He Chose the So-Called Sister Chapter 321: Unflattering Shots of Sherry

And yet, they never actually got attacked by the Harrisons. The family never even responded to them. They just strutted around, acting all special and different—and ended up gaining a ton of fans for it.

"We don't engage because people like that? Eventually, their own words come back to bite them. Just a matter of time."

Max filled her in during the car ride.

That made things easier.

Sherry wasn't looking for more conflict. In other jobs, fine. But showbiz?

She'd bet everything Julia would cause trouble here.

Sherry was handling this division now. One troublemaker was enough. She didn't need an army of them.

This time, they were here to watch a Harrison-owned celebrity's photoshoot. Sherry and Max would help where needed, but also check quality.

Kind of like a supervisor inspection.

Though they'd come on "work" pretext. The crew might not recognize them.

After all, Sherry and Max worked at headquarters.

And rumors about Sherry? Mostly vanished and scrubbed clean. Anyone who remembered and searched would find nothing.

Conspiracy theorists had field days—maybe the families staged drama for publicity. Plausible enough. Many bought it.

So most didn't believe Sherry had real power. Assistant, at best.

Assistant sounded important. But below actual managers.

Equity? No one believed that.

Out of sight, out of mind. Besides, Sherry and Lucas didn't "match."

Why was Sherry thinking about this now? Because she was standing right behind the gossipers.

Max had gone to park. So Sherry entered alone.

The studio was massive, crowded with crew. And apparently, gossip central.

A cluster chattered loudly.

"Hey, heard about Sherry? She's supposed to work here soon."

"That average-looking woman? Sticks to our CEO like glue. He goes anywhere, she follows. Assistant! Not even personal assistant. Why are they always together?"

"Ooh, shots fired. She'd freak out hearing that. Don't poke wounds. Those online pics? Filtered. Real-life? Old and ugly."

The speaker cackled.

"Word is, women without men's love age terribly. Probably some unsatisfied witch. Her face now? Bet it's ugly."

A guy chimed in, "Right. Total princess syndrome. Thinks she's all that just 'cause some guy married her. Must've been desperate."

"Come on. Divorced woman. Used goods. Kitchen hag. Her skin's probably worse than mine—AHH! Who the hell are you?"

His voice shrieked like an old lady. The group spun around.

There was Sherry.

In that instant, even though they'd seen Sherry's photos online, they didn't recognize her.

Online photos—mostly posted by Wendy or Julia—made people sympathize with Sherry or trash her.

But some fans cared about looks. Julia's pictures were always airbrushed perfection—high-def and flawless.

Casual observers, people who didn't dig deeper, would say, "She's so pretty. Doesn't seem like someone who'd do bad things."

Others agreed, "Face reflects the heart. She looks kind. More importantly, she's stunning."

Fans converted.

And since she wasn't caught in bed cheating red-handed—entertainment news was messy—maybe it wasn't real.

After all, looks ruled everything. Then she just filtered out casual fans until all she had left were diehard stans who'd defend her no matter what.

So Sherry's face was basically a mosaic-level blur online, and since these people loved Julia, they naturally hated Sherry.

They churned out unflattering photos of her constantly.

Newcomers saw those and assumed that was what Sherry looked like—so old.

And those fans would drop new unflattering shots of Sherry now and then. While they were trashing Sherry, they kept one of Sherry's photos on hand.