Chapter 161: Chapter 161

"You’re still running a bit of a fever. Sleep a bit more; I’ve already called the doctor over." The voice as clear as spring water carried a hint of worry, causing Quinn Lockwood to be momentarily dazed, thinking she was perhaps dreaming, and pinched herself hard.

When she looked back at Elias Sinclair, he had already reverted to his cold poker face.

It was indeed an illusion.

Just as the doctor was about to give Quinn Lockwood a drip, Sylvia Lawson’s call came through.

"Hello, Savannah, it’s Sylvia. You’ve come back, right?" Sylvia Lawson’s expression was quite displeased, but her voice remained as coquettish and sycophantic as always.

"You really are something. We agreed to meet up, so why didn’t you get on the plane in the end? I was worried to death." Her tone made her sound genuinely concerned about Quinn Lockwood, her beautiful eyes gleaming as she walked over to the window in her high heels.

"What’s the matter?" Quinn Lockwood lowered her almond-shaped eyes, her voice turning cold. She always felt something was off about the island incident, especially with Sylvia Lawson’s unclear meeting points. Knowing she’d be returning soon, how could she have forgotten her bag?

Moreover, why had no one noticed she hadn’t actually come back?

Did they really think she, Quinn Lockwood, was that clueless?

Before she could finish pondering, the soft female voice on the other end spoke again: "Savannah, our new program is about to start recording. I heard from the director that you’ve taken several days off, but I only have this slot available now. I’ll be filming a new show soon and can’t let your personal matters delay the shooting schedule."

Quinn Lockwood figured that apart from feeling a bit weak, her wound wasn’t all that painful anymore. If she rested another day, she’d probably be fine for normal activities. After all, she’d injured her arm, not her leg, and could easily hide it with long sleeves.

She really liked her colleagues in the crew, and the director and producer had been kind to her. Although she didn’t want to deal with Sylvia Lawson and knew she was just making excuses, she also didn’t want to cause any trouble for the program team.

"I got it. I’ll come by tomorrow to pick up the script. If there’s nothing else, I’ll hang up now." With that, Quinn Lockwood directly ended the call, not wanting Sylvia Lawson to think she decided to participate because of her.

But as soon as she got up, Elias Sinclair’s stern face startled her.

"You’re still planning to participate in the program?" The man narrowed his deep, brooding eyes, and Quinn Lockwood felt the air pressure around her drop.

She nodded dumbly, only to have the man’s large hands firmly pin her against the bed’s headboard, leaning close to her ear: "Without my permission, you’re not allowed to go anywhere."

Before Quinn Lockwood could respond, the man had already straightened and left. At the door, he glanced back at her, coldly saying: "Stay home and don’t move around."

Seeing her obedient nod, Elias Sinclair’s lips curved just slightly in a barely noticeable arc.

In fact, Quinn Lockwood wasn’t truly adhering to his orders out of obedience; her compliance was more of an unconscious gesture.

After all, Quinn Lockwood was naturally lively and adventurous. How could she possibly stay cooped up obediently in one room?

It was baffling why this guy’s mood changed so erratically, calm one moment and stormy the next upon a few words. Quinn Lockwood really couldn’t understand what she might have done wrong.

Having instructed the household staff and doctors to take good care of Quinn Lockwood, Elias Sinclair headed straight to the "Real" program set.

The man, dressed in an all-black suit, occasionally tapped his long fingers against the armrest of the chair. The light emphasized his chiseled profile, exuding a more rugged sternness. With his eyes slightly raised, he scanned everyone in the room, emitting a chilling aura that sent shivers down their spines.

Sylvia Lawson was utterly captivated.

How could such a stunning man exist in this world? Unlike Dylan Quinn’s calm demeanor, this man was brimming with masculine charisma, making her want to kneel and worship.

"Who told Savannah Lowell to film?" The man’s icy voice reverberated in the program group’s hall, his face maintaining its usual indifference, yet causing the director to instinctively shiver.

If not for Sylvia Lawson claiming she soon wouldn’t be available, he wouldn’t have agreed to let her call to check if Savannah Lowell could shoot. It was originally the program’s oversight, and Mr. Sinclair’s forbearance was a blessing.

The director wished he could slap himself to plead for forgiveness; he regretted letting Sylvia Lawson make that call.

"It was me." Sylvia Lawson licked her red lips, swaying her hips forward with what she believed to be her most seductive smile towards Elias Sinclair.

This was her best opportunity to engage with him, and she was determined to make a good impression.

"Mr. Sinclair... you see, it’s the last episode of this program, and the ratings and feedback have been excellent. I was worried Savannah might delay the shoot and cause losses to the team... so I called to check with her." Sylvia Lawson’s eyes dripped with apparent affection, her voice sweet and enchanting.

She believed that someone like her—young, beautiful, and considerate—would surely be to Mr. Sinclair’s liking.

The man sitting in the main seat raised an eyebrow, his gaze instantly becoming sharp as he stopped tapping the armrest, scrutinizing Sylvia Lawson and the other team leaders.

Sylvia Lawson, noticing Elias Sinclair’s gaze on her, thought she had succeeded in capturing his attention. Her eyes grew even more tender.

"Who gave you the courage?" His voice was chilling, causing Sylvia Lawson to involuntarily step back, not daring to meet his gaze.

Her previously smug expression instantly turned pale.

How could this be...?

Under Elias Sinclair’s oppressive gaze, Sylvia Lawson felt like she was going to die; she had never felt this way before, her entire body starting to tremble uncontrollably.

The director, tightly clenching his fists, knew he couldn’t cower any longer in this situation. The program had barely started and couldn’t be ruined by him .

"Mr. Sinclair, I... I’m sorry, it was my oversight. I just wanted Miss Lawson to inquire about Savannah’s condition to see if she could... finish the shooting soon." The director spoke with his eyes almost closed, not daring to meet Elias Sinclair’s gaze.

Having lived for decades, he’d never encountered someone who could exert such intimidation just by sitting there.

Elias Sinclair pressed his thin lips together, slowly rising with long strides, his black custom shoes clicking, causing everyone present to shiver with each step.

"All shooting is suspended effective immediately. If I don’t say start, everyone waits." His icy voice echoed in everyone’s ears, carrying undeniable finality.