Reborn as Mr.CEO's Fat Wife-Chapter 971: A Call from a Stranger

The words made Charlotte Leigh’s pupils dilate. Her swollen face showed an expression of relief, and she murmured softly, "I knew it... I knew it..."

Jocelyn Spencer didn’t interrupt her. She quietly waited for Charlotte to vent her emotions before leisurely saying, "Mary Scott has Director Locke protecting her. You should stop targeting her. Look, in the end, it’s not only miserable for you, but using her power alone, she rescued Mary Scott from dire straits. Do you know how much of the public’s criticism your current situation has shielded for her? Furthermore..."

Jocelyn paused at this point, giving Charlotte a meaningful look.

Charlotte, who had already been stirred up by Jocelyn, asked urgently, "Furthermore, what?"

Jocelyn looked at Charlotte’s bloodshot and furious expression. Knowing her aim had been achieved, she no longer kept it ambiguous: "I got an inside scoop from a reputable media outlet in the industry. Mary Scott is hosting a press conference at nine this morning, likely aiming to use your situation to clear her own name."

"Someone like her with that kind of background wants to clean up her reputation? On what grounds? Does she really think she can step on me to brush away all those scandals? Just wait and see if I’ll allow it!" Charlotte was already both injured and furious, but she couldn’t afford to provoke Erica Hamlet. Meanwhile, Jason Emerson proved to be useless. With nowhere to vent her pent-up rage, Jocelyn’s words shifted all her accumulated hatred toward Mary Scott.

Yes, all of this was because of Mary Scott—she was the one who had caused Charlotte’s current predicament!

Already harboring deep-seated envy and hatred for Mary Scott, Charlotte now wished she could tear her apart. She muttered under her breath, "Why her? After what I’ve been through, how could she come out unscathed? Since I’m going to hell, might as well drag her down too!"

Jocelyn coldly chuckled, watching Charlotte immersed in overwhelming hatred, then turned and left the hospital room.

If she hadn’t investigated the matter thoroughly, she would really have believed Charlotte’s situation was coincidental. Thinking about how she spent so much money suppressing Charlotte’s scandal, garnering quite a bit of sympathy for her, all so Charlotte could please Mr. Lamb, snag the lead role in an ancient drama, and make it big. She had hoped to redeem the humiliating loss she suffered at Mary Scott’s hands, but unexpectedly, David Locke’s cunning maneuver ruined everything.

Considering her recent plight at the company, Jocelyn threw a glance at Charlotte’s hospital room, silently hoping this foolish girl wouldn’t disappoint her again.

After Jocelyn left, Charlotte could no longer bear to lie in the hospital bed. Charging her phone and opening the trending topics, she immediately saw hashtags like #CharlotteLeighHomeWrecker, #CharlotteLeighBeatenByWife, and #CharlotteLeighPregnant alongside others about her scandals. Clicking on them revealed videos of her being caught in bed by Erica Hamlet, beaten and humiliated publicly. The comments either berated her or cheered for Erica, while her private messages and mentions were overflowing with insults at 999+ unread.

Charlotte had been through such a public disgrace half a month ago, but this instance was even more insane than the last, with far nastier remarks. Even the tag #CharlotteLeighLeaveTheEntertainmentIndustry was gaining momentum.

Sitting on the hospital bed, fists clenched tightly as she stared at the screen filled with abuse, Charlotte’s mind repeatedly returned to the fact that Mary Scott was behind all this. Throwing her phone aside, she struggled to get out of bed, heading for the corridor.

The sky was not yet bright, and there were few people in the hospital hallway. The entertainment reporters who had been hounding her were blocked outside the hospital; otherwise, Jocelyn wouldn’t have been able to come in. It didn’t take long before Charlotte found Jason Emerson’s hospital room.

After Erica Hamlet left the hotel post-beating, she didn’t bother following up, so both Jason and Charlotte had been sent to the same hospital. Charlotte woke up the dozing nurse at the nurse’s station and endured the disdainful look she received when asking for Jason’s room number. She dragged her battered body onward.

Compared to Charlotte, Jason’s injuries were lighter, but a blow to the head with an ashtray had caused bleeding—his head was now half bandaged, concealing his thinning hair, which made his features seem more refined. Unfortunately, Charlotte had no interest in admiring him now. Upon entering, she raised her hand and slapped Jason hard across the face.

Jason, jolted awake from his sleep, felt his face’s pain pulling at the wound on his head. He instinctively began cursing at her loudly.

Charlotte, her face swollen like a pig’s, glared at Jason emotionlessly.

Caught off guard by Charlotte’s chilling expression, Jason’s abuse faltered as he uneasily asked, "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? Obviously, I’m here to avenge my child!" Charlotte murmured darkly.

The dim lighting in the room and Charlotte standing in the shadows made her appear almost like a vengeful demon seeking revenge. Jason recoiled slightly and stuttered, "Charlotte Leigh, are you crazy? I didn’t cause the miscarriage—it was that insane woman’s doing! If you’re going to seek vengeance, do it against her, why come after me?"

Charlotte had always known Jason wasn’t worth much, but she hadn’t expected him to lack even basic decency. Her inner rage burned hotter, her voice rasping with fury: "It wasn’t you? If it weren’t for you, why would that crazy wife of yours come looking for me? If it weren’t for you hiding like a damn coward, would she have kicked me in the stomach? You’re nothing but a useless piece of trash!"

"You filthy tramp! I haven’t even settled accounts with you yet, and you dare show up to insult me? That bastard in your belly might not even be mine! You think I willingly slept with you? You threw yourself at me like the cheap harlot you are!" Jason had lived most of his life off others, and being called trash struck a nerve, causing him to cuss her out mercilessly.

Already accustomed to Jason’s shamelessness, Charlotte felt an uncontrollable fire boiling inside her. Pointing at him, she spat, "You..."

Her fury was so overwhelming that she couldn’t find the words to curse him back, which ironically brought her some clarity. Recollecting her true purpose for coming, she took a deep breath and softened her tone. Her eyes moistened—though the usual pitiful charm she used was ruined by her swollen face, leaving her with a macabre appearance. Jason found her so repulsive he leaned back in disgust.

Charlotte noticed this and felt a chill in her heart as she dug her nails into her palm, forcing herself to stay composed. Still, she kept her tone pleading, "Jason, I’m sorry. I was acting impulsively earlier. It’s just that losing our baby has devastated me..."

She lowered her head, appearing more sorrowful and broken. Having spent some time with Jason, Charlotte understood his cowardly and superficial personality well—if she tried to confront him outright, she wouldn’t gain anything. Thus, she swallowed her disgust and apologized.

As expected, her words slightly softened Jason’s expression, though he still snorted coldly.

Charlotte didn’t mind. She pressed on toward her goal, saying, "Jason, do you know who set us up this time?"

His reaction was immediate: "Who?"

"David Locke, Mary Scott’s man. He’s the one who informed your wife and the media about us, orchestrating everything to ruin us," Charlotte replied, her voice heavy with barely suppressed hatred whenever she mentioned David and Mary.

Jason had already found last night’s events suspicious. Not only did Erica suddenly show up, but the media swarm was equally unexpected. Hearing Charlotte’s explanation, everything clicked; they had been set up.

Remembering the humiliation he suffered and Charlotte’s lost child (even if he feigned indifference), Jason seethed with anger. He had hoped Charlotte would give him a son; now, everything was destroyed, and Erica’s wrath remained an uncontrollable storm. Thanks to Charlotte’s instigation, he suddenly had a tangible target for his rage.

Jason’s face darkened as he asked Charlotte, "Are you sure?"

"Of course. Who else would go to such lengths? Do you have any idea how much the trending scandals about me have buried Mary Scott’s own scandals? They’re even planning a press conference this morning to whitewash themselves, using us as their shield!" Charlotte added fuel to the fire, watching Jason’s shifting expression.

The fall Jason suffered was almost parallel to Charlotte’s. While he had been admitted to the hospital, Helena Marion’s team had been taken over by another party, his bank accounts frozen—a storm of repercussions awaited him back home. And to think David Locke and Mary Scott still wanted to use him to clean their name? Ridiculous!

Grinding his teeth, Jason looked at Charlotte and asked, "Do you have any ideas for getting back at them?"

Charlotte had been waiting for this moment all along. Standing in the dimly lit hospital room with her swollen face, she replied darkly, "Didn’t I ask you to investigate Mary Scott’s younger brother earlier? She only has this one brother and has always protected him fiercely. Do you think she’ll have the heart to use us to clean their slate if something were to happen to him?"

Jason frowned slightly. "You mean her brother, the one attending Swallow University?"

"That’s likely the one. What’s the matter? Losing your wife’s aura of power has left you incapable of dealing with just one person?" Charlotte sneered, using her familiarity with Jason to provoke him.

Sure enough, Jason’s expression shifted at her words. He glared at her and growled, "Don’t underestimate me! Mary Scott and her family ruined me and you—you can rest assured I won’t let them off lightly. Since she values her brother so much, I’ll deal with him later tonight!"

"Just make sure you leave no loose ends behind," Charlotte replied in satisfaction.

"Don’t you ever doubt me!" Jason barked rudely, though the motion clipped his forehead injury, making him twitch in pain. He pointed at his phone. "Hand it over."

Charlotte complied, handing Jason his phone and watching him dial a number.

Once he finished the call, Jason smirked menacingly in Charlotte’s direction: "Rest assured, handling this is no problem for me."

Having achieved her goal, Charlotte didn’t bother continuing the charade with Jason and left the hospital room.

Outside, the sky was gradually lightening, and the hospital’s corridor filled with more people. Charlotte kept her head low, avoiding the crowd as she returned to her room.

...

Press conference venue.

Ten minutes remained before the press conference was set to start. Mary Scott stood, looking at herself in the mirror. Her tomato-red lipstick, applied generously, gave her a healthier appearance. She pushed stray hairs behind her ears and turned to Mia Anderson, who had just returned from checking the scene in front. "Are the reporters here?"

"Yes, but Mr. Norman only arranged for five media outlets to attend. Security is tight; there won’t be any unrelated personnel barging in. Just don’t get too nervous," Mia whispered to her.

Mary nodded. "Alright."

She was ready to enter the venue when her phone suddenly rang. In the quiet backstage area, it felt particularly abrupt. Already stepping forward, she froze mid-motion, glancing nervously at her device.

Mia was startled too and quickly reminded her, "Mary, you forgot to set it on silent."

Mary snapped back to her senses, pulling out the phone. Seeing that the caller wasn’t David Locke or Assistant Jonah, she exhaled quietly and pressed decline. Yet the number persisted, calling again immediately.

Furrowing her brow tightly, Mary answered hesitantly.

Mia whispered at her side, "Sis, hurry up—the conference is about to start!"

Before Mia could finish speaking, Mary’s face suddenly turned pale. Her voice trembled as she asked, "Are you serious?"

The person on the other line seemed to say something shocking because Mary unexpectedly turned and bolted outside.

Mia instantly realized something was wrong and chased after her. "Mary, the press conference is about to start—where are you going?"

Perhaps out of sheer panic, Mia’s voice grew louder, startling the reporters in the front row into looking toward the source of commotion. They caught sight of Mary Scott’s familiar silhouette rushing toward the hotel entrance.

The entertainment reporters, bewildered by the situation, were momentarily stunned. What was happening?

The faster ones immediately sprang into action, following Mia as she ran.

Mary dashed outside, a chilly February wind slamming into her slender figure dressed in a tailored women’s suit. The cold made her shiver violently, but she merely brushed off the discomfort, continuing toward the road and reaching out to hail the nearest speeding cab.

Lambert Norman, still present at the scene, wearing his Bluetooth earpiece, heard his team’s security captain report the commotion. He turned his head to see Mary charging out of the building and immediately commanded, "Drive the car forward."

While he didn’t know what had occurred, Mary’s urgent behavior at such a crucial moment could only mean something serious.

Without hesitation, the driver ignited the car’s engine, pulling up beside Mary, just as Mia and the reporters gave chase.

Lambert lowered his window, calling authoritatively to the flustered Mary against the winter gusts: "Get in the car!"

Mary snapped out of her daze, and her eyes finally regained focus. Recalling the room call from Alfred’s roommate, she wasted no time scrambling into the car. "Lambert, take me to International Hospital!"

"Head straight to First Hospital," Lambert directed the driver.

With the car now moving briskly, Lambert glanced at Mary’s reddened eyes and asked in a low, worried tone, "Mary, what happened?"

"Alfred’s roommate said he went to the library this morning and was struck by a falling flowerpot. He’s already been taken away by an ambulance!" Mary’s voice cracked, and her eyes filled with panic upon recalling her brother’s roommate’s description of the scene, which included blood pooling everywhere and bystanders claiming the injury was severe.

Her brother had undergone a meningitis operation just six months ago; now, this sudden accident... Mary choked up, unable to bear imagining further.

She couldn’t fathom why fate continued to spare her while continually punishing her brother.

Lambert’s face turned grim upon hearing Mary’s explanation. "Calm down. Since the ambulance has already intervened, worrying excessively now won’t change anything. Let’s wait until we reach the hospital to understand the situation."

Mary managed an uneasy nod, her whole body trembling as she sat stiffly in her seat, thoughts messy and whirling uncontrollably.

Lambert, noticing the extent of her distress, intended to offer reassurance but noticed several vehicles tailing their car—likely reporters. His frown deepened, and he promptly called his assistant to deal with the matter as swiftly as possible.

When they arrived at the hospital, Mary didn’t wait for the car to stop fully before bolting toward the entrance. Familiar with the layout (she had been hospitalized there before), she headed straight for the emergency room.

Fear consumed her—if something truly happened to Alfred, what would she do?

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