Reporters with their cameras and microphones swarmed the entire tenement building, blocking every exit.
After closing my stall, I couldn't push my barbecue cart inside, so I had to walk.
My neighbour, Wendy Ziegler, spotted me and enthusiastically hooked her arm through mine. "Bridget, you've hit the jackpot! Your Jeremy is actually the Foster family's heir! Mr. William Foster just sent people to pick him up. You can go back with him and enjoy a life of luxury, too!"
Before I could react, Jeremy descended the stairs surrounded by a crowd.
I'd never seen him like this before.
Dressed in a well-tailored dark suit, he stood tall and straight, his demeanor dignified. He looked like the naturally gifted, overbearing CEO from an idol drama.
Next to him was my flatmate, Stella Lane.
When Jeremy's eyes met mine, his gaze was different from before—filled with the contempt of someone in a position of power.
A sharp-eyed reporter quickly asked him, "Mr. Foster, what is your relationship with the lady before you?"
Jeremy's eyes shifted away from me as he replied indifferently, "Just the housekeeper who's been taking care of me lately."
His answer made the neighbours gasp in shock.