Chapter 99: Don’t Bring Trouble Upon Yourself

As expected, no one present could refute the presence of this domineering CEO-like figure. William Foster is always the one most skilled at eloquent persuasion. Whether at the business negotiation table or in the private domain, whenever faced with tricky issues, he’s always able to come up with a bunch of convincing yet unfounded reasons. Although they are heavily mixed with partial words, it has to be said, this way of expression is indeed highly infectious, making people almost forget that its essence is nothing more than cleverly packaged sophistry. But at the end of the day, he is someone who works for money, so naturally, he must follow William Foster’s command. After a few silent grumbles in her heart, Sam Clarke chose to resign herself to fate. After all, fundamentally, whether it’s her source of income or her current identity positioning, she is always a worker who survives by executing the client’s will. Since she’s already taken on this commission, she can only follow the employer’s instructions and complete the work. "Looks like it’s destined to sacrifice some professional ethics today." She muttered to herself self-deprecatingly. Just, don’t learn this behavior, kids. Sam Clarke couldn’t help but recall the children who had experienced similar scenes, some of whom suffered serious consequences from imitating such inappropriate means. She secretly vowed never to let her kids get involved in such things. "I hope in the future, when educating my own children, I can remind them of the importance of correctly discerning right from wrong." Thinking of this, she sighed once again, determined to quickly finish this task to avoid leaving psychological shadows. Twenty minutes later, William Foster had the script for the male and female leads’ opposing scenes in hand. In just a short time, Sam Clarke hastily ran back and said, "Mr. William Foster, the materials are ready, please check them." She solemnly handed a thick stack of printed papers to William Foster, her face full of nervousness waiting for further instructions from him. William Foster leisurely took the documents and placed them on the table, showing no sign of any impatience or anxiety during the waiting period earlier. Before he started looking, he glanced at Sam Clarke. Just before turning to the first page, William Foster unexpectedly cast a meaningful glance at Sam Clarke. Although the gaze did not linger long, it seemed like a sharp blade piercing the heart, chilling. The invisible pressure spread in the air, making the previously relaxed nerves tense again. Sam Clarke inexplicably had a sinking feeling, her eyelids twitched uncontrollably, always feeling that things were not quite right. At that moment, Sam Clarke suddenly felt a chill down her spine, even feeling the increasingly rapid heartbeat in her chest. As her peripheral vision caught the gaze glancing over, a wave of foreboding surged in her heart. She tried hard to appear calm, standing in place maintaining a polite distance observing, but her hands involuntarily clasped tightly to mitigate that sudden foreboding. For some reason, images of facing an impending storm kept surfacing in her mind, as if some unspeakable disaster was gradually approaching... William Foster: "From tomorrow, switch to wearing contact lenses." Following this, as everyone held their breath, William Foster finally broke the silence and announced a new order. "From tomorrow onward, your appearance needs some adjustment. Switching to wearing contact lenses would be better." He articulated each word slowly while his gaze still locked on Sam Clarke’s reaction, "This way would probably better meet the actual shooting needs." Sam Clarke’s mouth twitched slightly: "Mr. William Foster, I’ve been wearing framed glasses every day, why make me wear contacts?" Hearing this suggestion, Sam Clarke was stunned, frozen in place for a long time, her facial muscles stiff, causing her right cheek to twitch slightly. "Please..." She protested with a wry smile, "Did you forget that I habitually wear framed glasses every day? Such a sudden change in wear mode is simply too demanding, isn’t it? Besides, for an ordinary staff member, frequently replacing lenses is a bit beyond the capacity! May I ask what consideration led to such a decision?" Furthermore, what adult man wears contacts all day? Moreover, the actual situation is not limited to such a simple aesthetic aspect. In reality, adult men often don’t rely on contacts long-term to correct vision defects, especially for those working behind the scenes where everyday wear convenience is crucial. Such a sudden change in lifestyle not only violates conventional practice but also may trigger numerous side effects, posing potential threats to both mental and physical health! Isn’t this deliberately making things difficult? William Foster lightly turned the script in his hands, the thin pages making a soft rustling sound as they passed through his fingertips. He glanced down and said in a tone so calm it was almost cold: "Your style clashes with mine, appearing redundant. Besides, I look better wearing them, more than a little bit, don’t put yourself to shame." His voice had no rise or fall, yet it carried an undeniable arrogance and sense of superiority. The slightly upturned corners of his mouth seemed to declare his overwhelming victory, while the hint of disdain in his eyes seemed to see through the other’s futile efforts. Hearing these words, Sam Clarke’s lip corner jerked suddenly, the helplessness and anger in his heart intertwining into a blaze, but he ultimately held back his emotions. He raised his head, staring at William Foster’s annoying yet flawless face, and stiffly said: "Understood, Mr. William Foster..." After the words fell, he clenched his fist tightly, his nails digging deep into his palm, controlling his urge to burst on the spot. Following that, he resisted the urge to roll his eyes, feigning calmness as he turned around, leaving the room expressionlessly with large strides. Every step on the ground resonated with thick grievance, even tinging the air with some oppression. Just as he walked out the door, he met Arthur Davis in the hallway. Arthur Davis was hurrying over with a stack of documents, looking up to see Sam Clarke’s livid expression, was instantly stunned. Then, she hurriedly set down what she was holding and asked with concern, "Clarke, you don’t look well, did Mr. William Foster nitpick on you again?" Her voice was soft, with a hint of caution, afraid of touching Sam Clarke’s sensitive spot. However, Sam Clarke just snorted coldly, turning his gaze to the side, and asked mockingly, "Has the Young Madam ever praised Mr. William Foster for looking good with glasses?" The question made Arthur Davis pause for a moment, recalling that there had indeed been similar scenes before. So, she honestly nodded and replied, "Yes, praised him." Upon hearing this, Sam Clarke was utterly despaired. His shoulders slumped as if all his strength had suddenly drained away. He sighed, his tone as low as a struggling dying man: "I knew it. If it continues like this, I’ll go mad sooner or later. The day I can’t take it anymore, I’ll just go to labor arbitration to report Mr. William Foster for workplace bullying, malicious targeting."