Chapter 5

Audrey POV

After returning from the Hayes' residence, I began a quiet purge.

Twenty-five days until I left for the island.

I sorted and packed up all the expensive gowns and jewelry Julian had customized for me in my walk-in closet, then contacted a luxury resale specialist.

I dug out the "model contracts" I once treasured. The promises Julian had personally written, ensuring I would be his exclusive muse.

His handwriting was strong and bold, once etching itself into my heart with every stroke, but now it only felt ironic.

I lit a lighter, watching the papers turn to ash in the metal basin.

"What are you burning?"

Julian pushed open the door, a faint smell of alcohol clinging to him.

Seeing the metal basin on the floor, he frowned slightly and quickly stepped forward, stomping out the last embers.

"Just some unwanted scraps of paper."

I stood up.

Julian looked at me.

He stepped forward, pulled me forcefully into his embrace, his chin resting on the top of my head, his voice tinged with a hint of appeasement.

"Are you still angry with me? That day at your parents' house, I was just trying to calm them down. You know, you're the only one in my heart."

He paused, then produced a gilded invitation as if it were a treasure.

"Tomorrow is the opening of the exhibition. I promise, this exhibition, named 'Audrey: A New Beginning', will make you the most dazzling queen in the entire art world. All the rumors will be silenced."

I lowered my gaze, looking at the invitation card bearing my name, and a silent, cold laugh escaped my heart.

If I hadn't overheard his conversation with Liam that day, I probably would have been moved to tears.

"Okay."

I softly agreed.

The next evening, the city's largest private art gallery was brightly lit.

I wore a conservative black long dress and walked into the exhibition hall, holding Julian's hand.

However, when I looked up at the giant poster in the center of the hall, my steps froze.

On the poster, the originally planned exhibition title, "Audrey: A New Beginning," had been conspicuously replaced with "Lyla's Growth."

The irony wasn't lost on me.

And in the very center of the exhibition hall, under the brightest spotlights, wasn't the oil painting of me, but a massive sculpture.

The sculpture depicted a young girl in a ballet dress, pure, noble, and untouchable.

It was Lyla's face.

I looked for a long time. Finally, in the darkest, most inconspicuous corner of the exhibition hall, I found my artwork.

The painting depicted me nude, bathed in dark red light, creating an ambiguous and alluring tone.

Below the painting hung a glaring label: "Mud under the Swan's Feet."

Mud.

So this was his idea of a "queen."

Guests gathered in small groups, pointing at the painting in the corner and letting out subtle, knowing chuckles.

"I heard this is Mr. Vance's common fiancée? Her figure isn't bad, no wonder she managed to seduce him."

"The contrast is too stark, isn't it? That sculpture in the middle is Lyla, the eldest daughter of the Hayes family, right? That's true art, elegant and sacred. The one in the corner is, at most, an explicit photo."

"Mr. Vance's intentions are brilliant. Putting his fiancée's nude painting beneath his beloved's sculpture as a backdrop. Isn't that a blatant insult?"

Their harsh words pierced my ears like needles.

I turned and looked at Julian, who stood beside me.

He was wearing a well-tailored suit, a flawless smile on his face.

He didn't even glance at me, his gaze fixed dreamily on the sculpture of Lyla in the center.

"Is this your gift to me?"

My voice was very soft, yet it was unusually clear in the noisy exhibition hall.

Julian snapped back to reality, meeting my eyes.

He quickly grabbed my hand, lowering his voice to explain.

"Listen to me. Lyla is applying to the Royal Art Academy, and she needs a prominent exhibition credit. You don't care about these superficial things, do you? You're my private muse. These paintings are in the corner to protect you, to keep too many people from seeing your body."

Protect?

Stripping away my dignity and trampling it underfoot to elevate Lyla's throne. Was this protection?

I forcefully pulled my hand away, one finger at a time, prying his grip loose.

"Julian, you're disgusting."