You Had Me, You Lost Me, You'll Never Find Me novel Chapter 102

The Golden Horizon Awards ceremony was a star-studded affair.

Sylvia's red carpet appearance was flawless, her stunning styling drawing massive attention.

She wore an ombre mermaid gown, cleverly tailored at the waist, with a gorgeous, cascading fringe along the hem.

Ever since her online rumors had been officially cleared, her commercial value had skyrocketed.

Borrowing this haute couture dress from a luxury brand had been surprisingly easy. Perhaps the brand had recognized her current trending status.

She walked the red carpet in her designer heels, then followed the staff to her designated seat.

Her seat was a bit further back. The surrounding area was mostly empty, save for a few roaming cameras set up specifically to capture audience reactions, especially the candid shock of those about to win an award.

But no cameras were pointed at Sylvia's row. She felt perfectly calm about it, knowing she was likely just here for the exposure. Attending was enough to keep her name in the headlines.

The other celebrities trickled in and found their seats.

That was when Sylvia noticed something off. The people settling in around her weren't actors; they looked like investors, directors, and producers. She even recognized one of the directors.

Glancing around, she saw that the majority of the stars were seated far closer to the front, quite a distance from where she was. Unease prickled at her. She flagged down a passing staff member. "Excuse me, is there a mistake with my seating arrangement?"

The staff member gave her a practiced, corporate smile. "No, no mistake at all. You are Ms. Sylvia Harlow, correct? Then you're in the right spot."

Sylvia had no choice but to stay put. Feeling increasingly restless, she looked down and texted Penelope Caldwell. Deciding to step out for a quick call, she stood up, only to crash directly into someone, stumbling backward.

The man wrapped an arm securely around her waist, steadying her. "Why are you running?"

Sylvia froze at the sound of his voice. She looked up and gasped. It was Ashton.

Director Giles was known for producing massive box office hits. The required investment for his projects was astronomical.

Even so, he had investors practically throwing money at him. She never expected him to act so obsequious toward Ashton.

Ashton leaned back against the plush sofa with lazy grace. No one else was sitting in their row. He draped his arm along the backrest right behind Sylvia. Though he wasn't technically touching her, it was a blatantly territorial posture, completely caging her in.

The others instantly caught on, tripping over themselves to offer praise. "With Ms. Harlow as the lead, it's guaranteed to be a blockbuster!"

"Anyone Young Master Wyatt favors is bound to be a superstar."

Everyone in the room knew the truth. If Ashton wanted to manufacture an A-list celebrity, his connections and resources could make it happen overnight.

Ashton remained utterly relaxed, letting out a soft chuckle. "It doesn't matter if it bombs. She's pregnant, after all. We shouldn't put too much pressure on her."