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."

"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.