4

In the evening, I posted the complete video online and asked Vincent to use 100 thousand dollars to make the video quickly appear in the public.

Since I posted it at a time when netizens were most active, many journalists did not want to miss the opportunity to take advantage of it to make money and forwarded it one after another.

When Shirley's team and the program crew were ready to explain, it was too late.

A large number of comments emerged under the video.

[It changed! It turns out that Shirley is like this in private! I don't like her anymore.]

[The production team is so shameless, breaking into private homes and being so arrogant!]

[If I were the owner of such a beautiful yard, I would be angry too.]

[I support the young lady. This production team and Shirley are really shameless.]

[The girl is so cool. I love it!]

[There was no sign prohibiting entry to the yard, so the team and Shirley must have entered it because they didn't know it was a private residence.]

[Besides, they just want to use the space to shoot. The owner is so stingy. Shirley and the program team have promoted her this time, and she can make money from tickets in the future. In my opinion, this village girl should give Shirley and the program team publicity fees. ]

[Yes. Shirley gave her five hundred dollars. It's enough to buy her flowers. The woman must think it's too little.]

I couldn't help but sneer when reading the comments. These fans were as shameless as Shirley.

5

At this time, shouting was heard outside the yard.

"Bitch, come out now."

"Come out! How dare you plot against me and post the video to the Internet!"

I walked out of the door and saw three people standing there. The one in the middle was Shirley, the other was the assistant who threw money to me on her behalf today, and the other was a man I had never seen before who should have been her agent.

Shirley kicked the gate and continued to yell when she saw me. "You bitch!"

"Ms. Hart, this is under surveillance. Do you want me to post this for your fans to see?"

"You..." Shirley glared at me and no longer dared to act rashly.

"Miss, it is Shirley who is impulsive today. Could you please let us in so we can talk in detail?" said the man who looked like an agent.

"I don't want you in the house. We just talk here."

"We want to negotiate compensation and the removal of the video."

The agent handed me a contract through the gate. "Take a look first."

I looked through the contract handed to me by the agent. The contract stated that their team would compensate me 100 thousand dollars. All I had to do was delete the video and explain that I was not the owner of this courtyard, but just a friend of the owner who helped look after it.

The program crew and the host family had already made a deal, and I stopped them because I was not aware of it.

"Miss, this money is your compensation. If you are not satisfied, we can also provide you with a job. What do you think?" The agent handed me the money in cash.

"I can delete the video, but I won't explain. Besides, Ms. Hart should apologize to me." I shook the money in my hand.

"Why do you want me to apologize?" Shirley shouted, unconvinced.

"It seems that Ms. Hart is not convinced. There is no need to sign the contract. You can do whatever you want." I threw the money back at Shirley. The money fell. And I could still see the anger on her face through the gaps.

"Shirley, apologize!" The agent ordered in a stern tone.

"No. I don't accept your apology. That's all." I stopped Shirley before she could speak.

"Don't be so shameless! I have a supporter. My boyfriend is the inheritor of the Weaver Group!"

"Marcus?" I asked uncertainly.

Shirley thought I was scared, and her tone was arrogant. "Yes, now you are scared? Then, apologize and delete the video. Otherwise, I will make you regret it!"

"I'm not worried. Maybe you'll be the one who regrets it later."

I turned around and went back into the house, neglecting Shirley's insults.

Marcus' girlfriend?

She couldn't guess who I was.

She probably didn't realize Marcus Weaver was...