The curator clicked his tongue after hearing what the docent said. "Do you think soone like Mademoiselle Ashandra Knightson would beco close friends with just anybody? There have been so many people who tried to beco close to her over the years but all of them failed. She's well-known in the art world for being distant. Those who can beco close friends with her must be special people."
"Mada Iris Long is a celebrity and a billionaire's wife," the docent said. "People would be clamouring to be friends with soone like her. I know I would if I were in Mademoiselle Knightson's shoes."
The curator glared at him. "Don't liken yourself to Mademoiselle Knightson! Do you think that you can compare yourself with soone like her? Say that when you've reached her level."
The docent rubbed his nose, his smile a little sheepish. "I wasn't comparing myself with her. I know that she's already a living legend in the art world. I'm just saying that if soone is presented with the option of becoming friends with a celebrity and a billionaire's wife, they'll imdiately grab the opportunity."
The curator sighed and shook his head. "Didn't you hear what I said? About those who tried to get closer to Mademoiselle Knightson but failed? You think that I'm talking about your average Joe or Jane? Of course not! Most of them are powerful wealthy people—multimillionaires and even billionaires. If Mademoiselle Knightson could reject them, it ans that she's not easily swayed by wealth and connections alone. Well, she earned that kind of choice for being a genius artist celebrated by the art world."
The docent pondered his words before nodding. "If what you say is true, then maybe Mada Iris Long is indeed special. I wonder how they beca friends. Did they et through Mada Iris Long's husband?"
"I don't think so." The curator shook his head. "You weren't here during the opening night of the art exhibition. Mada Iris Long and her husband attended. Mademoiselle Knightson was extrely busy but she still did her best to personally welco them. I also noticed that while Mademoiselle Knightson is very close to Mada Iris Long, she's rather distant to CEO Jin."
"CEO Jin? Is that Mada Iris Long's husband?"
The curator nodded. "Yes. I did my research for the opening night and learned that CEO Jin is currently the most powerful businessman in their country."
"Wow. How nice. Then Mada Iris Long really lucked out. From being a celebrity, she instantly beca a rich woman by marrying a billionaire."
The curator glared at him. As a new Black Star, he almost wanted to grab a slipper and whack this stupid docent into oblivion. "You make it sound as if Mada Iris Long is a social climbing, gold digger! For your information, she was already a wealthy heiress even before marrying her husband! I don't know much about her father, but he's apparently a wealthy CEO of his own company as well."
"Really?" The docent was amazed, unaware that he just evaded the possibility of his boss almost whacking him with a slipper. "The lives of the rich and powerful are sothing we could only dream of."
This ti, the curator could only join him in sighing. "Well, there's no use in being envious of their lives. We're already lucky to be able to have jobs. Let's focus on working hard to earn money to pay our bills."
The docent nodded. "Don't worry, sir. I'll do my job well."
The curator gave him a side-eye. "You better do what you say. I also hope that you won't be so judgntal next ti and make quick assumptions about people. Here's so advice from soone who has been working in this field for many years."
The docent leaned a little forward, ready to learn sothing new.
"Those of us who work in the art world already know that the biggest clients are the rich and the powerful," the curator said. "They're the ones who can afford to buy the most valuable art."
The docent nodded, knowing that it was true.
"But judging who is the real wealthy and powerful based on appearance alone is not smart. I've been working as a curator for many years now and my instincts are quite sharp. I've t so many people from the top elite, and I can more or less judge those who are the real deal. And Mada Iris Long? She's a real deal. I think even without her husband, she can stand on her own without any issues."
The docent looked a little skeptical but he still remained quiet. After all, the curator was still his boss. It wasn't smart to continue contradicting him.
The curator knew that the docent didn't completely believe him. "The woman in a floral dress who offered to buy this painting just now? She might look like a wealthy lady but there's sothing odd about her."
"Yeah, she's very odd. There's sothing very unnatural about her. Like a ghost."
The curator nodded. This docent also had good instincts.
Neither of them ntioned the woman in a floral dress hiding her face behind a veil because Paris was known for its fashion. There were many people, especially foreigners invited to attend fashion shows, who would dress in over-the-top clothes all the ti. The outfit of the woman in a floral dress with her veil and all wasn't that out of place in this city.
What they were talking about was her aura.
The docent continued, "Also, she only offered 20 million euros for the painting. I was already so impressed until you told that other people offered more money."
"Speaking of those other people," the curator said. "I think that they're all acquainted with Mada Iris Long. I listened to their conversation with Mademoiselle Knightson when she personally had to apologize and explain to them that the painting wasn't available for sale. They mostly talked about Mada Iris Long. This is also why I warned you not to look down on Mada Iris Long. Her own personal connections are just too impressive."
They were about to continue chatting when another group entered the special wing. The curator and docent stopped chatting and welcod the new arrivals.
Outside the art exhibition, Ivy Lau looked at the gallery before climbing into a waiting car. The car imdiately drove away. There was another man in the front passenger seat beside the driver.
"The boss is on the phone," he said.
Her heart skipped a beat, but she quickly cald herself. She took the phone and answered it.
"Ah, my dear," a man's deep, srizing voice spoke.
She shivered. She wasn't sure if it was from fear or from the anticipated pleasure of what he was going to do with her on the bed once he returned to her side.
"I heard that you've been very naughty lately," he said. "You begged to grant you permission to go to Paris because you wanted to go shopping. I did. But look at what you did. You're becoming too impatient and unruly."
"I didn't et up with any of them." She tried to defend herself.
The man chuckled. His voice was too sexy.
She started to miss him but also dreaded his return at the sa ti.
"I heard you registered yourself to enter a special area in the art exhibition? How can you leave a trace like that?" His voice sounded so gentle, yet there was an unmistakable edge of danger in his tone.
She remained silent.
"I'll take that as a yes." He sighed. "I already did so many things for your sake, but here you are, still so hung up on your past."
Her heart began thudding inside her chest.
"You're making it more difficult for to justify to others why I'm keeping you."
It began harder for her to breathe with the wild galloping of her heartbeat. "I promise I'll be good. I won't disobey you anymore."
He chuckled. "I'll be a rich man if I had a dollar by how many tis you've said that to . Oh, wait. I am already a rich man! Yes, that's right. I'm rich and powerful. And I don't need soone like you."
Her breath caught in her throat. "I'm really sorry. I won't do it again. I promise."
"Yes, I don't need you, but I still like having you around," he said.
She released a shaky breath of relief.
"Go and be done with your shopping," he told her. "Don't et up with any unnecessary people or I'll make you regret it. You understand , don't you?"
"Y-yes. Of course."
The man's voice sighed again. "I also have to clean up the ss you made there. What a waste of precious resources. I'll be criticized again by my younger brother—that self-righteous fool."
After the phone call, Ivy Lau sat in the backseat in silence. She tossed the phone to the floor, not caring about the disdainful looks of the driver and the other man at the front. Then she fished out her own phone from her handbag.
She viewed a few photos she had taken from the art exhibition on her phone. It showed the painting "Once a Mother, Forever a Mother".
Her eyes narrowed as she examined the beautiful depiction of Iris Long in the painting. She removed her hat with a veil and exposed her own face that resembled the woman in the painting.
"It's you again," she murmured while caressing the face of Iris Long in the photo. "Why is it you again?"
Her eyes beca a little dazed. The phone fell from her hands.
Then she started humming the song "Phantom of Your Love".
Her tone-deaf humming made the driver and the other man grimace. Unfortunately, they could only endure.
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