The makeup artist and staff had been called out of the makeup tent the moment Sharon Thorne walked in.
Now, only three people were in the makeup tent.
Gabriel Sinclair's expression was as black as ink.
In the past, he wouldn't have been afraid of a stunt like this from Sharon Thorne.
But things were different now. Out here, with no electricity or internet, a single candid photo could be spun by a horde of tabloid accounts into a million-word epic about a messy love affair.
Despite his grim expression, he was panicking on the inside, completely at a loss.
Sharon Thorne had probably figured this out. A hint of madness crept onto her face, and her voice dropped. "Gabriel Sinclair, you forced my hand!"
While Chloe Sinclair was still discussing the meaning of their exchange with Eight, Sharon Thorne suddenly rushed forward and threw her arms around Gabriel Sinclair.
