"So, is there anything else we need to discuss?"
The air grew quiet.
Anson was so cooperative that the once complicated situation had suddenly become clear, leaving the reporters at a loss for how to proceed.
But there was no way the press would give up so easily.
"Anson, how would you evaluate this whole situation involving Matt, Penélope, Winona, Tom, and Nicole?"
If there was no story, the reporters could always create one. A simple question like that could stir up a hornet's nest, potentially offending anyone involved.
Traps were everywhere.
Anson shrugged slightly and flashed a smile. "I hope I can become friends with them in the future. Any one of them—they're all out of my league."
His lips curled into a smile, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth.
The reporters were disheartened—
They had anticipated Anson would be difficult, but not this difficult.
With no other option, the reporters shifted to asking about Paris Fashion Week and Dior's runway show. The atmosphere became much more relaxed, with none of the hostility or tension that had been there before, now replaced by a light and easy mood.
Throughout the exchange, Anson remained very cooperative—patient, calm, and friendly. It wasn't until the questions were all answered that Anson, still perfectly composed, left the scene under the protection of airport security. There was no pushing, no chaos; Anson didn't even break a sweat, leaving the scene as dry and composed as he had arrived.
Security personnel: Never had a job this easy!
As they stood in the arrivals hall of LAX, the reporters felt a strange sense of emptiness. Had everything really gone that smoothly?
Meanwhile...
As soon as they got in the car, Eve and Edgar got busy. Anson had resolved most of the issue, setting the framework and the path forward, but they still needed to seize the moment to ensure everything stayed on track.
Their work continued non-stop until they reached their destination. The car had safely delivered Anson home, but Eve and Edgar were still making calls and sending emails, unable to rest.
Only Anson was left with nothing to do.
This didn't surprise Anson. After a simple farewell, he got out of the car by himself.
With a quick glance, Anson noticed unfamiliar vehicles parked across the street and unfamiliar figures lurking around the area—
Paparazzi.
This was a first.
Despite his work, Anson had never received the kind of attention that would bring paparazzi to his doorstep. But now, thanks to a trip to Fashion Week, he was getting that treatment for the first time.
Rustling.
The paparazzi noticed Anson and were surprised—no other vehicles, no other people, just a lone car arriving so casually.
Normally, if nothing substantial came out of the airport, the reporters would have followed Anson to his home to launch a second wave of questioning, hoping to catch him in an awkward moment. But now?
Because it was just one car, the paparazzi hadn't realized it might be Anson's, and they were caught off guard.
In a flurry of activity, the paparazzi quickly grabbed their cameras, ready to snap pictures, afraid Anson might dash into the house before they could surround him. But then...
"Hey, Kevin."
Anson didn't turn and run. Instead, he stood openly in the sunlight, smiling as if greeting an old friend.
Paparazzi: ???
Wait, does Anson have friends among the paparazzi?
Harry Percy was pretending to be dead.
What the—? What is Anson doing! He just greeted him? What now? Responding would be bad, but not responding would be worse. He was stuck. What was he supposed to do? Damn it!
This was unreal. Most celebrities hate paparazzi with a passion, getting furious at the sight of them. How could Anson be friends with one? And they'd only met once, just once!
How did Anson even remember him?
Harry wanted to disappear.
He could feel all eyes on him, everyone looking for an explanation, but no one knew what was going on—
Kevin? Which Kevin?
Harry did his best to hide, keeping his face behind his camera, snapping pictures to distract from the situation, but all he could think was:
Go. Just go!
But Anson wasn't letting Harry off the hook that easily.
"How long have you been waiting here?"
"You should check in with your colleagues at the airport, get an update. I don't think you should waste your time here; otherwise, you might fall behind."
Paparazzi: ???
Click, click, click... click... click...
It was rare, but the sound of cameras clicking started to slow down, the paparazzi calming down, looking at each other, unsure of what was happening.
"Kevin, don't fall behind now."
Anson waved again with a smile before finally turning to walk into his house.
Everyone was left bewildered.
It wasn't just the paparazzi—Eve and Edgar, sitting in the car, exchanged puzzled looks. Eve couldn't help but sigh.
"I thought I'd seen enough oddballs in my time, but clearly, I'm still too young."
Across the street, Harry tried to steady his racing heart, looking around innocently like the rest, searching for this "Kevin"—
Could Kevin be a mole among them?
Meanwhile, he quietly moved toward his car, his instincts telling him that Anson wasn't making things up. If Anson said something happened at the airport, then something must have happened. If Harry didn't want to miss out, he needed to move fast.
The air was tense, the scene like something out of "Mission: Impossible." Anson had tossed a stone into the water, creating ripples, and then walked away, leaving the paparazzi on high alert, ready for anything.
Edgar was ready to leave, but Eve, with a mischievous glint in her eye, instructed the driver to wait a bit longer.
"It's a rare sight. Even in Los Angeles, you don't see this every day."
Who would have thought it was possible to handle the paparazzi this way?
The tension held until Harry Percy was the first to get into his car, hit the gas, and speed away, breaking the delicate balance. Chaos erupted in front of Anson's house.
Some paparazzi exchanged glances, unsure of what to do. A few immediately drove off, some made calls from their driver's seats, and others boldly marched toward Anson's house, hoping to catch a glimpse of something through the garden.
It was pure pandemonium.
Even Edgar, wide-eyed, couldn't hide his shock and amazement.
Only then did Eve allow herself a satisfied smile, patting the back of the driver's seat. "Alright, let's go. The real drama will be unfolding where we can't see it—behind the scenes."
Eve was spot on—
Anson's composed response at the airport had completely changed the rules of the game. Looking back at how calmly and openly he and Winona had acted during Paris Fashion Week, their behavior now seemed even more significant, snuffing out any lingering doubts and suspicions.
If all the rumors about Anson and Winona were baseless fabrications, then… what was the real motive behind the initial source of these rumors?
Perhaps the truth was hidden right there.
With just a little digging, it was as if a hornet's nest had been stirred, setting off a frenzy.