Fans had started to notice the sharply-dressed man sitting casually among them. Little did they expect that the man in the crisp suit was none other than the CEO of the Howard Group, mingling without a hint of pretension.
Typically, you'd expect a CEO to have an entourage of bodyguards flanking him, or at least to be tucked away in a private box. But here he was, seated among the regular folks like it was no big deal.
Ivy had thought about seating him away from the fans, where he could catch her performance from a unique, exclusive angle. But he had declined.
He felt that to truly see Ivy, the best perspective was at the front and center with the fans. His words made her blush.
"I'm just worried about you sitting with my fans. What if they recognize you and bother you? Or worse, what if someone decides to take a swing at you when no one's looking?" Ivy fretted.
Balfour raised an eyebrow. "Do I really have such a bad rep in your eyes? Or is it that your fans just don't like me?"
"Hmm…" Ivy pouted, "It's only natural that they don’t like you. After all, I'm a rising actress and I married you. A lot of them were heartbroken. They think I have a whole forest of opportunities ahead of me – why hanging myself on this single tree right now?
They're hilarious when they talk, you know? They're so earnest, advising me not to drown in love with you, suggesting you might just be toying with me. They've even said I should adopt a man's mindset, play with your feelings, then dust off and walk away, treating it all as a spicy chapter in my memoirs. That way, I could swim through the entertainment industry more easily."
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