After divorce, Ex-wife Revealed Identities

Chapter 182

After performing the dance, Rosie confidently walked off the stage and went straight backstage.

"Miss Andrews, have you reached Mollie?" After scanning around and finding that Mollie was not there,

she pretended to look concerned and came to Sylvia.

"Mollie is so unreliable. Now I regretted choosing her to play the modern drama." Sylvia took off her

headset, and anxiously glanced at Rosie, her voice was tinged with annoyance.

"I don't know what's going on with her. She should have told me earlier if she doesn't want to act. Why

did she choose to stand everyone up now?"

Sylvia got annoyed at the mention of her; a barrage of disgruntlement at Mollie just came out.

"Miss Andrews, don't get too angry. I could go to her residence to ask her back," Rosie gazed at Sylvia

and said, gloating.

"There is no need to bother you. It's my fault to not know what Mollie is up to." Sylvia shook her head.

"One of the mentors has gone to her; if she really can't come, we have to find someone else to fill in."

Rosie repressed her happiness secretly.

Sylvia got down to her own business while Rosie began to send a Facebook message to Winter,

"Sylvia thinks Mollie quitted herself; it seems that the Gibson family is secretly looking for Mollie and

others don't know about it."

"Got it. Be careful." Winter quickly replied to her.

Winter then reported Sylvia's situation to Clark in the president's office of the Wilson Group.

Clark slightly squinted his eyes, his feminine face betraying no emotions.

"If the Gibson family is looking for her secretly, why haven't those craps contacted you again for the

money?"

"I paid enough cash in one go, and I guess they are afraid of being found by the police, so all their cell

phones are not in service." Winter said cautiously, "I could not contact them now either." Content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

"What craps!" Clark said coldly.

"Find them! Find those craps and get rid of them forever!"

"Yes!" Winter's heart trembled and she hurriedly left.

She knew well about what Clark meant.

She took a deep breath and began to order others to search for the kidnappers.

But they did not know that Mollie had returned to Gibson Residence safely.

Everything was at the command of Sylvia.

Every show was extremely good as those extras made progress by leaps and bounds after more than

a month of training.

Several dance shows were particularly wonderful.

The beauty and flexibility of folk dance, the energy, and vibrancy of modern dance, as well as the

elegance and glamour of ballroom dance were all rendered flawlessly.

The national standard dance was also elegant and charming.

The other singing and talk shows also had their own merits.

In particular, many viewers were now aware that the scripts of the talk shows were written by Master

Keturah.

Who was Master Keturah? She was one heck of a big shot!

She painted with her left hand, played the piano with her right hand, and was even a best-selling

author.

Since Master Keturah wrote a novel three years ago, her fans had been longing for her new works but

there were none.

At that time that novel caused quite a sensation, remaining the best seller for over a year.

Even now, the sales were still very impressive, and the publisher kept printing more and more.

Master Keturah personally wrote the scripts for the modern drama and the talk show!

It was top-notch.

But it was the truth that with good scripts, the actors acted properly. Their action and expression were

remarkably vivid.

The combination of actors and scripts worked like a charm.

Franklin sat down at the round table, not caring at all about the show. He just wanted to see her

woman.

He waited patiently, but Sylvia did not appear.

"When is Sylvia's turn?" He was a little annoyed.

"Mr. Maskelyne, Miss Andrews is the general director and she will not play a role in the show." Jasper

swallowed and hurried to look at the program, examining it two or three times before answering.

Franklin's handsome face suddenly froze.

Several other bigwigs at the same table as him instantly got a chill down their spine. 'What's wrong with

Mr. Maskelyne?'

The tensions suddenly grew.

And at this time backstage, Jenna held the piano and stood there with a pale face, her big beautiful

eyes filled with fear.

Even the perfect makeup couldn't hide her fear at the moment.

Her hands were trembling.

The next one that was going to perform was her.

She didn't think she could do it! There were so many people on the stage.

She was so scared and uncomfortable.

She felt like she could barely breathe.

"Jenna, you can do it; you can definitely break down the walls." Aside, Aldo constantly cheered her up,

and his big palm took her small hand.

"I believe in you. You've grown up, and you're not afraid of that."

"Jenna, you can perform perfectly."

"Just play the piano as if you are practicing."

"Don't look at viewers down there; just keep your head down and focus on the performance."

But it didn't work at all.

"Aldo, I'm afraid." Jenna cried. The more he said, the more uncomfortable she was. Her mind went

blank, her pitiful eyes fixed on him.

Just then, Sylvia walked over.

Looking at Jenna, she raised her eyebrows.

"There's no reason to be afraid."

"Miss Andrews!" Jenna suddenly let go of Aldo's hand and grabbed the hem of Sylvia's clothes instead.

It was as if Sylvia was her lifesaver at this time.

"Jenna, you've practiced hard for a long time for this gala, so you cannot flinch at this crucial point, you

understand?" Sylvia gently held Jenna's cold hand, "Your uncle cares about you, and he really wants to

see you break down the walls you keep up and live a pleasant life."

"Jenna, I believe in you."

"No, no." Jenna shook her head desperately.

She didn't know what to do; she was so stiff that she couldn't even play a note.

How could she get on stage to perform like this?

Her hands began to go numb.

Jenna's state made Aldo heartbroken and regretful. He knew Jenna couldn't face up to too many

people.

She was so scared because he insisted that she should perform at the gala.

She made a lot of effort to change a lot and communicate with people briefly.

He was afraid that all her efforts would go down the drain and she would withdraw into herself more.