Gathering Wives with a System Chapter 450: Arlene

He spotted something additional too.

Not all faces appeared joyful.

Certain staff shot him glances filled with hidden resentment. A couple turned their heads away fast. Some muttered softly among themselves.

Isaac rolled his eyes.

These folks were likely Celia's devoted fans who'd joined the crew. In their eyes, he was the guy hogging their beloved idol all to himself.

"Isaac! You should’ve told us if you were coming," Arlene exclaimed, hurrying over to him.

"It was a spontaneous decision," he replied.

"Oh, alright. Then follow me."

Isaac nodded and trailed after her. As they navigated the hallway, crew members parted to let them pass. Some eyed him with interest, others with faint annoyance, yet no one voiced complaints aloud.

Arlene strode briskly ahead, evidently accustomed to handling disorder. She scanned several sheets on her clipboard while moving, then slipped it beneath her arm.

Arlene served as Celia's manager and personal aide. She managed timetables, team coordination, outfits, stage setups, and even deals. Essentially, she kept the entire operation running smoothly.

But Isaac held knowledge hidden from the rest.

She had spied for the ex-Governor once.

She relayed details on Celia's routines, patterns, and weak points. That intel was intended for the former Governor to manipulate Celia later on. Once Isaac and Vale exposed it, ending her seemed the straightforward choice.

Vale had proposed it initially.

The issue lay with Celia.

For Celia, Arlene was more than a manager—she was a friend from childhood, like a sister. Someone she trusted completely without doubt.

Celia was already emotionally rattled from discovering the Governor's truths and Vale's previous deeds. One more betrayal from a loved one could shatter her spirit.

Thus, Isaac and Vale chose to conceal the facts.

Vale imposed a curse upon Arlene, guaranteeing she couldn't hurt Celia ever again. The curse also restricted her subtly, stopping any info leaks or moves against them.

There existed yet another motive.

The Governor possessed leverage over Arlene, coercing her into espionage. It wasn't voluntary on her part. She had been ensnared, backed into a corner, and intimidated.

Her deeds weren't absolved, but the verdict shifted.

"Here. This is the room she is resting in right now," Arlene announced, halting before a door.

She swung it open.

Within, a hectic atmosphere unfolded. Various props cluttered the space. Some crew tweaked light markers. Others sorted garments. One verified sizes, another scanned the script rundown.

Celia positioned herself centrally, clad in a half-fitted costume as an assistant mended the sleeve.

"Isaac!" Celia's face lit up with a radiant grin upon spotting him.

He lifted his hand in a brief wave.

"Everyone, we will take a short break. Come with me," Arlene instructed the team.

A team member scowled. "But manager, we need to practice. The concert is almost upon us—"

"We are taking a short break. Come with me," Arlene repeated, her tone sharpening.

The crew member tsked softly yet held his tongue. Gradually, the group filed out. A few cast final looks at Isaac, faces showing varied emotions.

With the final person gone, Arlene shut the door.

Just Isaac and Celia stayed behind.

"They really don’t like me, huh?" Isaac remarked with a chuckle.

"Don’t mind them," Celia said breezily. "Come here instead and tell me what happened in the Trial."

She seized his hand, tugging him to the room's table.

Isaac dropped into the seat, and prior to any words from him, Celia settled onto his lap.

He arched an eyebrow. "Why are you sitting here?"

"Because this place belongs to me," she giggled, nestling back against him snugly.

Isaac grinned wryly, sliding his arm around her waist.

"So tell me about your Trial," she urged. "How did you all complete it so quickly?"

"You think we cleared the trial?" Isaac raised a brow.

"Of course."

Isaac shook his head and launched into the tale. Specific names and realms escaped him, but the sequence of events lingered. He recounted the bizarre setup, turbulent schemes, and surprising turns.

Celia heard him out silently initially.

Then her eyes grew wide.

"You met a Saint from Hell?"

"Yeah."

"And you... used that to manipulate the situation?"

"Pretty much."

As Isaac went on, Celia edged forward gradually, hooked deeper in. Midway through, bursts of laughter escaped her.

"So you basically scammed everyone?" she said, laughing.

"More or less." Isaac nodded steadily.

He pressed on with the account, her interjections punctuating throughout.

"That’s evil."

"That’s clever."

"You’re terrible."

"That’s hilarious."

Once he wrapped up his words, her eyes sparkled with delight.

She leaned back a bit, flashing a playful smile as she asked, "So what about Selene? How’s the progress between you two? And how did Alice react?"

"Well, Alice came to me first about Selene. She even urged me to propose to her. And yes, Selene said yes," Isaac replied.

"Yes!" Celia cheered excitedly.

"Is it really worth celebrati—"

"So where’s my reward?" she interrupted him.

"Huh?"

"My reward. I deserve something, don’t I? I’m the one who convinced Alice to accept Selene and your duo," she declared with a cheeky grin.

A ominous premonition struck Isaac suddenly. He recognized that look all too well. Something scheming brewed in her mind.

Before she could demand her intended prize, he swiftly interjected, "I actually have a gift for you."

From his spatial ring, he pulled out a cake box and set it down on the table.

He lifted the lid.

A gorgeously adorned cake sat inside. Its frosting gleamed smoothly, while the layers appeared fluffy. A gentle, inviting aroma wafted out.

Isaac anticipated her jumping with joy.

But Celia went rigid instead.

A forced smile plastered her face.

"D-Did you bake this yourself for me?"

"..."

"O-On second thought, I don’t need any reward after all."

"..."

Isaac gazed at her wordlessly.

Was it necessary for her to act like his cooking spelled utter catastrophe?

With a tongue click, he explained, "This isn’t my handiwork. I obtained it from the Trial. It hails from a kingdom renowned for its confections. It’s so exquisite that only monarchs from other realms receive it during grand events—"

"Thank you! I love you, Isaac!"

"..."

She snatched the knife right away and began cutting into the cake.

Her lightning-fast shift in demeanor left Isaac dumbfounded.

With care, she served a slice onto a plate and savored a mouthful. Bliss washed over her features at once.

"This is really good," she beamed.

"Your earlier reaction was over the top." Isaac tsked once more.

Her laughter only annoyed him more.

"I’ll become the greatest chef someday," he grumbled.

"I can’t wait for that," she replied, grinning while munching another piece. Then she pivoted and fed him a bite too.