her eyes, simulating tears.

Unbeknownst to Clint, Kelley’s accomplice in the photography department had already covertly directed the camera toward them. Kelley, adorned with a hidden microphone, ensured their exchange was broadcast live, crystal clear to all the viewers.

At that moment, the person in charge of the live broadcast discreetly changed the camera angle to center on them, while the giant screens at the venue continued to highlight different celebrities.

Clint sneered. Such a theatrical display of forced tears! Did she really think such petty tricks would work on him? In his younger years, he had navigated through far more elaborate manipulations.

Clint’s eyes narrowed, his countenance shadowed as he declared, “Miss Archer, perhaps it’s time you educated yourself on respecting personal space.

And please, stop addressing me as ‘dear.'”

These words plunged Kelley into deep mortification. The heirs of illustrious families in the VIP area watched the spectacle with a mix of intrigue and amusement, their decorum keeping their comments subdued.

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