Reborn as Mr.CEO's Fat Wife-Chapter 919: Is It Good to Go Home in the Evening?

Mary Scott looked at her phone, torn between laughing and crying.

Mia Anderson clutched her chest, "Oh my god, oh my god, Mr. Foster really proves his comedic roots! My poor little heart nearly leapt out of my chest!"

Mary Scott also quietly exhaled a sigh of relief and quickly pulled up James Jerome’s private message. "Thank you, Mr. Foster!"

James Jerome responded directly, "I want to see some actual action."

Mary Scott laughed, "One hundred skewers?"

"Deal!" The old guy was ecstatic.

Mary Scott’s tense mood finally relaxed after holding it in all day. She returned to Twitter to share James Jerome’s post, along with a reply: "Mr. Foster, even five hundred skewers is fine, but I’m worried about your cholesterol!"

"Five hundred skewers? Sure, thank you for worrying about my health, Miss Scott. Let’s split it into batches for the five hundred." The old guy replied smugly.

Netizens exploded into laughter again, thinking Mary Scott had seriously lost out to James Jerome!

Right then, Zoe Thatcher retweeted Mary Scott’s post. "Mine’s five hundred skewers too? But Mary, I eat less, so how about dividing it into ten portions?"

Stella Murray didn’t hold back either. "Just woke up and caught the chaos. Miss Scott, don’t play favorites here; model my portion on Zoe’s."

Mary Scott replied to the trio with a single ellipsis, utterly dazed. She had truly never seen this kind of operation before!

The netizens were just as bewildered, echoing Mary Scott’s reaction. Seen scams before, but never ones this ridiculous? Ha ha ha, where’s the shame in these three?

And yet, this wasn’t the biggest scam. Just when everyone thought Adam Piers, the spoiled young heir, wouldn’t stoop to engage in such a trivial game, he finally logged on, leisurely chiming in after getting the gossip: "Five hundred skewers? I’m still growing, Mary, please arrange for a larger portion, thanks."

What the hell does ’still growing’ even mean?

Mary Scott: "..."

"Quick question, can I delete the previous post before it’s too late?" Mary Scott was genuinely feeling unworthy. Though her payment for this announcement had been substantial, she immediately wired most of it away, leaving little for herself. These people together could eat two thousand skewers, costing at least three to four thousand dollars—that’s not PR, it’s cannibalizing her budget.

Stingy Mary Scott felt deeply unworthy.

Adding to her sense of loss, netizens replied in unison that it was too late, even providing screenshots as evidence.

Mary hadn’t even had time to lament when James Jerome piped up in the group chat, "No time like the present. How about today? Are you all in Swallow City?"

Zoe Thatcher and Stella Murray immediately chimed in, while Adam Piers slowly raised his hand.

Mary Scott: "..."

She could almost hear the sound of her wallet shrinking. However, she considered that without these people, her scandal probably would’ve escalated further due to Duke Blue’s comments. Gritting her teeth, she said, "Fine. I’ll pick the place. Do any of you have dietary restrictions?"

The crowd cheered.

Only then did Mary notice that Duke Blue wasn’t in the group chat, significantly brightening her mood.

But while Mary was happy, others weren’t necessarily in the same boat.

Charlotte Leigh was furious, sweeping everything off her dressing table. After a cacophony of bangs and crashes, the entire makeup room was in chaos. The makeup artist from the show frowned, "Miss Leigh, these cosmetics were provided by the ’Detectives and the Secret Room’ program. You’ll need to compensate for what you’ve broken."

"You think I can’t afford this junk?" Charlotte Leigh yelled, completely disregarding the sweet and innocent image she’d previously cultivated.

The makeup artist frowned again but said nothing more, turning to walk out of the room.

Charlotte was still steaming. She couldn’t believe those fools like James Jerome would side with Mary Scott, even Adam Piers leaning toward her.

She didn’t know exactly what everyone else was thinking, but Charlotte knew Adam Piers very well—young master of the Piers family, seemingly spoiled and loose, but actually cold and ruthless. He switched partners as easily as changing clothes, never sincerely committing to any woman, unwilling to play along with the entertainment circle’s games. And yet, here he was, not only appearing on a relatively unknown variety show but openly favoring Mary Scott. Could Mary Scott be his latest fling?

Charlotte thought this seemed highly likely. Maybe they’d gotten the affair rumors wrong from the start?

Taking a deep breath, Charlotte opened her palm, bruised with blue marks from her own aggression, and dialed Duke Blue. "We haven’t lost yet."

Charlotte shared her suspicions, but Duke Blue was in no mood to play along anymore. His impatience clearly showing, he snapped, "Didn’t you say the male lead in Director Penn’s movie was definitely me? Then why am I hearing that Brian Joule has been cast instead?"

Due to his Twitter remarks, many netizens were now calling him a male gold digger, a schemer, and disgustingly greasy. He’d needed to spend a hefty sum hiring ghostwriters just to clean up his reputation. Despite these efforts, his behavior had exposed conflicts with other cast members, triggering another wave of poor reviews that might become a permanent stain on his career. He’d made such a fuss about discrediting Mary Scott only because of Charlotte Leigh’s resources, but now the resources were gone, leaving him with nothing but embarrassment.

Just the thought made Duke Blue furious.

Charlotte, clearly unaware of this situation, furrowed her brow. "Impossible! Director Penn personally guaranteed this to me. How could the casting change?"

Hanging up abruptly, Charlotte immediately tried contacting Director Penn. However, he wouldn’t answer. Desperate, she reached out to other project members, who apologized and informed her that the female lead wasn’t hers either.

Gripping her phone in a daze, Charlotte’s voice sharpened. "Why? Director Penn personally promised me! The contract’s already been processed. How is the lead changing now?"

"Sorry, I don’t know the details either," the project representative replied hastily, then hung up.

Listening to the disconnected tone, Charlotte hurled her phone across the room, only for it to hit the returning makeup artist. The artist’s face darkened as she stared at Charlotte.

"What are you looking at? At worst, I’ll pay you. Name your price!" Charlotte snapped, her attitude worsening with her pent-up frustration toward the ’Detectives and the Secret Room’ staff.

The makeup artist narrowed her eyes at Charlotte, then stepped aside to reveal the show’s director right behind her.

Charlotte froze, alarm flashing across her face. She scrambled to stand, but her high heels caught on the scattered remains of her wreckage, twisting her ankle painfully.

The program director frowned darkly. "Pack your things and get out!"

Charlotte winced, unable to understand the director’s statement immediately. "Director, I..."

"A third-rate actress with a bigger ego than the top A-listers. Our program can’t afford someone like you. Team, escort her out," the director barked, his tone cutting, not bothering to mask his disdain.

Charlotte finally grasped the gravity of the situation. "Director, please let me explain. I didn’t mean to..."

"And make sure she pays for those damages on her way out," the ’Detectives and the Secret Room’ director tossed over his shoulder as he left the room, his aura radiating contempt.

Charlotte wanted to chase after him and plead her case, but her ankle was throbbing. She turned to the lingering makeup artist, "You bitch, did you do this on purpose?"

The makeup artist let out a cold laugh. "Forgot to mention—I’m Director Howard’s daughter."

Charlotte froze mid-threat. "I..."

"Get out."

Charlotte was ultimately expelled from the program.

After being thrown out, the makeup artist turned to Michael Piers nearby. "Did she mess with you?"

"Not really." Michael shrugged, sending a video to David Locke. "How do you plan to thank me?"

David Locke replied, "Five hundred skewers of barbecue?"

Michael Piers: "..."

"Get out!"

Such cruelty!

But even crueler was Adam Piers, messaging David Locke leisurely, "Tonight your wife’s treating me to skewers. Has she extended the same courtesy to you? Oh, wait—I forgot, you’re separated. Speaking of Twitter, how do you plan to thank me? Shall we split the fifty million I invested?"

David Locke: "..."

After a long pause, David Locke drew a deep breath. "Address."

Adam Piers: "Agreed?"

"Agreed." David Locke gritted his teeth.

Adam Piers was satisfied. David Locke sunk into a gloomy silence for a while before asking Martin, "Keep an eye on Charlotte Leigh and Duke Blue. Report any movement immediately. Also... stir up more buzz about my separation with her."

Martin was baffled. This guy wasn’t helping his wife out but was instead inflaming drama about their split? Did he want his redemption arc to be an even harder mountain to climb?

Seeing Martin’s confusion, David Locke smirked inwardly. If the news didn’t blow up, how would she come to him to clarify things?

David Locke’s plan clearly fell flat. The scandal about their separation due to Mary Scott’s affair exploded online again, yet Mary showed no sign of approaching him for clarification.

This left David Locke agitated, his mood clouded with unease and frustration. These feelings hit a peak when Adam Piers posted a picture in their group chat, flaunting five hundred skewers at dinner.

The man seated in his study jumped to his feet. Martin hurriedly asked, "Director Locke, where are you going? You’re still running a fever!"

David Locke ignored him entirely, shrugging on a coat and heading out. Before long, he drove away from Rose Valley, steering toward Swallow University.

Swallow City during the New Year felt like a ghost town—brightly decorated yet eerily quiet. By the time David Locke arrived at the barbecue joint, Mary Scott and her group were already wrapping up their meal. His arrival caught her by surprise, though she quickly regained her composure and continued grilling for everyone.

James Jerome was the first to react. "Director Locke? Such an honor!"

Given James Jerome’s performance earlier that day, David Locke adopted an unusually cordial attitude toward the veteran comedian. "Mr. Foster, you flatter me."

His politeness was so out of character that Mary Scott couldn’t help but glance up at the pale-faced, stubbled man beside her.

David Locke felt Mary’s gaze and quickly looked at her, but she avoided him, lowering her head once more.

The group at the table quickly picked up on the strange vibe between the two. Skipping over Mary Scott, they enthusiastically invited David Locke to join them.

David Locke remained courteous but firmly seated himself next to Mary Scott. Adam Piers smirked, savoring the drama. Zoe Thatcher and Stella Murray exchanged looks of astonishment—everyone knew David Locke, an eccentric and aloof director notorious for his arrogance, yet here he seemed uncharacteristically mild!

The curious gazes naturally landed on Mary Scott. Rumor had it their relationship wasn’t deep, that David Locke had even kicked her out of their home after her supposed affair erupted. But looking at this scene now? It didn’t add up.

Confusion ensued!

Mary Scott felt the weight of everyone’s speculative stares, her discomfort rising. A freshly grilled skewer then appeared on her plate. She instinctively looked up to see David Locke withdrawing his hand. She wanted to refuse but, aware of the crowd’s presence, didn’t want to create an awkward moment. She could only bear the situation, though she didn’t touch the skewer.

David Locke clearly sensed Mary’s resistance but didn’t let it bother him. This time, he knew he was in the wrong—her anger was justified.

Yet, while their tension simmered, Adam Piers stirred the pot effortlessly, lounging back in his chair as he drawled, "Didn’t you and Miss Scott separate, Director Locke? Was it because of the scandal?"

The rest of the group froze, turning to Adam Piers as if asking, "Are you trying to pick a fight with him? Didn’t you say Master Adam entered the industry under David Locke’s tutelage?"

"It’s definitely just a misunderstanding," James Jerome interjected to mediate.

David Locke raised his eyes slowly, studying Adam Piers and the awkward group before turning to Mary Scott. "Did you hear that? Even Adam Piers, who’s hopeless at keeping girlfriends, is laughing at me. How about letting go of the anger and coming home tonight?"

Mary Scott trembled, shocked as she turned to face David Locke, unbelieving that this man, usually tough and unyielding, was softening toward her in front of everyone. His prior interactions—whether threatening, dismissive, or commanding—had been cold at best. For him to lower his stance publicly now? It felt surreal.

For a moment, Mary Scott felt her heart begin to thaw but quickly recalled how he’d outright rejected her in the heat of the scandal, slashing her with cruel words as if wielding poisoned daggers. Regaining her composure, she chose not to make a scene for the others’ sake. "We’ll discuss it later."

David Locke’s spirits lifted—was there still room for reconciliation?

Adam Piers, however, was miffed. If not for their shared woes, he wouldn’t have helped David Locke at all. And now, this guy brought up his private pain? What was this about not being able to hold onto a girlfriend? Did Locke think he had any better luck managing his marriage?

Seething, Adam addressed Mary Scott. "Miss Scott, men have a natural tendency for deceit—especially veterans in the field like Director Locke. When they sweet-talk, they’ll promise the moon and stars; don’t fall for it."

Regret bitterly flared within him—why did he bother helping this person?

Everyone else: "..." How did things escalate to retaliation? They only came for food and ended up with drama—and now, potentially, gossip-worthy revelations. James Jerome and Stella Murray watched inquisitively, while Zoe Thatcher kept her head low, lost in thought.

David Locke narrowed his eyes at Adam Piers. "Miss Swift was expelled from Swift family with nothing left. Now she’s staying at... oh, where was it again? Must be old age messing with my memory. Everyone, enjoy your meal. Thanks for treating my dear Mary here well during upcoming show recordings."

Mid-sentence, David strategically changed topics. Raising his glass, he toasted the group with a subtle smile.

Adam Piers maintained a stoic exterior, though under the table his left hand clenched tightly into a fist as a voice whispered in his mind—you shouldn’t care about that woman anymore. Yet after finishing his drink, Adam abruptly stood. "I’ve got to go; enjoy yourselves."

He turned toward David Locke, asking curtly, "Location?"

David Locke smirked faintly, tapping his phone’s screen. "Sent it to you."

Adam Piers glanced at his phone and left.

With the troublemaker gone, David Locke cheerfully resumed placing food on Mary Scott’s plate.

The group collectively thought: "..." Ruthless enough!

Suddenly, they felt quite sorry for Mary Scott.

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