Thinking of something, Clara said to Balthazar, "Hey, Balthazar, let's give Uncle Wu some money tomorrow. In the end, if they really want to hold someone accountable, it won't do us any good."

So she wasn't even given a chance to speak, and all the blame was pushed onto her?

"What do you mean, 'no good'? You're a woman—why do you care about stuff like this?" Balthazar snapped.

Clara muttered under her breath, "I'm just thinking for Aurelia's sake. There's so much gossip around celebrities. If the news about her car accident gets out, who knows what kind of stories the media will spin. If we don't shut Uncle Wu up, what if he says something he shouldn't to the press…"

"Are you done?" Balthazar said impatiently, frowning hard, his face clouded with irritation. "You've been nagging nonstop since you walked in. Uncle Wu has worked for this family for years—I know exactly what kind of person he is. Don't act like some gossiping hag, badmouthing people behind their backs."

Seeing Balthazar angry, Clara wisely stopped talking, lowering her voice and sounding just a bit wronged. "It's all my fault, everything's my fault. I just can't help overthinking, always worrying about you guys."

If it had been before, Balthazar definitely would have at least said a few words to comfort her, but with Aurelia just having been in a car accident—and then tonight Mason Nightshade bringing her home—

Could Mason be up to something?

Could he already know about that matter?

The more Balthazar thought, the more agitated he became. He couldn't hear a single word Clara was saying, let alone comfort her.

Clara put on her pitiful act for ages, but Balthazar never came to comfort her. Curious, she snuck a glance at Balthazar; when her eyes swept across his gloomy face, her heart gave a nervous jolt.

This time, did she actually make him angry?

No way, she'd played this move so many times before—it always worked. He thinks he owes her, so he'd never really lose his temper with her. What's going on today? Where did it go wrong?

No matter how Clara tried, she couldn't figure it out.

Laughter rang out, and Aurelia lifted her crimson lips in a bold, dazzling smile. She said, "No need to worry about me, Aunt Clara. Tomorrow for breakfast I want something Western—make me fried eggs and toast."

With that, Aurelia headed upstairs.

Clara tightened her grip, her face flickering between red and green in embarrassment and anger.

What she hated most was when Aurelia called her "Aunt Clara." From the moment she became a maid in this house, Aurelia always referred to her that way—it'd been more than a decade, but she still did.

Clearly, she's always just thought of her as a servant.

She'd been the lady of this house for over ten years now; not a single servant dared ignore her mood—except for her.

Except for this little bitch!

The more she looked at her, the more she got on her nerves. Why couldn't the car have finished her off today?

-

That afternoon at the hospital, Aurelia called Sawyer, told him what happened, and that she couldn't make it to the set.

Sawyer sighed that she was just having bad luck, and told her to visit a temple, get a talisman for protection, and carry it with her for peace of mind.

Aurelia thought it made sense. The last few years she'd either been hurt by assholes or caught up in all sorts of "accidents." She really could use a talisman.

The day after "You Are My Star" wrapped, Aurelia went to the most famous temple in Q City to pray for good fortune.

She wasn't sure if the temple was always this lively, or if it was busier today, but there was a crowd. She admired the scenery as she took in the peaceful sounds of insects, and before she knew it, she'd reached the main hall.

Imitating those ahead of her, she pressed her palms together and closed her eyes sincerely in prayer.