Chapter 111
Effie’s hand paused mid-motion. She looked up at Shirley and asked, “Really? How do you know that?”
The group had been chatting about office gossip just a moment ago. This must have been what they were whispering about.
After all, Lyman was the heir to the Etheridge Group, and Isabel was a well-known dancer. Both of them were headline material.
When Effie first heard the rumor, she felt a subtle pang of jealousy.
Shirley leaned in, dropping her voice conspiratorially. “Someone spotted Mr. Etheridge at Isabel’s place yesterday afternoon. They were inside for ages, just the two of them. The photos are everywhere! Everyone’s saying they must be together-just look online, it’s blowing up!”
She fished out her phone, found a few blurry photos, and handed it to Effie.
In the photos, Lyman stood at Isabel’s door while she answered, apparently in her pajamas. Their faces weren’t clear, but the posture between them looked a little too intimate.
Effie glanced at the pictures, her heart tightening, but her face remained composed. She handed the phone back to Shirley, her tone even. “You know how these gossip stories are-half true, half made up. Best not to take them too seriously.”
Still, Effie tried to convince herself to trust Lyman.
Shirley pouted, clearly disappointed by Effie’s reaction. “Effie, how can you not be interested at all? Mr. Etheridge is our boss—his scandals are practically front- page news for us!”
Effie smiled faintly and started sorting through paperwork. “Work comes first. Gossip is just noise-listen if you want, but don’t let it get to you.”
The truth was, Effie couldn’t help but feel uneasy. She recalled how, when Lyman came home last night and she’d leaned against his chest, she’d caught a hint of unfamiliar body wash.
Had he just come from Isabel’s place? Was that how he got her scent on him?
As Shirley realized Effie wasn’t going to join in the speculation, she wandered off, a bit deflated.
Effie watched her go, quietly exhaling-but her mind was a mess of emotions.
It would be a lie to say none of this bothered her. She and Lyman were married now. More than that-they were finally real husband and wife.
If Lyman truly wanted Isabel, Effie would rather step aside than be caught in some secret web of lies. There was no need for either of them to sneak around.
Shaking her head, Effie forced herself to focus and opened her laptop. Isabel’s initial jewelry designs had just come in; she needed to review them one more time and make sure nothing was overlooked.
Meanwhile, in his office at the Etheridge Group, Lyman was buried in paperwork when Luther burst in, clearly flustered.
Lyman frowned, glancing up. “What’s going on? Why the panic?”
“Mr. Etheridge, those paparazzi photos of you at Miss Isabel’s place are
everywhere. The news is trending-everyone’s talking about it.”
Was there really nothing better for the media to report? Why did this kind of rumor always make the headlines?
It felt suspiciously like someone was fanning the flames behind the scenes- especially with so many rivals eager to see the Etheridge Group stumble. Manufacturing a scandal was an easy way to hurt their reputation.
Lyman’s expression darkened. He set his pen down and fixed Luther with a cold stare. “Photos? What photos?”
Luther quickly handed over his tablet. On the screen were the very same blurry pictures circulating that morning-Lyman and Isabel standing together at her door, Isabel unmistakably in sleepwear, the kind of shot that left just enough room for malicious speculation.
Lyman’s face turned grim as he scrolled through them. “Those vultures are everywhere,” he muttered icily. Then, his tone sharpened. “Contact PR- immediately. I want this handled. I don’t want another word of this nonsense spreading.”