Chapter 3

Vivian booked an entire floor of an art gallery.

She stood beside Liam and watched him pose.

In a gentle tone I had never heard from her before, she said, “That angle is good.”

Liam smiled and adjusted his pose. “If Ms. Blake paints me, it’ll definitely be worth a lot.”

The corner of his eye swept toward me, full of provocation.

The gallery manager flattered him. “Mr. Hayes really has such artistic presence.”

Vivian did not deny it.

The manager looked at me. “And this gentleman is...?”

Vivian seemed to have only just remembered me. “He’s with us. Ethan, take a look too.”

The manager exclaimed, “You’re even this kind to your assistant. Ms. Blake, you’re so considerate.”

I said nothing and continued replying to emails on my phone.

I had already handled my family’s affairs.

“I’ll look at that one.” I casually pointed at a landscape painting.

“Then I like that one too,” Liam immediately said.

I frowned. “Go look over there.”

“I’m just looking.”

He suddenly turned sideways, jabbed his elbow into my ribs, and tripped me with his foot.

I stumbled backward and crashed into the base of a metal sculpture.

The edge scraped across my arm and back, burning with pain.

I also hit the glass cabinet beside it, and the replica sculptures inside shattered all over the floor.

Vivian rushed over, her face dark.

Liam retreated to a safe distance, covered the back of his hand that had “accidentally” brushed against some broken plaster, and frowned.

“Is Mr. Cole upset? If you don’t want me to look, I won’t look. Why did you have to push me?”

He held out his hand, where there was a barely visible red mark on the back.

Vivian immediately held his hand, her face full of distress.

“How did this happen? Does it hurt?”

She glared at me. “Ethan! Are you really that petty? Was it worth it over one painting?”

I braced myself against the base and tried to stand, but my wound hurt and blood was seeping out.

I opened my mouth. “I didn’t. He was the one who—”

“You’re still making excuses?” she cut me off, not seeing my miserable state. “It’s always like this with you!”

She held Liam’s hand and comforted him softly. “Don’t be scared. I’ll take you to a doctor.”

Liam leaned against her and frowned pitifully. “Will it affect my painting?”

“No. I’ll take you to the best doctor.”

She supported him and turned to leave.

When she passed me, she did not stop, only threw me one cold sentence.

“I’ll make up a drawing for you later.”

Then she left without looking back.

She left me behind with the mess all over the floor.

The “makeup drawing” promised in the gallery should be the hundredth one.