Reborn as Mr.CEO's Fat Wife-Chapter 962: Yes, I’m the Best at Lying

Mary Scott was on the verge of breaking down into tears at David Locke’s question. Lie to him?

She admitted, it was indeed her fault, but hearing him admonish her so mercilessly made her heart ache sharply. She suppressed the slight trembling of her body to keep herself from crying. After a long pause, in a choked voice, she said, "You’re right, I did lie to you. Helena Marion’s exposé isn’t wrong. I was married to Lambert Norman in the M Kingdom, and yes, my father is Constance Scott. Dirty blood runs through my veins. I’m the best liar there is. So, can you let me go now?"

"You..." David Locke looked at her stubborn face, wishing he could bite her to death. But as his gaze met the swirling tears in her eyes, he couldn’t say another hurtful word.

He was at a loss for words, but Mary, desperate to cover her emotions, kept babbling, "Don’t worry. I’ll pay you back the money you spent on PR for me. I know you think I’m filthy, and I’ll move out of your place as soon as possible. Once this all blows over, we can go to the civil affairs bureau to finalize the divorce. Then, at the right time, we can make it public so it won’t affect your chances of remarrying or having children..."

When she mentioned children, Mary suddenly thought of the folic acid tablets in her bag. Since the last time David Locke hinted at it, she had been diligently taking folic acid, preparing in earnest to give him a healthy and lovely child.

But, just as she had feared from the beginning, all the joy and happiness were, in the end, nothing more than an illusion.

David Locke’s expression grew colder and his anger surged as he listened to Mary’s rambling. Suddenly, he grabbed a figurine from the desk and stuffed it into Mary’s mouth.

Mary was utterly heartbroken, her words becoming crueler, but she was abruptly silenced. Her eyes widened in protest, her muffled cries filled with disbelief at David’s actions. The figurine, covered in dust from being left out for who knows how long, scraped against her, and she reached up to remove it, only for David to hold her hand down. Her sorrow turned to fury as she glared at him angrily.

David Locke finally enjoyed a moment of quiet. Watching the angry, struggling woman, he sneered coldly, "Go on, keep talking!"

Enraged, Mary wanted nothing more than to claw David’s face, but her hands were pinned even tighter. Her muffled cries gave way to frustration—it was impossible to make him understand her pain.

The originally tense atmosphere took a sudden, almost eerie turn.

David took a deep breath and said, "I’m going to ask you a few questions. You only need to nod or shake your head. Got it?"

Despite being consumed by anger, David still couldn’t bring himself to give up on the woman in front of him. Yet her attitude tore at him painfully.

After some self-mockery, he continued, "You and Lambert..."

Buzz, buzz, buzz!

Before David could finish his first question, Mary’s phone started vibrating. Annoyed, he initially ignored it. But the repeated calls after the first auto-rejection grated on his nerves. Impatient, he reached into Mary’s pocket and pulled out the phone, only to be faced with a familiar number.

A number he had once blocked and later unblocked.

David’s last shred of patience was thoroughly obliterated. Amid Mary’s muffled protests, he tapped the speakerphone button.

"Mary, where are you? How are you right now? As soon as I got your call, I had people start handling it. The situation’s still escalating, but don’t worry, I’ll get it resolved. How are you doing?" Lambert Norman’s anxious voice came through the phone.

David’s heart instantly sank into the icy depths of the sea.

So, in the face of such a major crisis, the first person she reached out to was Lambert, followed by public relations. What did that make him?

He thought back to how he had taken the initiative to call her, only for her to avoid him, refusing to answer—the depth of her disregard stung. His lips curled into a bitter smile as he hung up the phone. Looking back at Mary, he said coldly, "Moll Scott, I really underestimated you!"

Just moments ago, David had been softened by Mary’s furious yet vulnerable demeanor, ready to give her another chance. Now, he felt like a complete fool. What did he even mean to her?

"Ha." David abruptly let go of Mary’s restrained hands, uttering a sarcastic laugh as he shoved the still-ringing phone into her hand. He turned resolutely and walked towards the door.

Mary stood frozen in place, staring at the man who had just said he wanted answers now turning and walking away. Her heart sank further with each passing second. That suffocating sense of panic rose again, worse than when he had been scolding and mocking her.

Acting on instinct, she tried to chase after him, but her legs buckled from the tension, and she half-collapsed to the ground. Her mouth opened, trying to call out David’s name, only to be reminded of the object lodged in her throat. She quickly pulled the dusty figurine out with her hands, disregarding how filthy it was. The sound that finally escaped her throat was hoarse and brittle, easily drowned out by the continuous vibrations of her phone. The man ahead had already opened the door.

"Dobbin Locke..." At the precise moment Mary’s voice croaked out, David stepped over the threshold. His footsteps paused. frёewebnoѵēl.com

The phone’s vibrations persisted, and Lambert continued to dial relentlessly.

David didn’t turn around, his tone unreadable, voice rougher than before, "Just do as you said."

With those words, David seemed to sever all ties, closing the door firmly behind him as he walked away—leaving no room for reconsideration.

Evidently, David had taken her earlier words to heart: "Don’t worry. I’ll pay you back the money you spent on PR for me. I know you think I’m filthy, and I’ll move out of your place soon. Once this all blows over, we can finalize the divorce, then make it public when the time is right, so it won’t affect your chances of remarrying or having children..."

At the time, David had stuffed the figurine in her mouth, silencing her. Now, he had agreed to her proposition. Why?

Was it because of Lambert’s call?

Previously, Mary’s panic and unease had left her disoriented and restless. But now, the sheer weight of despair engulfed her entirely, making everything before feel insignificant in comparison.

Her declarations of divorce and letting go had been mere acts of defiance, attempts to provoke him into refuting her, into saying he wouldn’t let go, wouldn’t divorce her—no matter how much pain it caused them both. Instead, he... agreed.

It was akin to a drowning person watching their last lifeline drift away, leaving them with nothing but emptiness.

Mary propped herself against the corner of a table, staring blankly ahead as her phone vibrated incessantly with callbacks. She wanted to cry but felt utterly undeserving of her own tears.

What right did she have to cry, when she had brought this upon herself?

Mary wiped the tears threatening to spill with trembling fingers, forcing a harsh admonishment upon herself: No crying! This was for the best. Now, he wouldn’t be dragged down by her any longer. He wouldn’t have to clean up after her messes or bear the misfortunes caused by being with her—not even his injured leg. She was nothing but bad luck to him. This was the best outcome...

"This is for the best..." She murmured the words aloud, as though trying to hypnotize herself, yet the ache in her chest only deepened.

Mia Anderson burst into the room just then and was startled by Mary’s reddened eyes and jaw. "Mary, what happened between you and Director Locke?" she asked worriedly.

Recalling David’s ominous demeanor as he left—a coldness fiercer than when he had arrived—Mia couldn’t help but shiver.

Mary scrubbed at her cheeks with force. "Nothing—it’s just that things are clear now, that’s all."

"Huh? What’s clear? If that’s the case, why did Director Locke leave looking so furious?" Mia muttered. This didn’t look resolved at all.

Mary didn’t respond to Mia’s query. Realizing she’d accidentally touched a nerve, Mia’s face shifted in remorse. If they had truly "cleared things up," wouldn’t Director Locke have accepted Mary’s past? If not, that meant things had fallen apart.

Looking at Mary’s tear-reddened eyes, Mia’s heart tightened. "Don’t be upset, Mary. Director Locke’s just struggling to process everything right now. When he calms down, I’m sure there’ll still be a chance to reconcile. Otherwise, why would he help handle the news and come to find you himself?"

"It’s too late," Mary murmured, thinking of how resolute David had been when he walked away. Her voice was soft, almost inaudible.

"What did you say, Mary?" Mia leaned closer.

"Nothing," Mary replied, snapping back to reality and offering Mia a strained smile, uglier than crying. "Where’s Kelly? How’s everything online?"

"Kelly’s been monitoring everything. Not much has changed—most people are distracted by that male celebrity scandal, so we’re safe for now. But since Helena Marion’s started targeting us, Kelly says we have to stay vigilant," Mia replied in a low voice.

Mary muttered acknowledgment and said no more, gazing blankly out the door.

Mia could tell Mary wasn’t in a good state of mind, but reporters had already sniffed out their location. Staying longer would only spell trouble. Mustering her courage, she asked, "Where should we go now, Mary? Back to Rose Valley?"

"Back to Rose Valley?" Mary echoed absentmindedly, the words weighing heavily. Could she even return? Under what pretense, and with what right?

Mia took Mary’s silence as agreement and pressed gently, "Yes, let’s go back to Rose Valley. Right now, Helena’s rumors about your past with Lambert Norman are already gaining traction. If you don’t return to Rose Valley, it’ll only validate the speculations, fueling worse assumptions."

"Oh..." Mary realized the gravity of the situation and uttered a dull "Oh." She had to go back to Rose Valley—but how? How could she face going back after the things she’d said, after his words before leaving?

Mia sensed Mary’s hesitation but grew anxious, urging, "Mary, stop dawdling. We need to hurry before reporters block us here."

"But...?"

"No buts! Kelly says she’s arranged for us to escape through the backdoor, avoiding reporters. She even found a low-profile van to keep us out of sight." Mary’s protests were cut off as Mia began pulling her out of the room.

At the entrance, they were met by Grace Rachel. Without uttering a word, she directed them toward a secured path out of the building.

Before Mary realized what was happening, she had been shuffled out of the skyscraper and stuffed into an inconspicuous van. Just as she was working up the resolve to ask the driver to take her to her brother’s place, Mia beat her to it. Setting up the navigation system, Mia instructed a new destination.

Mary, unable to get a word in edgewise, attempted to protest until her vibrating phone interrupted. Once again, it was Lambert Norman.

Hesitating briefly, Mary answered. Immediately, Lambert’s frantic voice spilled through, "Mary, what’s happening over there? Did reporters find you? Why didn’t you say anything when you picked up earlier? Do you need me to send someone to get you?"

"I’m fine," Mary replied, though her voice sounded terribly hoarse.

"Your voice is shot! I told you not to stress out. This can still be resolved. As for your parents, I’ve already arranged for someone to keep an eye on things, so nothing else gets leaked," Lambert added with concern.

Mary clenched the phone tighter. "You’ve handled the situation with my parents?"

"Yes. While looking into it, I discovered someone was deliberately steering the narrative toward your background. I’ve also reached out to Helena for negotiations. Don’t worry—everything will be okay." Lambert’s reassurance carried through the line gently.

Mary felt pangs of guilt. Reflecting on the unjust anger she’d directed toward him earlier because of David’s departure, she murmured a soft thank-you.

Lambert hesitated slightly, then said, "Mary, there’s no need to thank me. This isn’t your burden to carry alone. I’ll shoulder it with you."

Mary’s chest felt tight. She knew any further gratitude would only seem frivolous.

After hanging up, Mary scrolled through her phone and realized that members of the "Wilderness" program team had also been messaging to check on her, showing genuine concern. She opened the group chat where conversations had long surpassed 999 messages. Initially, the talk had been serious, but as the situation improved, the tone lightened. The conversation had even shifted to young Oscar Sam, the celebrity who had taken the media heat off her for the moment. At first, Mary hadn’t given it much thought, but when Simon Baker suddenly chimed in, revealing that Oscar Sam was Muse Entertainment’s rising star and that Lambert had pulled out all the stops to cover for her, Mary froze. So it wasn’t David behind the PR move but Lambert?

She had long resigned herself to not placing her hopes on David. Yet, seeing this revelation still pierced her deeply. Looking out at the rapidly approaching Rose Valley, she finally spoke, "Take me to Delight Hotel instead."

Mia blinked in surprise, turning to Mary. "Mary, is this... okay?"

If word got out that Mary had gone to Delight Hotel, wouldn’t it confirm the rumors that she and David Locke had fallen out for good?

"Just do as I said," Mary stated, lowering her gaze. She didn’t want to be thrown out by David again. Rose Valley wasn’t her home; being kicked out once or twice was enough. She couldn’t bear it a third or fourth time.

No matter how much she loved him, she couldn’t let herself lose every last shred of dignity.

Mia wavered, while the driver looked anxiously between them. "Miss Anderson, where should I go?"

"Delight Hotel," Mia conceded reluctantly, seeing Mary’s unshakable resolve.

As the car turned around, David Locke received the news, slamming a fist onto the back of the seat. The vehicle shuddered from the impact, and even the driver held his breath in fear.

After what seemed like an eternity, David raised his head again, his eyes bloodshot. Martin, sitting nearby, glanced at him nervously and cautiously offered, "Should I call Madam?"

David laughed bitterly. "No need. If she’s so desperate to get away from me, why should I degrade myself for her?"

Martin swallowed dryly. "Then... the news?"

David cast him an icy glare. Martin quickly nodded. "I’ll keep following up."

David’s voice turned cold and calculating. "What else does Muse Entertainment have that’s worth exploiting?"

Martin choked, realizing what David intended. The director wasn’t just done with Mary—he was ready to take down Lambert too.

Updated from fr𝒆ewebnov𝒆l.(c)om