Reborn as Mr.CEO's Fat Wife-Chapter 934: I Suspect He’s Holding Back a Big Move

Here is the English translation:

David Locke was sitting next to Mary Scott, watching the woman gulp down her milk in large swigs. He reached out and held her hand. "Take it slow; no one’s going to steal it from you."

"Huh? Oh." Mary replied distractedly and continued looking at her phone. David Locke simply reached over and snatched her phone away. Mary, looking flustered, asked, "What are you doing?"

"Focus on eating." David placed the phone aside and pushed the breakfast toward her.

Mary finally remembered she was having breakfast. She glanced begrudgingly at the man beside her, then a mischievous thought popped into her head when her eye fell on his leg in a cast. "Didn’t you say you wanted to join the recording of the second episode? I thought about it—fine, I’ll bring you along."

David Locke looked up and squinted at her. "Hmm?"

"Aren’t you left at home without anyone to care for you? I’ll bring you along so I can look after you," Mary said with a righteous air, as though it wasn’t her who had resisted bringing David Locke in the first place.

"Oh. To West Mountain? You’ll carry me?" David said leisurely, taking a bite of his fried egg.

Mary was speechless. How did he know?

Alfred Scott saw his sister’s stunned expression and couldn’t help but weakly mutter from the side, "Sis, maybe next time you could consider lowering the volume on your phone or asking your assistant to pipe down."

Reminded by her brother, Mary felt embarrassed and let out a dry laugh. "Forget carrying you. I’m going to pack now."

She quickly finished the remainder of her breakfast in one bite and dashed to the staircase, only to remember something halfway there. "Alfred, while I’m gone, you’re responsible for taking care of your brother-in-law!"

Mary deliberately emphasized "brother-in-law."

Originally just offering some sisterly advice, Alfred hadn’t expected to be punished for it. He looked at her plaintively. "Sis, no way!"

"What kind of man says he’s not capable? You’ve got this," Mary threw back casually without even turning around.

Alfred watched her departing figure in dismay. When he snapped out of it, he found himself locking eyes with David Locke, who was gazing at him steadily. Growing flustered, Alfred blurted, "Let me tell you, I’m pretty rebellious and don’t really listen to my sister."

"Oh, so are you saying you’re not capable?" David inquired lazily.

Alfred froze.

Under David’s "reject me if you want to prove you’re really incapable" look, Alfred took a deep breath and plastered on a smile. "Of course, I’ll take good care of you, dear brother-in-law."

"Take good care" was heavily emphasized.

David Locke smiled contentedly. "Then I’ll trouble you, Alfred. Your brother-in-law thanks you on your sister’s behalf."

Alfred was exasperated—who needed him to be thanked on behalf of his sister anyway? It made him feel oddly peripheral, as if David were closer to Mary than he was.

Before Alfred’s frustration could fully boil over, David Locke stood up, returned to his wheelchair, and pointed to the messy dining table. "Clean up properly."

Alfred froze again. Even though he usually cleaned up after meals anyway, today it felt particularly irritating for some reason.

By the time David Locke went upstairs, Mary had all but finished packing her luggage. When she saw David come in, she couldn’t help but think about all those tense events after the last shoot—the argument, the long night she spent sitting alone in the villa, and her disheartened departure. It had only been a few days, but it felt like ages.

Though they’d been getting along well these days, the real issues between them hadn’t been resolved. Their unspoken past hovered like a ticking time bomb, threatening to explode anytime.

Yet, their recent interactions had been so blissful that Mary couldn’t bear to disrupt it. She let out a small sigh and reached down to close her suitcase.

"Is that all you’re taking?" David asked after noticing how little was in her partially-closed suitcase, his brows furrowing in disapproval.

Mary glanced at the still-empty half of the suitcase. "It’s just two or three days—I don’t need that much stuff."

David’s furrowed brows showed no signs of relaxing. He stood up from his wheelchair and hobbled over to the wardrobe beside her. Opening it up, he reached deep inside and pulled out a thick, red cloak. "Take this."

Mary took the cloak from him, realizing that while it looked bulky, it was surprisingly light, with a soft and comfortable texture. Holding it for just a moment, she already felt the warmth spreading. "Wow, it’s so warm. How come I’ve never seen this before?" she asked curiously.

She didn’t remember this cloak being among the clothes David had sent to her before.

David felt a little awkward being questioned, coughing lightly to disguise his discomfort. He couldn’t possibly admit that, though they had been at odds, he still couldn’t resist picking out beautiful clothes for her whenever he saw them. He had even specially arranged for this particular piece to be brought back from a Milan runway.

Suppressing the emotions bubbling in his heart, David remained steady in his response. "You simply hadn’t noticed it before."

"Really?" Mary replied, skeptical but quickly getting distracted by how snugly warm the cloak felt. If she had this cloak, she probably wouldn’t end up cold.

She didn’t press any further, and David silently let out a breath of relief.

The crew’s flight was scheduled for three in the afternoon, and Mia Anderson arrived at the villa at one.

Ever since the car accident last time, Mia looked at David with nothing but guilt, completely devoid of her usual domineering attitude. Especially when she saw him sitting in a wheelchair, her remorse grew even deeper. "Director Locke, I’m so sorry."

David glanced at her nonchalantly. "You’re here to pick up Mary?"

"Yes," Mia nodded, then quickly added, "Don’t worry—this time, I’m not driving."

David shot her a look, then turned his gaze to Mary. "I’ve arranged a car and driver for you."

Mia looked at Mary in surprise, unsure how to react.

Mary herself hadn’t expected David to arrange such things. "It’s not necessary. I’m just going to the airport. If it weren’t for the holiday season making it hard to call a cab..." she started.

"Renting a car carries too much risk—not just the vehicle quality but also the drivers’ proficiency," David interrupted firmly, not allowing any rebuttal.

Mary was about to argue further but stopped short when she saw his resolute expression and glanced at his injured leg. Feeling a pang of awkwardness, she rubbed her nose and muttered, "Last time was just a fluke."

"A fluke? And what if that fluke had left me dead instead of just with a broken leg?" David retorted coldly. The anger welled up in him as he remembered the incident—that she hadn’t seemed to learn anything from it; she remained just as careless. Suppose the accident hadn’t involved him but her instead—how would he feel about that?

The mere thought of it made his chest tighten unbearably.

Mary froze at his words, the sharp pang of guilt rising in her chest as she recalled the horror she felt seeing David sprawled on the ground. Her emotions grew heavy, and she murmured, "Don’t say something like that."

Seeing her reaction, David didn’t push the topic further but maintained his stance. "You’ll take my car."

"Alright." Mary didn’t refuse this time.

David finally looked satisfied.

Mia, meanwhile, felt even guiltier because of David’s words. Hearing Mary agree, Mia hurried to say, "I’ll call the rental company and tell them we don’t need it anymore."

With that, Mia went off to handle things.

David gave a quiet acknowledgment before turning back to Mary. "Call me when you arrive. Be careful during the recording, and once it’s over, I’ll send someone to pick you up. Afterward, accompany me to remove this cast."

Mary nodded and reached for her luggage, but David seized the moment to grab her hand. Slightly puzzled, she turned toward him. "What’s wrong?"

"When you come back, let’s sit down and talk." David said softly. There had been so many opportunities to talk over the past few days, but he couldn’t bring himself to spoil the newfound harmony they’d managed to establish. He had kept pushing it off.

Mary’s hand trembled lightly in his grasp as her gaze locked on his deep, piercing eyes. She wanted to nod, but somehow her body didn’t move. And at that moment, Mia returned, and even Alfred couldn’t avoid speaking up awkwardly, "Sis, let me take your luggage for you."

The commotion shattered the delicate atmosphere between them. Mary secretly let out a sigh of relief. "I’m leaving now."

"Mm." David didn’t stop her, watching as Mary and the others exited the villa.

The driver had already been waiting outside for quite some time. To avoid drawing attention from reporters, the car wasn’t the usual Phaeton but a safer and less conspicuous Volvo.

As the group left, David looked down at the phone number he’d previously ignored and called Martin. "Did you find anything on the person I asked you to investigate?"

"Sorry, Director Locke. The person’s information seems to have been deliberately concealed. All we’ve discovered is that he’s an American citizen who entered Swallow City three days ago. The rest is blank," Martin said apologetically.

David’s brows furrowed tightly. "I see."

After hanging up, he paused for a while before dialing another number. It was Benjamin Jones. "Lawyer Jones, I have a favor to ask of you."

...

Mia Anderson and Mary Scott arrived at Longlive Airport by five in the afternoon. Without Duke Blue popping up to stir trouble, the trip was much smoother this time.

Outside the airport, they spotted the show’s crew waiting.

Once they boarded the vehicle, James Jerome, Stella Murray, and Zoe Thatcher were already inside. Mary greeted the three warmly.

After the previous interactions, they had all grown closer, with none of the earlier awkwardness remaining.

Once the greetings were exchanged, Simon Baker turned around from the driver’s seat. "Miss Scott, you greet Mr. Foster and the others but don’t greet me, your director. Is that fair?"

"What do you know? Mary’s just avoiding suspicion," James Jerome teased.

Stella Murray seemed genuinely surprised. "Huh? Director Baker’s here too? I didn’t even notice."

The group laughed.

As the mood turned lively, Zoe Thatcher coyly asked, "Hey, where’s Adam Piers? Isn’t he coming?"

No one noticed Zoe’s slight blush, but all eyes did turn toward Simon Baker for an answer. Simon glanced at the time and replied, "Master Piers’ flight is delayed. I hope nobody minds waiting a little longer?"

The group collectively shook their heads. Despite Adam Piers’ dandy vibe, he wasn’t unpleasant to be around, and everyone had a good rapport with him. Waiting wasn’t a problem.

But Mary, keen-eyed as always, suddenly pointed to a doll nearby. "Director Baker, don’t tell me the live stream has already started?" freёnovelkiss.com

"What?!" Stella exclaimed.

James Jerome also glared at the production team, as if to say, "If you’re pulling this kind of stunt, I’m coming for you."

Zoe leaned toward the doll Mary had indicated and lifted it, revealing the camera concealed behind it. All the cast members fell silent.

"Director Baker, you’re dead!" Stella wasn’t taking it lightly. She was sporting no makeup, bundled up in a thick jacket, with black-framed glasses perched on her nose. While such attire was fine off-camera, it was hardly ideal for public viewing, especially for a female actress.

James Jerome hadn’t fared any better and had resorted to keeping his hands stuffed into his jacket sleeves to fight off the chill. His posture resembled that of an old man lounging by the village entrance.

What made it worse for the two was how perfectly fine Zoe and Mary looked by comparison.

Zoe, still new to the scene, was extra conscious of her appearance and rarely forewent makeup—even outside of filming—which ensured she looked flawless.

Meanwhile, Mary was barefaced like Stella, but her smooth, porcelain-like complexion meant her natural beauty shone through. In fact, her fresh-faced appearance likely made her look even younger—a far cry from Zoe, who now seemed older in contrast.

James and Stella couldn’t help but feel bitter. No wonder Director Locke was so fond of Mary.

Simon Baker didn’t look fazed by having his secret live stream exposed. Flashing them a cheeky grin, he said, "It’s part of the show’s requirements, dear cast members. Please pardon me. You might be thanking me later for an upcoming surprise."

"Ha!" The four of them scoffed in unison, clearly not buying into the idea of any "surprise."

Simon merely shrugged off their disdain. "Patience, everyone. I’m serious—it’s a genuine surprise, and it’ll be here soon."

Stella chuckled dryly. "What is it? Are you going to tell us the production team managed to bring in some big-shot celebrity?"

This season of "Detectives and Wilderness" had been wildly successful, garnering excellent viewership and online engagement. Even Stella, who hadn’t landed a decent role in over a year, suddenly had offers flowing in—all with substantial screen time. The same happened to James and Zoe.

But while the buzz surrounding the show was incredible, it was fleeting. Much of its success stemmed from Mary and Simon Baker’s scandal breaking out, coupled with Director Locke’s industry reputation, which brought a torrent of attention. Throw in Duke Blue’s antics as a third-tier celebrity, and the program’s heat soared higher.

Yet no one expected the second episode to reach similar heights. It was impossible.

Big-name stars with solid representation wouldn’t take such jobs lightly. Their appearances were calculated not only by metrics like popularity but also by the show’s tone and production merit.

With "Detectives and Wilderness" leaning heavily into trends, it was unlikely top-tier celebrities would be interested. Even if one was, the production budget couldn’t accommodate them.

The others burst into laughter, finding the notion as implausible as Stella had.

James, still chuckling, said, "Alright, Director Baker. If you do manage to book a big-name star, I’ll smash a concrete block on my chest!"

Zoe raised her hand enthusiastically. "And if Uncle Foster goes through with that, I’ll perform a live makeup removal!"

"Haha, nice. You two are really something," Stella teased, playing along. "I’ll think about what I can add in—how about a reverse impersonation of Mr. Foster here?"

James burst out laughing. "Now you’ve got me hoping for that new guest arrival."

Turning to Mary, he added, "Mary, aren’t you going to make a bet as well?"

"Nope," Mary refused flatly. "I saw Director Baker’s expression after you guys made your bets, and I don’t trust him right now—it looks like he’s hiding something big."

Zoe looked at Simon. "Is that true?"

Simon quickly put on an innocent grin. "Why would I? I’m such a straightforward person. How could I possibly have an ’eerie expression’? Miss Scott must be mistaken."

James chuckled nervously. "Someone calling themselves ’straightforward’ just gave me the creeps."

Stella nodded in agreement. "Mary, are you sure you didn’t misread him?"

"I’m certain," Mary declared. There was no doubt in her mind.

Stella trusted Mary’s judgment. "Is it still possible for me to take back what I just said?"

The question was accompanied by her pitiful pleading eyes aimed straight at Simon, swiftly joined by both James and Zoe.

Simon chuckled mischievously. "Too late for that. Although, all of you could team up and make Miss Scott add a wager too. If we’re going for collective suffering, we might as well go all in."

The moment he said that, the three immediately turned their eyes toward Mary.

Catching their intent, Mary stumbled backward, crossing her arms defensively. "What are you trying to do? Help! Save me!"

The live-stream chat lit up with laughter. Quick-thinking viewers started typing questions:

"Wait, so there really is an A-lister joining the cast today?"

"No way, seriously?"

"Who is it? Spill!"

"..."

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