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Transmigrated as a Cannon Fodder Reject, Then Became a Movie Star - Chapter 67: Spill It
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Chapter 68: Cryptically Demanded
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... ady?
She swiped to answer. "Good evening, Mr. Crewe—"
"Stop. Don’t ’Mr. Crewe’ me," he interrupted, his voice pointed but not unkind. "Makes me sound like an accountant. It’s Lennard. Or, if you must be formal, ’Your Grace of the Hinterland,’ but I wouldn’t recommend it. Terribly outdated title."
Erisia blinked. "Right... Lennard."
"Good," he said briskly, papers rustling faintly in the background. "So. Your self-tape."
She straightened instinctively. "Yes ...
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