I Want a Divorce Every Day, But the Superstar Says No-Chapter 89: Protecting Her Own

Simon Storm is Quiana Sutton’s uncle and also the Pope of the Church of Scavilla City. According to investigations, the Storm family had a daughter named Eleanor Storm, who married into one of the four global families, the Sutton Estate.

He remembered that painting "Starry," with Eleanor Storm’s name signed at the bottom. When Quiana Sutton saw this painting, her whole demeanor softened.

If Eleanor Storm really was Quiana Sutton’s mother, how could her information indicate she was raised in an orphanage?

And shouldn’t Eleanor Storm’s daughter be named Charlotte Sutton?

Durrell Landon glanced at the two people conversing nearby; it was obvious they knew the reason.

For a moment, he had the illusion that between him and Quiana Sutton lay mountains, seas, and all his unknowns.

This unknown made him anxious because he wandered outside her world, not even knowing how to get close.

He shifted his gaze to Quiana Sutton, who was not far away.

Gazing at her deeply, not only to imprint her in his eyes but seemingly to brand her into his soul.

Quiana Sutton had no role to play next; she found a chair and sat down lazily and casually.

She couldn’t be bothered to look at the three of them.

In this public setting, these three weren’t foolish enough to start a real fight.

Today, Quiana Sutton was the center of attention, with an uncle whose beauty was rare even in the entertainment circle and a fan who was a talented painter. Now seeing even Durrell Landon staring at her non-stop, some people could no longer hold back.

Whispering nearby, "Do you think Mr. Storm is really Quiana Sutton’s uncle? They don’t even look alike."

One person said coolly, "It used to be fashionable to have a godfather; maybe now it’s fashionable to have a goduncle?"

Another person’s sardonic remark was even harsher: "Maybe she has some unclear relationship with this fan too? She seems pure on the surface, but who knows how wild she is behind the scenes..."

...

The voices of the three weren’t very loud, but Quiana Sutton sat not too far from them, or perhaps they were saying it on purpose for her to hear.

Grace Sutton was almost bursting with anger, wanting to rush over and slap them, but seeing Quiana Sutton squinting her eyes, completely unconcerned, even looking about to fall asleep.

Grace Sutton didn’t know what to say, finally just sighing, "Cece, are you really not angry?"

Quiana Sutton slowly opened her eyes, with little emotion in them, bathed in sunlight, looking somewhat detached from the world.

"Calm, jealousy can make you ugly."

If she paid attention to everyone’s comments, she would live too exhausting a life.

Moreover, she was already living a very tiring life and didn’t have the mood to torment herself over those irrelevant people’s words.

Grace Sutton couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

She didn’t expect Cece to be so sharp-tongued either; wasn’t that a veiled insult calling those three ugly?

Quiana Sutton’s voice had a soft tone, with almost no aggressiveness, as if it was just a normal statement, but to those three, it felt like a needle prick—not bleeding, but slightly painful.

Because Quiana Sutton had touched on the most fatal issue.

They indeed weren’t pretty enough, had no patrons supporting them, and even their acting couldn’t overshadow everyone else.

It was hard enough to play a minor role in Director Parker’s movie.

Suddenly, they were all on edge, rushing in front of Quiana Sutton, shouting, "Who are you calling ugly?"

Quiana Sutton slightly turned, fiddling with her nails, speaking carelessly, "Whoever responds, I guess."

"You..."

Grace Sutton held back a chuckle. Don’t be fooled by Quiana Sutton’s usual quiet demeanor; if she really wanted to anger someone, she could definitely be No.1 at it.

She’s usually quiet because she’s too lazy to engage.

The commotion around Quiana Sutton caught Simon Storm’s attention, who immediately walked over with a frown:

"Cece, what’s going on?"

Simon Storm’s aura was so calm that it often made people mistakenly think he had a gentle temper. But now, as he narrowed his eyes in anger, an immense pressure surrounded him silently.

The woman who had come up to provoke was already at a loss: "I...I..."

She stuttered but couldn’t say anything.

Grace Sutton was fiercely protective. Quiana Sutton didn’t care about these people, but she couldn’t just sit by idly.

"Mr. Storm, they suspected you weren’t Cece’s real uncle and spoke disrespectfully of her."

"Is that so?"

Simon Storm narrowed his eyes, an endless danger in his gaze, even the tone carried a chill:

"Do I need a legal certificate to prove if I’m her uncle?"

Perhaps intimidated by Simon Storm’s pressure, or maybe for other considerations, the provocateur repeatedly apologized, "No, no, no need, Miss Sutton, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have doubted you."

Simon Storm didn’t even spare them a glance.

If they were in Scavilla City, these three women would already be done for.

Simon Storm looked down at Quiana Sutton, "Cece, do you often encounter such situations?"

Quiana Sutton tilted her head, thinking seriously. Since her debut, she had received a fair share of genuine and false criticism, but she never cared about it.

She glanced up at Simon Storm, speaking somewhat helplessly, "Uncle, don’t look at me as if I’m a fragile glass vase; I’m not that fragile. Just minor friction; they’re not even my match."

Simon Storm wasn’t reassured, his eyes still filled with thick, ink-like worry.

The emergence of a secondary personality was a product of long-term pressure. Even knowing those people couldn’t affect her, he still couldn’t remain calm.

He just looked at her, her figure imprinted in his deep pupils, and no one knew what he was thinking.

When Simon Storm talked to Quiana Sutton, it wasn’t particularly close, nor did he show inappropriate behavior. Maybe it was a woman’s intuition, but Grace Sutton always felt Simon Storm’s gaze on Quiana Sutton was peculiar—not like looking at relative, nor like looking at a lover, simply too complex for her to discern.

The scene became somewhat awkward with silence.

Just then, filming wrapped up, and William Parker came over.

Finished with shooting, he transformed back into the amiable little angel, smiling as he approached: "Today was the first day of shooting, so we decided to wrap early. Mr. Storm, would you like to join us for dinner at the hotel?"

Simon Storm pondered for a moment, "Sure."

William Parker clapped his hands, "Alright, everyone, wrap it up. I’ll treat everyone tonight, so feel free to enjoy."

The assistant director and others were quite surprised. To say it rather bluntly, William Parker was notoriously stingy; the fact he was willing to be generous today made them wonder whose favor they were under.

...