Chapter 2
I couldn't hold back my tears any longer, and they fell onto the glass frame.
"That 15 million is enough to give you the most spectacular art exhibition. I want everyone to see your art," I said.
Early the next morning, I got a text from the bank.
All my supplementary cards were frozen.
I didn't even need to guess. It must be Phillip's doing.
He thought that by cutting off my money, I'd obediently crawl back and be his pampered pet again.
Too bad for him, he had no idea I'd already deposited that 15 million check last night and moved it straight into the art show account.
In the CEO's office of the Morton Group, the assistant came in nervously and said, "Mr. Morton, Ms. Coleman has sent back all the jewelry and bags you gave her.
"I just checked. She hasn't spent a single cent on her supplementary cards in the past three years."
Phillip stared at the mountain of luxury goods piled on his desk, his face darkening.
For the past three years, I didn't even care to touch his money or his gifts.
"Well, good for her," Phillip said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
He let out a cold, mocking laugh. "Spread the word. Anyone who dares to give Flora a job is going against me. Let's see how long she can keep pretending to be tough!"
I wandered around the job market, and sure enough, everywhere I went, doors slammed shut in my face.
As soon as the recruiters heard my name, they acted like they'd seen a ghost and hurried to shut me out.
I wasn't surprised, and I didn't feel discouraged.
Anyway, I wasn't really there to find a job. My real goal was to prepare for my art exhibition.
While passing by a gallery, I paused for a moment.
There was an unfinished oil painting in the window, its brushstrokes raw and childlike.
It brought back memories of that afternoon when Lawrence showed me how to paint.
A black Maybach pulled up behind me.
The window was rolled down, and Phillip's imperious face appeared.
He sneered, "Changed your mind?
"Get in. Go apologize to Briana, and I'll let bygones be bygones."
His tone made it sound like he was tossing me a bone.
I turned around, looking straight through Phillip, focusing on the space behind him as if he wasn't even there.
"Mr. Morton," I said coolly, "you're blocking the light. Could you step aside?"
Phillip's smile froze on his face.
He thought I was playing hard to get.
He had someone follow me and found out I'd taken over a gallery in an off-the-beaten-path location and was busy renovating it.
"Using my money to keep some pretty boy?" Phillip muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he scanned the report.
That same night, two bodyguards "invited" me to Phillip's private club. It was more like they dragged me there.
The private room was thick with smoke, packed with rich kids from Duventon's elite circles.
Briana was sitting at the head of the table. When she saw me being escorted in, she put a hand over her mouth in mock surprise.
She said, "Oh my, Ms. Coleman, what brings you here? Phillip, this is a private party. And look at what Ms. Coleman is wearing."
I glanced down at my paint-splattered work pants and T-shirt, still marked from the remodel.
I was totally out of place there.
The room erupted in laughter.
"Is this the infamous ex-wife from the Morton family?" someone sneered.
"I heard she got 15 million dollars and won't leave, still trying to worm her way back into Phillip's life," another chimed in.
Phillip sat right in the middle of the couch, swirling his wine glass, his eyes cold as he stared me down.
"Don't just stand there, Flora. Briana said she wanted some shrimp. You used to be the queen of peeling them, didn't you?" he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
He gestured toward the mountain of shrimp piled up on the table.
I had a mild seafood allergy, but Phillip never had a clue, because Lawrence loved shrimp.
Back then, I became really good at peeling shrimp for Lawrence. Even when my hands got red and itchy, I didn't care. If it were for him, I would be happy to do it.
Briana sauntered over, swirling her wine glass.
"Ms. Coleman, sorry if I ever offended you before. This drink's on me," she said, her tone sickly sweet.
With a flick of her wrist, she dumped the whole glass of red wine all over me.
"Oops, my bad, Ms. Coleman. My hand slipped," Briana said with over-the-top innocence, but the smug glint in her eyes gave her away.
The whole room went dead silent, everyone waiting to see how I'd react.
Expressionless, I picked up the massive wine decanter from the table.
There was still half a bottle of red wine left inside.
Before anyone could react, I flipped my wrist and poured it right over her face.
Briana let out a shriek.
I calmly set the decanter down and said, "Oops, guess my hand slipped as well."
The whole room went dead silent.
Phillip sprang to his feet and seized my chin in a grip so fierce that it felt like he could snap my jaw.
"Flora, have you lost your mind? Apologize to Briana!" he barked.
His eyes were blazing with rage, like he wanted to devour me alive.
He forced my chin up, making me stare right back into his eyes.
In his eyes, I saw my own messy reflection, but there was not a hint of fear in me.
"Apologize?" I gave a cold laugh, my gaze so lifeless that it made him uneasy. "She's not worthy."
Phillip was stung by the look in my eyes.