It was Bryan.

  He had just stepped out of the elevator when he saw the chaotic scene at the hotel entrance. Looking closer, he realized the person trapped in the middle was none other than Chloe.

  Almost instinctively, he rushed over in long strides, arriving just in time to block the flying thermos. The bottle seemed to be filled with water—it was heavy enough to make his forearm ache from the impact.

  Were these people insane?

  Forgetting everything else, his first concern was Chloe's well-being.

  Driven by an instinct to protect her, Bryan pressed close, his body almost flush against hers. One arm wrapped around her shoulders, half-embracing her, shielding her against his chest.

  Bryan's sudden appearance and this intimate gesture toward Chloe instantly pushed the already volatile extreme fans to a new peak of frenzy.

  "Bryan! Give us an explanation!"

  "Don't touch her! I won't let you touch her—let go!"

  "Why did you film that kissing scene? Why didn't you fake it?"

  "Explain yourself! Do you just not care about our feelings at all?"

  The situation teetered on the edge of total chaos. Fortunately, Bryan's team included several men and two bodyguards designated to shield him from fans. Together, they quickly formed a barrier, separating the central group from the surrounding fans.

  Marcus felt his vision darken—he literally wanted to die. But remembering his responsibilities, he forced himself to negotiate loudly, "Everyone, calm down! Don't hurt anyone!"

  His lone voice, however, was drowned out entirely by the screaming and questioning of the female fans, making no impact whatsoever.

  Initially, Bryan had been willing to calmly explain himself, no matter how unreasonably the fans behaved. But at this moment, his only thought was to get Chloe safely into the van. Any desire to communicate with these people had evaporated.

  Soon, hotel security and drivers from several shuttle vans joined the effort. Finally, they managed to bundle Chloe into her van.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "Chloe, are you okay? Were you hurt?"

  Taylor was still crying, but she wiped away tears to check on Chloe's condition.

  Chloe was genuinely frightened, but she forced herself to act composed, shaking her head. "I'm fine, Taylor. Please don't cry."

  Taylor felt nothing but indignation on Chloe's behalf. Wiping her tears, she sobbed, "These people are insane! Why take it out on you? The moment Bryan showed up, none of them dared lay a finger on him—they just pick on us because we're easy targets!"

  Chloe handed Taylor a tissue, her gaze drifting through the van window. Outside, she saw Bryan boarding his own van, escorted by his team. The fans relentlessly pounded on the windows, demanding answers. Some were even crying, tears and snot streaming down their faces.

  Chloe had long heard about this twisted fan culture, but witnessing it firsthand revealed its true madness.

  She couldn't comprehend it, nor could she muster any respect for this style of fandom.

  It was absolutely terrifying.

  Once inside his van, Bryan noticed his sleeve had been torn. His expression darkened as he sighed. "Drive. Head to the set."

  Marcus was in worse shape. Protecting Bryan had cost him—his exposed arms bore several bloody scratches from unknown fans.

  But he had no time to complain. Worried, he looked at Bryan. "Bryan, aren't we going to explain? If someone posts that video online, it'll definitely cause an uproar."

  "I'll have the company issue a statement. I have nothing to explain to these people." Bryan's voice was cold.

  Initially, he'd thought that since these were fans who supported him, he shouldn't avoid them—he wanted to communicate directly. But witnessing that scene just now sent chills down his spine.

  They didn't see him as an actor. They saw him as their personal possession. Whenever he did something that contradicted their wishes, it triggered their twisted possessiveness.

  Absolutely absurd!

  And that thermos full of water, thrown without hesitation at Chloe's head...

  Thinking of this, Bryan quickly pulled out his phone and messaged Faye on LetsChat, recounting the entire incident. He specifically emphasized that any public statement must include a formal apology to Chloe for the distress she'd suffered due to this incident.

  Taylor had also immediately informed Wendy, who was in a meeting.

  "What?"

  After hearing Wendy's summary, Mr. Jones felt his head spin. He quickly asked, "Is she okay? Chloe wasn't hurt?"

  Wendy shook her head. "Not physically hurt. But she's soft-natured and timid—she must be scared. I'll fly over this afternoon."

  Mr. Jones immediately arranged, "Take four security guards with you. Apart from when she's on set or in her hotel room, ensure they're with her every moment, protecting her safety."

  Wendy agreed, then reminded Mr. Jones, "You should contact Miss Dorothy immediately. Explain the situation proactively—don't hide anything. I feel she's relatively rational. This was entirely an accident; she probably won't hold it against the company."

  "Besides, this won't stay hidden. Bryan's side will inevitably issue a statement, and videos will likely circulate online. If Miss Dorothy learns about this passively, she might actually get angry."

  "I understand." Mr. Jones nodded, pulling out his phone to draft a message to Grace, explaining this bizarre morning incident.

  Grace had just finished her morning run on the treadmill with Scarlett in the home gym.

  Charles arrived again, carrying two large assembled lunchboxes.

  After silently arranging various breakfast items neatly on the table, he turned to leave. Grace quickly shot Scarlett a meaningful glance.

  Scarlett spoke naturally, "Thanks for your hard work. Appreciate it."

  Charles's departing figure froze mid-turn. He twisted around, staring at Scarlett with a bewildered expression.

  Scarlett blinked, maintaining a warm smile. Tilting her head slightly, she asked, "What's wrong?"

  Snapping out of it, Charles quickly lowered his head and shook it. "N-nothing. I'll be going now."

  "Okay. Drive safely."

  Charles's body stiffened noticeably again, but he said nothing more and hurriedly left Grace's house.

  "Well? How was that?" Scarlett looked at Grace, eyebrows raised triumphantly. "Pretty natural, right? It's not that I couldn't say it before—I just never paid attention. I'm perfectly capable."

  Grace nodded approvingly, then after a moment's thought, couldn't help but remark, "You were natural, no problem. But Charles's reaction felt... strangely off."

  "He's always been strangely off. You'll get used to it."

  Grace smiled, about to sit down for breakfast when her phone rang.