Chapter 229 Jade piec
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Chapter 229 Jade piece
“Does this mean Renee’s fashion designs might be copied, too?”
“Wondering what Damian thinks about this… He chose to sing that song for its composer, but now it looks like the composer’s a fraud. Poot guy!”
“Why hasn’t Damian made any statement yet?”
“Rumors are flying that Renee has a sugar daddy. Surely it’s not Damian, right?”
Renee knitted her brows and responded to the director, insisting she hadn’t copied anyone’s work and promised to clear up the misunderstanding in the live broadcast tomorrow.
This move would surely attract more attention and viewers to the show, something the team welcomed with
open arms.
“What seems to be the problem?” Marcelo picked up on Renee’s troubled expression.
“Did you manage to fold the clothes right?” Renee shot him a sharp look.
Had it not been for his careless actions, she wouldn’t be in this mess!
Marcelo was at a loss for words.
“Alright, I’ll take care of the folding!”
Marcelo realized he had never actually folded clothes before!
Renee got hold of Damian’s contact information and gave him a ring.
“Hello?”
Damian’s voice was the epitome of calm.
“Mr. Moore, with everything that’s going on, haven’t you been bombarded by the media?”
“I’ve turned off my work phone.” Damian couldn’t hide his smugness.
Renee was at a loss for words. “And you’re not even curious about what’s happening with me? Don’t you worry I might get you into trouble?”
Feeling a twinge of guilt, Damian stole a look at his tablet, flooded with comments guessing about his ties with
Renee
He couldn’t admit to Renee that he was secretly flattered by the rumors.
He was certain Renee wasn’t guilty of plagiarism.
Yet, he inquired, “So, what’s going on?”
“I didn’t copy anyone’s work. I happen to attend a live stream tomorrow, so I can clear the air by this chance. I’m sorry for replying to the messages so late. Could you say sorry to Gerardo for me?”
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She had overlooked the fact she had shared that song on her B account.
Initially, she hadn’t charged Gerardo for the song, not thinking about copyright issues.
Renee considered setting the record straight on T*****r right away, but knew written explanations could never be as effective as speaking directly.
She didn’t see the point in engaging with people who have made up their minds.
Marcelo, having listened in without her noticing, approached and reached for the phone after hearing her mention “Mr. Moore“.
Renee handed over the phone, though she was quite puzzled.
Damian’s attempt to offer comfort sounded through the speaker. “Don’t worry about it! Renee, if you’re okay then…”
“Then what?” Marcelo looked over at Renee on the bed and mentioned, “She’s fine, just getting ready to sleep.”
“Marcelo!”
Damian, caught off guard, quickly turned his tablet over.
It took him a moment to remember Marcelo couldn’t see his embarrassed gesture, for this was not a video call.
He felt silly for reacting like he had something to hide.
“Anything else you need to say?” It was clear Marcelo wanted him to wrap up the call.
“No, no! Take care, Marcelo!”
With that, Damian ended the call and wasted no time in squashing the rumors about him and Renee. He shook his head at his previous overreaction.
After the call, Marcelo passed the phone back to Renee and asked, “What’s going on?”
“I shared the song I wrote for your mom with Gerardo, and now there’s talk that I copied it. But it’s nothing big. I’ve got it under control.”
Marcelo quickly pulled up T*****r on his phone.
Hearing something of interest and looking at Renee significantly, he asked, “B?”
Renee didn’t want to admit that it was her account and quickly found an excuse. “Oh, that’s a friend of mine!”
Marcelo let out a chuckle, looking down at her with a relaxed expression.
“So, you’re going to explain it like that to everyone tomorrow?” he asked.
Renee awkwardly touched her nose, realizing her attempt to deceive Marcelo was futile.
“I was just sharing some songs for fun on that account. I shared that song to see how people would react, especially to get some feedback to make improvements,” she explained.
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“So, were you trying to keep something from me by lying?” He probed.
“No, you’re reading too much into it,” Renee replied, a bit flustered. She then snuggled into the blankets, leaving only her eyes peering out. “I’m off to bed now. Good night!”
The account was actually linked to the Venus Private Foundation, and she preferred Marcelo not to delve into this topic.
Marcelo respected her wish for privacy, giving her a kiss goodnight without pressing further.
Once Renee was asleep, He went to his study to look up her T*****r account.
He discovered that “B” had posted about a dozen songs over three years, all of which were quite popular, attracting attention from leading record labels.
Other than sharing songs, the account showed no other signs of activity, almost as if it were automated.
Marcelo, who wasn’t much of a music buff, nonetheless listened to each song repeatedly.
All the songs were Renee’s work, his wife’s own compositions, filling him with an indescribable sense of pride.
Yet, he also felt a twinge of annoyance.
“She composed a song for Jessica but not for me!” he grumbled, somewhat irked.
Marcelo began to suspect Renee was deliberately distancing herself from the identity “B”
What did it stand for?
Was it a second name of her bar?
It was not just a bar’s name, but also a mysterious foundation’s name!
Even so, Marcelo decided to let the secret be, finding her secretive behavior somewhat entertaining to watch.
The “Workplace Diary” program was set to start at nine in the morning.
Renee woke up an hour early, got ready, and put on some light makeup.
She was sipping her coffee when there was a knock at the door.
Opening it, she found herself facing a camera.
Behind the camera, a group of about a dozen crew members and additional cameras awaited, each person looking eager and professional.
“Good morning, everyone, Come on in,” she greeted them warmly. This was Renee’s debut live broadcast, yet she was impressively composed.
The host hesitated at the entrance, eyeing the luxurious carpet, and asked in a low voice, “Do we need to change into slippers, or should we wear shoe covers?”
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“No, don’t worry about it. Please, come in,” Renee reassured with a smile, puzzled by the crew’s unusual
courtesy.
The crew looked visibly unsure, as if they felt out of place.
When Renee had provided her address to the team, they initially thought there was a mistake. Only after being escorted in by the guards did they realize the extent of the luxury that awaited them. They were astounded.
While they were accustomed to the lifestyles of the wealthy, Renee’s home was beyond anything they’d seen before.
They hesitated to film until reaching the door, careful not to showcase the grandeur of the nine–meter–high atrium and risk criticism for ostentation from the viewers.
“Do you think a lot of people are watching us live right now?”
Renee noticed the host glancing at his phone, monitoring the live stream’s audience count.
“More than five million viewers…”
They had never attracted such a massive online crowd before.
It was all thanks to the individual standing before them.
Renee gave a nod, logged into the live streaming platform with an extra phone, and browsed through the
comments.
“Has the production team lost their minds? Continuing with this imitation?”
“Workplace‘ claims to feature top–notch professionals, and this is what we get?”
“Renee, get lost!”
Despite the flood of harsh comments, the viewer count continued to soar.
The host offered an uneasy smile.
“Can I share something personal before we continue?” Renee addressed the host, hinting at the copyright controversy surrounding “The Joy of Heart.”
“Sure, go ahead.”
Renee signaled the cameraman to focus closely, and positioned herself in front of the camera. She then opened T *****r and logged in.
She tweeted, “No plagiarism. After today, I’ll be stepping away from this account. Thanks to everyone who appreciated the work.”
“Am I seeing things? Is this… Is this really B’s account?”
“Could Renee have made a similar ID overnight?”
“What’s going on here?” Many viewers were shocked by R’s post.
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