Chapter 4
Natalia took a sip of champagne and spoke lightly.
She said, "Next month, my 'Rebirth' themed art exhibition still needs a final showpiece.
"Would you be willing to come?"
The young man was so thrilled he almost dropped to his knees right then and there.
"Absolutely! Of course I want to!" he blurted out.
Natalia flashed a smile, slipped on her sunglasses, and walked away without another word.
"My assistant will talk to you about the rest," she said.
Her high heels clicked sharply against the polished floor.
With every step, it felt like she was stomping on the weak, pathetic version of herself she used to be.
Ingemar said Natalia wouldn't even make it without him.
But now she was living her best life.
She was doing so well that he didn't even have the right to see her anymore.
She slid into a black Rolls-Royce, and her assistant handed her a document.
"Boss, here's an invitation from the Guimond Partnership back home. They want you to connect them for their transformation project, specifically, to introduce Master Evergreen," her assistant said.
Natalia took the document, and when her eyes landed on the words "Guimond Partnership," a flash of mockery flickered in her gaze.
Master Evergreen's name crossed her mind.
He was the grandmaster of oil painting, famous for his eccentric ways, and he'd put down his brush years ago.
He was also the one who taught her everything she knew.
"Turn them down," she said, nonchalantly flipping through the document. "Tell them I never work with soulless corporations."
"Yes," her assistant replied.
The car slowly rolled forward.
Natalia leaned back in her seat, watching the scenery race past the window, her eyes gradually turning colder with each passing moment.
Back at the Guimond Partnership CEO's office, Ingemar slammed a document down on the desk.
"Useless! All of you are useless!" Ingemar roared, his eyes bloodshot as he glared at the executives.
"You can't even get in touch with the Hidden One! Why do I even keep you around?"
The executives stood frozen, not even daring to make a sound.
Over the past six months, Ingemar's temper had gotten worse and worse. He was like a walking time bomb, ready to explode at the slightest provocation.
Everyone knew it was all because his wife had walked out on him.
One of them said, "Mr. Guimond, we... we've really tried everything," the project lead said, forcing himself to speak. "The Hidden One is just impossible to figure out. She doesn't follow any of the usual rules.
"We offered her a sky-high curator's fee, but she completely ignored us.
"We even leveraged connections with Goldenmere royalty to arrange a meeting, but her assistant just replied, 'No time.'
"And now, she's saying our company... has no soul."
"No soul?" Ingemar repeated.
He actually let out a laugh, the kind that was more anger than amusement.
"Great! No soul, huh? What a joke!" he spat.
"Who does she think she is anyway? Just a curator putting on airs, acting all mysterious! Does she really think she's some kind of god?"
He paced restlessly around his office, barely containing his frustration.
The family's transformation project was something he personally spearheaded.
The key was securing the exclusive rights to Master Evergreen's last masterpiece, so they could turn it into art merchandise.
Everything was set, but now the whole thing was held up by the Hidden One.
Master Evergreen had said it himself he only trusted the Hidden One with his paintings.
"Book me a flight!" Ingemar stopped in his tracks and barked, "To Velmoor!
"I refuse to believe I won't be able to see her if I go myself."
When Iliona got wind of the news, she wasted no time and came looking for Ingemar.
Her makeup was flawless, she was decked out in designer brands, and had the newest designer bag swinging from her arm.
Even though Ingemar had been colder to her these past six months, he never let her want for anything material.
To everyone else, she was still the glamorous, soon-to-be young mistress of the Guimond family.
"Ingemar, you're heading to Velmoor? Can I tag along with you?" she asked, her voice laced with a playful whine.
She snuggled up to his arm, acting all cute and clingy.
"I really look up to the mysterious Hidden One. Who knows... maybe I could even lend a hand," she added, her tone soft and coaxing.
Ingemar looked at her, his gaze conflicted.
He pulled his arm back, his tone distant.
"No need. I'm going there for work," he said, his voice cold and detached.
"But..." Iliona tried to protest, but her words faltered.
"I told you, no!" Ingemar cut her off, his voice suddenly sharp.
Iliona's eyes grew misty with hurt as she lowered her head, looking pitiful and wronged.
"Ingemar, are you still upset with Natalia? Don't be so cold, okay? I'm really worried about you, you know..." she said.
She was fine until she mentioned Natalia, then Ingemar's temper snapped, his fury erupting instantly.
"Get out!" he roared, pointing at the door.
Iliona's face turned pale as a sheet.
She bit her lip, her eyes brimming with tears, but in the end, she turned away, unwilling to leave but having no choice.
The moment she stepped out, her look of vulnerability and grievance vanished instantly.
In its place was a hatred so toxic it felt laced with poison.
Her hatred for Natalia flared up again.
She was furious that Natalia tried to steal her man.
Iliona pulled out her phone and dialed a number.
"Hey, I need you to look into someone for me," she said.