Chapter 2
"Richard, you're here," a woman called out, coming over to greet him.
She wore a white silk dress, and her hair was casually pinned up, with a breezy grace that made her look effortlessly relaxed.
It was Nina.
She didn't even look at me. Her gaze was locked onto Richard.
"This painting, 'The Way Home', I made it abroad while thinking of you," Nina said, her voice choking as she pointed at the somber oil painting hanging on the wall.
"I couldn't afford paint back then, and I almost gave up on it. But then I remembered what you said, that I was a genius," she said.
Richard's eyes softened instantly.
He let go of my hand and stepped forward, standing beside Nina.
They stood shoulder to shoulder—one dazzling with talent, the other radiating success. Honestly, they looked like a perfect match.
I lingered off to the side, feeling like nothing more than their bag-carrying assistant.
People around us were whispering. "I heard Mr. Payne dropped 1.5 million to put on her art show."
"Doesn't his wife care?"
"His wife? She's just a pretty face. All she ever does is shop and get her nails done. Mr. Payne's gonna dump her sooner or later."
I checked out Nina's dress.
It was a Chanel designer piece from last year's collection.
If my memory served, I bought it, wore it once, and then tossed it in the old clothes bin.
Richard actually picked it up and gave it to Nina?
Now that was what I called thrifty.
"Mrs. Payne," Nina suddenly turned to me, her lips curled into a sweet, knowing smile.
She said, "Richard told me you don't know the first thing about investing or finances, that you just like to indulge yourself.
"Honestly, living simply isn't so bad. Not like me, losing sleep and hair every day just trying to keep the gallery afloat."
She was basically calling me dumb.
Richard frowned, seeming to think her words were out of line, but he kept quiet.
I flashed a sugary, innocent smile.
"Yeah, Ms. Scott, you really work so hard. But if running the gallery is such a headache, why not just shut it down?" I said.
The atmosphere froze for a moment.
Nina's expression stiffened, and her eyes suddenly welled up with tears.
She looked over at Richard, biting her lip and staying quiet, like she'd just been hit with the biggest injustice in the world.
Richard spun around and shot me a glare. "Grace, what nonsense are you talking about? Art isn't something you can put a price tag on.
"If you don't understand, just keep your mouth shut and stop embarrassing yourself."
His voice was loud, and all the guests nearby turned to look.
I shrank back and lowered my head, looking genuinely startled.
"Sorry, I was just... just saying whatever," I stammered.
Richard let out a cold snort and dragged Nina off to toast the other guests, leaving me stranded right where I was.
I turned and headed over to the lounge area in the corner.
I pulled out my phone and texted a private investigator, Jerry. [Did you find out the real story behind Nina Scott's gallery finances?]
He replied in seconds. [Yeah, got it. The gallery's short 6 million, and Richard's been plugging all the holes.
[As for that so-called international award she has been bragging about? She paid for a worthless prize. Got all the evidence ready for you.]
I swirled the champagne in my glass.
6 million. No wonder Richard was so eager for me to sign the asset trust agreement.
Turned out, he just wanted to patch up his lover's mess.
Early the next morning, I walked into Richard's company, holding a box of freshly baked cookies.
The secretary spotted me and looked awkward, like she wanted to stop me but didn't have the nerve.
"Mrs. Payne, Mr. Payne is in a meeting right now," she said.
"No worries. I'll wait for him inside," I replied.
I pushed open the office door.
No meeting in sight, just Richard and the CFO.
Both of them were glued to the computer screen, looking seriously worried.
Richard spotted me and slammed his laptop shut with a loud snap.
He moved fast, but I still managed to see it.
The screen was showing the bank account page, and the balance was in the red.
"What are you doing here?" Richard frowned, clearly annoyed.
"Just passing by, thought I'd bring you some cookies," I said, setting the box on his desk and acting like I hadn't noticed the tension in the room.
"Hey, since Warren is here, too, why not have a taste?" I added.
Warren wiped the sweat from his forehead and gave a nervous laugh. "Thank you, Mrs. Payne. I'm fine, really."
Richard waved Warren out of the room.
Once the door closed, he let out a sigh of relief, leaned back in his chair, and rubbed his temples.
"Grace, don't let what happened yesterday get to you. Nina's been working hard all by herself overseas, and she can be a little straightforward sometimes," he said.
Was he apologizing? No, he was just laying the groundwork for something else.
Sure enough, he started, "About the agreement you signed yesterday, do you have your driver's license with you? The lawyer said we need to get it notarized."
He was really pushing for this, huh?
I blinked, giving him my best innocent look.
"Oh? My driver's license... I used it to sign up for a spa membership and left it at the salon," I said.
Richard's expression visibly darkened.
"How could you misplace something so important? Grace, is your head only filled with spas and shopping trips?" he snapped.
He suddenly sprang to his feet, knocking over his coffee cup in anger.
Brown liquid splashed across the desk.
It seeped into a few documents lying nearby.