Reborn as Mr.CEO’s Fat Wife
Chapter 901: Lion’s Big Mouth Demand

Chapter 901: Chapter 901: Lion’s Big Mouth Demand

Mary Scott turned off the live broadcast, but her heart was still racing uncontrollably, as if it were about to leap out of her chest. However, she quickly calmed herself down—she hadn’t forgotten about this man’s messy scandals or the things he said to her that night. Him saying all that to the media must have been for his own image, right? After all, as one of the most sought-after directors of the moment, David Locke’s public persona was crucial.

Thinking about this, Mary Scott managed to quiet her heart somewhat, but she couldn’t deny that her mood had improved significantly.

By the afternoon, Mary Scott was mostly fine physically. Feeling restless in the hospital, she asked the doctor if she could be discharged, but the cautious doctor wasn’t sure and ended up dialing David Locke’s number.

The man rushed back after handling the reporters. Only after confirming that Mary Scott was truly okay did he agree to let her leave the hospital.

With the livestream clearing up the situation, the online public opinion about Mary Scott took a sharp turn. Although there were still plenty of haters cursing her, their numbers had decreased significantly compared to the morning. And thanks to the trending topic, she had gained tens of thousands of new followers—bringing her total to three million.

Three million followers might seem pitifully small for a slightly accomplished actress, but for Mary Scott—a former rising star who got buried and relegated to utility roles—it was quite the achievement.

Especially since Mary Scott was remarkably content for someone in her position. Just looking at the three million followers on her account made her genuinely happy.

David Locke walked in to see Mary Scott grinning foolishly at her phone. Curious, he asked, "What’s got you so happy?" Certain that it had to do with him speaking up on her behalf.

Thinking this, David Locke tilted his chin slightly, waiting smugly for Mary Scott’s answer and gratitude.

Mary Scott, still cheerful and paying attention to his demeanor, replied without even lifting her head, "My followers just broke the three million mark!"

The man waiting to be praised: "..."

So, she wasn’t going to thank him?

"Three years in the industry, an internationally successful hit film, and a mere three million followers—how’s that worth celebrating?" Naturally, David Locke, not getting the response he anticipated, didn’t hold back.

Mary Scott was a little displeased. "Why wouldn’t three million be worth celebrating? Sure, you’ve got more fans than me—but do you even have three million?"

Within the industry, directors generally have much lower visibility compared to actors. Although David Locke was quite famous among directors, he wasn’t a celebrity regularly in the limelight. Furthermore, he wasn’t the type to court public attention, and he probably didn’t even have a Twitter account. So Mary Scott’s line of questioning came with solid confidence.

David Locke twitched slightly at her words but said nothing. "Pack up your things; we’re leaving the hospital."

Mary Scott gloated at her perceived victory, shot the man a smug look, and got out of bed to quickly pack her belongings.

By the time they left the hospital, most of the reporters loitering outside had been sent away by David Locke. The journey was smooth, but as they neared Rose Valley, David Locke’s phone rang.

He glanced at the number, put on a Bluetooth headset, and listened. His brows furrowed shortly after. Turning toward Mary Scott, he said, "I’ll drop you off soon. I’m afraid I’ll need to leave for a few days. You and Alfred can stay here and keep safe."

Mary Scott noticed David Locke seemed unusually grave and wanted to ask what happened, but before she could, he was already calling the villa to have the housekeeper pack his belongings.

When they reached the villa, David Locke didn’t even get out of the car. He simply had the housekeeper load his packed luggage onto the vehicle.

Seeing David Locke’s hurried manner, Mary Scott didn’t know what to say. She watched as he finished loading the luggage, turned to look at her, and said, "I’ll do my best to return by New Year’s Eve. If anything happens, just call me."

"Okay." Although countless questions swirled in her mind, Mary Scott ultimately just nodded sweetly.

David Locke smiled in satisfaction, got into the car, and left.

Mary Scott stared at the car getting smaller in the distance, then sighed as she walked back inside the villa. Compared to the cold, solitary atmosphere she endured while living here alone, today was much livelier with Alfred around. As soon as she stepped in, she heard her younger brother’s voice: "Sis! Are you okay now? Where’s brother-in-law?"

While speaking, Alfred Scott tried to peer behind Mary.

"Stop craning your neck. He’s not here; he had to leave for a work trip." Mary Scott pushed her brother’s head back, then suddenly remembered something. "Why are you calling him brother-in-law so smoothly?"

Yesterday, with David Locke close by, she couldn’t really scold Alfred. But now it was different—she’d never seen him switch allegiances so fast!

"What else should I call him? You two are married, aren’t you? Calling him brother-in-law seems perfectly reasonable." Alfred answered matter-of-factly. Of course, it was mainly because David Locke had left a lasting impression on him. He’d always believed the man would someday be his brother-in-law, which was why he hadn’t found his sister’s sudden marriage surprising.

After all, in his eyes, if David Locke was going to marry his sister, then it wasn’t a matter of "if" but "when."

This situation, to him, was practically the epitome of "what is meant to be will come to pass."

Mary Scott was speechless at her brother’s logic and found herself helplessly staring at the ceiling in mock despair.

But the dramatic moment barely lasted before her phone vibrated. She checked the number and frowned slightly—it was Jocelyn Spencer. Remembering the manager’s threat from earlier in the day, she answered solemnly, "Miss Spencer."

"Mary!"

The overly sweet and cloying voice made Mary Scott shiver. "Miss Spencer, is there something else?"

Jocelyn had asked her to deal with her own scandal earlier that day. Now that David Locke had publicly clarified the situation, Mary wondered what new scheme the manager had in mind.

"It’s like this—the way you handled the scandal was terrific! Anyway, ’Detectives and Wilderness’ has moved its schedule forward. Filming starts tomorrow, so I wanted to finalize the timing with you." Jocelyn spoke in a cheerful tone but secretly cursed Mary for her stroke of luck, for managing to hook David Locke and even having him personally clear her name.

"Sorry, Miss Spencer. As you know, I just got discharged from the hospital, and my body hasn’t fully recovered yet. ’Detectives and Wilderness’ is a physically demanding show, so I’m afraid I won’t be able to join." Mary spoke politely but smirked inwardly—clearly, they were trying to capitalize on the buzz created by David Locke’s remark. Still, with yesterday’s scandal putting her career on edge and herself truly believing at one point that the man planned to divorce her, compromising on such shows would only make landing work harder in the future. Now she had other options and wasn’t about to be pushed around.

Three thousand per episode was laughable. How could Jocelyn Spencer even suggest it?

Although Mary felt her refusal was bordering on leaning too much on David Locke’s influence, it gave her immense satisfaction to express her grievances.

Jocelyn hadn’t expected Mary’s "diva" act. She was furious but remembered that she signed the agreement with the show. Each episode brought in two hundred thousand, totaling 1.2 million for six; with the company taking half and Mary getting crumbs, Jocelyn would pocket five hundred and eighty thousand—a deal she certainly wouldn’t let pass. Furthermore, with David Locke boosting Mary’s popularity, the producers hinted they might even renegotiate for higher pay.

So, despite her growing frustration, Jocelyn softened her tone, "Mary, I know you just got out of the hospital—but this is work, and the show isn’t treating you unfairly. They’re willing to add another three thousand per episode just to make this work."

"I’m sorry, Miss Spencer. My body isn’t up to it." Mary had never heard Jocelyn so gentle with her—clearly aware there was an ulterior motive.

"Come on, Mary—the physical issues can be overcome. Any demands you have, just say the word." Jocelyn barely held back her anger, swallowing hard before speaking.

Mary wasn’t oblivious. Considering her current financial situation, she thought about negotiating. "Overcoming this, huh? Hmm, I guess it’s possible. But let’s remember ’Detectives and the Secret Room’ offered two hundred thousand per episode. I wouldn’t be greedy—one hundred thousand per episode would do for ’Detectives and Wilderness.’"

"One hundred thousand?" Jocelyn couldn’t believe her ears.

"Yes." Mary confirmed decisively.

Jocelyn moved the phone aside to mutter curses. "Bitch!"

Charlotte Leigh, who happened to be in Jocelyn’s office, guessed the ongoing matter involved Mary and the ’Detectives and Wilderness’ program. Seeing Jocelyn so livid, Charlotte quietly cursed Mary but kept her face warm. "What’s wrong, Jocelyn?"

"What’s wrong? That bitch is using David Locke’s statement to ask for a hundred grand! Per episode!" Jocelyn seethed.

Charlotte knew about Jocelyn’s shady practice of pocketing more than her fair share, treating it essentially as a bribe to keep things cordial. Though Charlotte found six hundred thousand for six episodes reasonable given Mary’s current heat, she played along. "Heh, does she even look at herself in the mirror? A hundred grand per episode? Who does she think she is?"

Jocelyn inhaled deeply, trying to stay composed. "She’s demanding one hundred thousand per episode!"

"What? She’s out of her mind!" Charlotte was genuinely shocked this time. Six hundred thousand for six episodes was big money—even for her, who was Starlight’s leading lady. Just recently, she did ’Detectives and the Secret Room’ for fifty thousand per episode as a favor. How did Mary—an irrelevant actress who survives off her husband’s name—think she could ask such numbers?

Feeling cornered, Jocelyn tried a more diplomatic approach, "Mary, isn’t one hundred thousand a bit too much? ’Detectives and Wilderness’ is just a small production."

"I’m sorry, Miss Spencer, but my body is really not well." Mary replied with feigned regret, knowing full well the program was anything but small. It was the vanity project of wealthy investors with a rumored one-hundred-million production fund—a setup she’d researched thoroughly, knowing it was a physical endurance show notorious for pushing boundaries. For her, no amount of money was worth it unless the compensation matched the risk.

"You...!" Jocelyn was about to explode.

*Beep Beep*

Jocelyn had barely restrained herself from swearing when Mary hung up first.

Listening to the dial tone, Jocelyn nearly lost it. At that moment, ’Detectives and Wilderness’ producer Johnson called again. Covering up her exasperation, Jocelyn apologized profusely—only to hear him insist that Mary be part of the show.

Jocelyn frowned deeply, "Producer Johnson, it’s not that I don’t want Mary involved. It’s just that she’s on her high horse right now, demanding a pay raise. I’m really sorry..."

"Oh? She thinks the price is too low? Just give her another hundred grand." The voice on the other end was straightforward.

Jocelyn’s eyes nearly popped out. "Wouldn’t that be overkill? But alright. I’ll call Mary and tell her the total fee for the show increased by a hundred thousand..."

"One hundred thousand per episode." Johnson clarified.

"What...?" Stuck in the industry for years, Jocelyn was floored. Adding one hundred thousand per episode meant six hundred thousand extra—a staggering increase. Even Mary Scott, who barely stayed relevant thanks to her marriage, was unlikely to warrant such extravagance.

But Jocelyn recalled the show was funded by outsiders—apparently a newly rich group looking for thrills—evidently clueless about the entertainment world. They must’ve mistaken Mary’s recent surge in popularity for stardom. Wrapping her head around it, Jocelyn softened her response, "Producer Johnson, no problem at all. I’ll make sure Mary joins the program."

Ending the call, Jocelyn gripped the phone, still stunned. Next to her, Charlotte’s jealousy boiled. She regretted signing onto ’Detectives and the Secret Room,’ wishing she had taken ’Detectives and Wilderness’ instead. At this pay rate, it rivaled a top-tier celebrity deal!

"Miss Spencer, I’ve still got time before filming for ’Secret Room’ starts... maybe I could—" Charlotte began.

"They specified Mary Scott. This time, I can’t help you. Listen, Charlotte—to keep your image clean, avoid amateur productions like ’Detectives and Wilderness.’ Despite the money, the sponsors are a bunch of clueless newbies. They might be loaded, but they could damage your reputation. Stick to programs like ’Detectives and the Secret Room,’ where you’ll network with top-tier names. Once you’ve connected with A-list and even S-tier figures, your future earnings will far surpass theirs!" Jocelyn stressed.

The reminder sobered Charlotte. Thinking back to her upcoming stint on ’Secret Room’—which included Best Actor Michael Piers and high-profile streamer Brian Joule—she realized money wasn’t everything. Landing a leading A-list status was priceless—six hundred thousand or even millions paled in comparison.

Jocelyn, satisfied Charlotte had come around, then called Mary back. "About what you said earlier—I accept."

Mary Scott was busy sorting through the holiday gift boxes sent by David Locke. She assumed Jocelyn had called back in anger, but was struck dumb when the woman actually agreed. "Miss Spencer, you’re sure?"

"Absolutely. Send me your location, and I’ll have someone bring the contract over for you to sign. Filming begins tomorrow morning in Earlbind, so prepare yourself." Without waiting for objections, Jocelyn hung up immediately.

Clutching the phone, Mary still couldn’t believe it. Jocelyn actually agreed? "Ha!"

Six hundred thousand for six episodes? What was Jocelyn thinking—was her figure too low?

Going from eighteen thousand to six hundred thousand felt surreal. Even if danger lurked ahead, it was impossible to turn down such earnings!

After all, what other job could net six hundred thousand this easily?

"Sis, what’s up?" Alfred emerged from the kitchen, having just packed some vegetables into the fridge, and noticed Mary staring off. Concerned, he asked.

"Little brother, we’re about to hit the jackpot!" Mary finally found her voice. After noisily explaining the situation, she apologized. "I’m afraid I won’t be able to spend New Year’s with you."

The show was in Earlbind and might take days to film—there was no guarantee Mary could make it back in time for New Year’s Eve.

Alfred froze at the mention of six hundred thousand. "Sis, are you sure? Don’t get ahead of yourself. Programs like ’Detectives and Wilderness’ sound dangerous—maybe you should think it over?"

Money aside, Alfred was more concerned about Mary’s well-being.

"Relax, there’ll be a signed contract. Besides, you think your brother-in-law is a pushover?" Mary patted Alfred’s shoulder, signaling him to drop his worries.

Knowing his sister’s settled personality, Alfred relented with a nod.

Meanwhile, back at Jocelyn’s office, Charlotte, though unable to interfere directly, requested the guest list for ’Detectives and Wilderness’ from Jocelyn.