Chapter 4

Vivian POV

I recovered on the hospital corridor bench for a full two hours before I could barely stand.

I didn't return to the villa. Instead, I took a cab to my art studio.

In three days, my solo exhibition, which I'd been preparing for three years, would open.

This was my dream as an illustrator, the result of countless sleepless nights.

Pushing open the studio door, the scene before me left me frozen.

The floor was covered with torn sketches, paint splattered everywhere.

Several large-scale oil paintings, my main pieces, had been slashed to ribbons with a knife.

Stella stood there with several socialite friends, holding box cutters, smiling at me.

"Oh my, Vivian's here."

Stella tossed aside her knife and dusted off her hands.

"Sorry about that. My hand slipped earlier and I damaged a few of your paintings. But don't worry, Ethan will compensate you."

"Stella!"

I rushed forward and grabbed her collar.

"You psycho! Can you even afford to compensate?!"

These were three years of my heart and soul! Every brushstroke contained my spirit!

"Let go! You're hurting me!"

Stella struggled, then her eyes flashed. She suddenly jerked backward, her back slamming hard into an easel.

The easel collapsed. Sharp wooden splinters tore through Stella's arm. Blood gushed out instantly.

Stella screamed.

The studio door burst open at that exact moment.

Ethan strode in. Seeing the scene, his pupils contracted sharply.

"Stella!"

He rushed over and shoved me aside.

Already weakened, I slammed into the wall from his push. Pain exploded in the back of my head. My vision went black.

"Ethan, it hurts..."

Stella leaned against Ethan, crying with tears streaming down her face.

"I just wanted to see Vivian's paintings, but she suddenly went crazy..."

Ethan looked at the blood on Stella's arm, his expression terrifyingly dark.

He turned to look at me, his eyes like poisoned daggers.

"Vivian, do you think I've been too lenient with you?"

I steadied myself against the wall, pointing at the destruction everywhere, my voice shaking.

"Ethan, are you blind? She destroyed my exhibition! Destroyed my life's work!"

"They're just some worthless paintings!"

Ethan cut me off coldly.

"If Stella's hand scars, you couldn't repay it with your life!"

Just some worthless paintings.

My heart convulsed violently.

Once, even my casual sketches, he would carefully frame and hang in his study.

He said my paintings were priceless treasures.

Now he said they were just worthless paintings.

"Someone get in here."

Ethan ordered the bodyguards outside.

"Burn everything left here. Since she can't control herself, she shouldn't paint anymore."

"Ethan, don't you dare!"

I lunged forward but was held down firmly by the bodyguards.

I could only watch helplessly as the bodyguards lit a fire barrel and threw my remaining sketches in one by one.

The flames reflected in my eyes, burning away my last tears.

I didn't cry. I didn't struggle anymore. I just stared at Ethan.

Ethan carried Stella and left without looking back.

"Vivian, you brought this on yourself."

Only the crackling sound of burning flames remained in the studio. I knelt before the ashes and laughed.

Laughed until my heart broke, laughed with tears streaming down my face.

The exhibition was completely ruined.

I locked myself in my apartment for three days.

On the fourth day, Ethan's assistant knocked on my door and handed me a gilded invitation.

"Mr. Sinclair is holding an engagement party for Stella next month. Mr. Sinclair said she really admires your artistic style. He hopes you can hand-paint a ten-foot-tall portrait backdrop for their engagement party."