CWMBR 69

Chapter 69

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Sponsored by Elisa. Thank you ❤️ (3/7)

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*Present

Unfortunately, Declan's smile of trust didn't seem to work on Bridget. Still, she didn't just shake her head.

Objectively, Declan's proposal was excellent. So much so that Bridget felt she couldn't thank him enough, no matter how many times she did. Bridget also sensed vaguely that Ronan wouldn't back down easily, and she feared she might witness something unpleasant.

Declan Rogers was someone who stood apart from the entrenched connections within the Glynford community, yet possessed more than enough capability to stand against them. He was someone Bridget desperately needed.

Bridget bit her lower lip hard and finally nodded.

"Then I won't refuse."

Where was she to refuse? Declan was a skilled lawyer before being Ain's representative; forming a connection with him could only be beneficial.

Declan laughed heartily at Bridget's answer and nodded.

"A wise decision. I'll prepare the contract and visit the Grand Theater as soon as possible."

"Okay."

Declan rose with a look of relief.

"You seem busy. I've kept you too long. I'll take my leave now. Enjoy your tea."

He bowed politely, then paused as he turned to leave.

"Ah! Even if it's not specifically about the agent issue, I can offer advice on other matters too. Like how to deal with rude reporters, for instance."

"Thank you for your concern."

Even as she replied, Bridget didn't imagine she'd ever find herself in a situation where she'd actually need such advice.

****

Did Declan actually have some kind of foresight?

Bridget found herself thinking that. It was when, on her quiet walk home, a mysterious man holding a notebook and pen suddenly appeared and blocked her path.

"Miss Bridget Pennington?"

He wore a hunting cap pulled low over his eyes and glasses. Though tall, his build was slight, giving him a somewhat gaunt appearance. Standing with a stooped posture, he scribbled rapidly in his notebook while addressing Bridget repeatedly.

"Or should I say Miss Bridget Wise?"

"………………If you insist on the precise title, you should address me as Mrs. Wise."

She couldn't see what the man was writing. The fact that he started taking notes before they'd even exchanged words marked him as a perfect suspect. Bridget watched his pen move busily with a wary gaze, then stared intently at his face.

"You're not from around here, are you?"

"Haha, do you know the faces of everyone who lives in Glynford?"

"Not all of them. But I do know the ones who write articles."

The man's smile faltered slightly at Bridget's words.

Up until now, the topic journalists seeking out Bridget generally wanted was one thing: the Grand Theater. Since Bridget was the owner, media outlets that followed protocol often published interviews with both Ronan and Bridget.

Otherwise, they'd rush in wanting to ask about Donna Green. In those cases, Bridget simply refused interviews. What they wanted was information about Donna's private life, and Bridget didn't want to spread rumors about her affiliated actress.

And judging by past experience, the man before her didn't seem to have come seeking her out for matters concerning the Grand Theater or Donna. That much was clear from the moment he addressed her as 'Bridget Wise'.

"Well, you really are as tough as they say."

He replied sarcastically, nodding as he jotted something else in his notebook. She was certain whatever he was writing down right now wasn't positive.

Bridget, her nerves on edge, asked in a stiff voice.

"What is it you want?"

"I'm columnist Shabo. I'm here on behalf of the many admirers who love Lord Ain Wise."

"I didn't know he had followers."

"Yes, and they are all deeply saddened by the tragic news concerning Lord Wise. The forced wedding was shocking enough, but now an annulment lawsuit?!"

Shabo exclaimed dramatically, throwing his arms wide and sighing. He immediately leaned toward Bridget, his glasses glinting.

"How do you feel, Mrs. Wise?"

Why asked about her feelings here, when Lord Ain Wise was the one in such a tragic situation?

Bridget, who had been staring at the man with dry eyes, tried to walk past him. But he blocked her path again as she attempted to avoid him and quickly fired off a question.

"You're on the verge of throwing away an opportunity you fought so hard to seize. Do you have another plan?"

When Bridget said nothing, he seemed to realize his question was too broad and added an unnecessary example.

"Like orchestrating another massive scam."

Bridget clenched her teeth. There was no point in a long conversation with someone like this. He'd blow one word from her mouth into a thousand and spread it far and wide. Since his goal was clearly a targeted interview from the start, ignoring him was the best strategy. Still, she couldn't help but refute his mention of a 'scam'.

"That's ridiculous."

"What? Are you saying the same trick won't work twice?"

"It wasn't a scam to begin with."

Shabo twisted his lips into a sneer at Bridget's firm retort.

"Ah, you still refuse to admit defeat."

“Defeat?”

She hadn't been competing against Ain in any contest. What exactly was there to lose? Shabo’s utterly preposterous statement left Bridget looking utterly dumbfounded.

"But soon everyone will know your outcome. Are you truly not inclined to offer your blessings for Lord Wise's new future?"

Bridget couldn't help but wonder if Ain had announced his marriage to some new woman.

When she finally fell silent, unable to follow the topic, Shabo clicked his tongue and urged her again.

"If you'd like to offer a belated word of support for Lord Wise's first love, please say something."

Ah, his first love.

Only then did Bridget grasp this man's true purpose. At first, she'd thought he'd simply come looking for an easy target like her to cover the Wise couple's breakup. But that wasn't his sole motive.

Encouraging media contacts who liked her to produce the desired articles was a tactic Donna often employed. It was one of the means that had propelled her to stardom at Glynford overnight.

Bridget looked down at her feet and let out a hollow laugh.

"How much did Donna pay you?"

"Huh?"

Shabo sounded flustered by the sudden question, her voice dazed as she repeated it. Bridget asked calmly, her voice unruffled.

"Does Donna want to get involved with Ain this time? Completely done with Mr. Emerson?"

Given Ain’s status, it wasn't unreasonable for the conversation to flow that way. Come to think of it, it started with her telling Ain that night that Bridget hadn't entered the duty room. She was the one who had pushed Bridget, yet she'd used her position as the sole witness to change her story – that shift itself implied a change in her feelings.

Shabo, momentarily flustered by Bridget's words, quickly regained his composure. He then put on a cold expression and swiftly picked out only the necessary words from Bridget's statement.

"Mr. Emerson? Are you perhaps involved with Mr. Emerson in any way? If, by any chance, the decisive factor in this annulment suit was the lady's infidelity, then an apology to Lord Wise would be in order..."

"Good heavens, madam!"

Shabo couldn't finish his sentence as a loud voice interrupted. Bridget turned toward the sound. Declan was approaching rapidly, his coat flapping behind him. Bridget looked stunned, completely taken aback by his sudden appearance in such an unexpected place. Meanwhile, Declan approached them naturally and spoke in a friendly tone.

"Why are you listening to all that nonsense? Even a dog barking would be more worth hearing than this!"

Shabo frowned at the dramatic yet blunt rebuke, scanning Declan up and down.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Mrs. Wise's legal representative."

Declan pulled a card from his pocket and handed it over. The moment Shabo took it, his face instantly drained of color.

"Declan Rogers...?"

"Yes, well. Seems you've heard of my reputation somewhere. My most recent achievement in Glynford was shutting down the Blombolt Newspaper. I must say, it was a clean and perfect job, even by my standards."

...was there another newspaper in Glynford named Blombolt?

Bridget doubted her ears as Declan shrugged his shoulders and proudly listed his accomplishments. At least the Blombolt newspaper she knew was one of the well-known media outlets in Glynford, a thriving daily newspaper.

Come to think of it, it seemed like the Blombolt Daily had been hard to find lately……………….