"Iris Lockwood, you!"
"Shut up, if you want to argue, take it elsewhere, not in front of me."
Evelyn Clayton frowned slightly in annoyance, turned around, and left.
Gnashing her teeth in hatred, Iris Lockwood spat.
"Ha, Matthew Sullivan, you’re nothing but an unwanted sycophant, showing off for whom?"
With that, she spun around and walked away, completely ignoring the livid Matthew Sullivan.
Inside the shooting location.
Since Summer Monroe got injured last time, progress has been delayed.
To catch up, Evelyn Clayton was on-site watching them work against the clock.
Iris Lockwood was shooting as the cover model, under the flash, looking like a little shining princess from afar.
Evelyn Clayton sat in the resting area, donning a short black strapless dress, revealing her fair and straight legs, crossed over each other, the pointy tip of her high heels lightly swaying.
Beside her, Matthew Sullivan sat down with a cup of coffee.
"Evelyn, are you tired? I can take over here, why don’t you go rest."
Evelyn Clayton ignored his coffee, her tone was harsh.
When she was alone with Matthew Sullivan, she couldn’t even pretend anymore.
On the stage, Iris Lockwood finished her shoot, returned to the rest area, seeing Matthew Sullivan fawning over the glamorous Evelyn Clayton, finding it a nuisance.
"Matthew Sullivan, you’re really suited to being a dog, a lapdog in front of your dad, a sycophant in front of Evelyn Clayton, is that your specialty?"
Then she sneered at Evelyn Clayton, raising an eyebrow: "Evelyn Clayton, don’t say I didn’t warn you, a dog is still a dog, its lowly nature can’t change!"
"You!" Matthew Sullivan’s face turned livid. Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on novel•fire.net
"Stop it." Evelyn Clayton’s crimson lips were incredibly alluring, yet her words were like ice: "During working hours, if you want to argue, do it outside!."
Iris Lockwood wanted to retort a few more lines, but was called away by a staff member with a serious face.
Within minutes, the entire photo studio echoed with Iris Lockwood’s piercing angry curses.
"What do you mean? Blaming me for your lack of ability? After taking so many photos, you’re telling me I didn’t perform well enough?! Do you know how much others pay me for a shoot?!"
Her singular scream echoed throughout the crew, and even Evelyn Clayton could no longer ignore it.
"Iris Lockwood, as I recall, this project was something you begged Matthew Sullivan for, now you’re not cherishing it, instead acting high and mighty, don’t want to do it anymore?"
Seizing a chance to mock Iris Lockwood, Matthew Sullivan was not about to let it slip.
He followed Evelyn Clayton’s words with a taunt: "Exactly! Iris Lockwood, don’t forget how you begged me for this opportunity."
Iris Lockwood’s face turned pale with rage.
"Give me the photos."
The photographer handed the tablet to Evelyn Clayton.
She lowered her eyes and skimmed through a few photos, and Iris Lockwood’s performance was indeed subpar.
Evelyn Clayton coldly uttered two words and returned the tablet.
At the sound of this, Iris Lockwood’s anger overflowed uncontrollably, gritting her teeth and shouting.
"Evelyn Clayton! Are you playing me!"
"So what if I am? And just a reminder, there’s a contractual obligation for the shoot, if you don’t perform well, I have the right to terminate you and demand compensation, the penalty fee is three times your pay."
Having said that, Evelyn Clayton cast a sharp and aggressive glance at Iris Lockwood, then turned and left.
Iris Lockwood was shocked.
Three times?! How much would that be?!
"Evelyn Clayton!" Iris Lockwood stomped her foot in anger.
But faced with the hefty penalty, she gritted her teeth, and used all her accumulated skills to reshoot a series.