Regretting The Wife He Threw Away

Their eyes met, both surprised to see each other.

Vernon stared at Briony, stunned.

It was a long moment before he finally stood up, looked at her, and asked, "Are you the owner of this gallery?"

Briony approached, eyeing the boy's serious expression-so mature for someone so young. After a pause, she said, "You're still a minor. If you want to sign up for classes, you'll have to bring a parent or guardian."

"My mom doesn't care about what I do." Vernon looked straight at Briony; although he was only eight, he spoke with the composure of an adult. "I can make my own decisions. Sunday afternoons are mine to spend however I want."

For a boy his age, he already had an air of authority about him.

To put it plainly, he seemed far too grown up.

But he was Xenia Cooper's son-Stewart's stepson.

Briony didn't much want to take him on.

"I'm sorry," she replied, her tone strictly professional. "Our gallery doesn't admit minors without parental consent. That's the policy."

"Is it because my mom is Xenia Cooper that you don't want to let me in?"

force this. I run a business, but I don't have

your sign out front says that gifted students could represent the gallery in international competitions," Vernon shot back, lifting his

left speechless. For someone so

pressed her lips together and took a slow breath, then decided to be blunt. "You're the Cooper family's heir. You have all the opportunities you could want. My

Vernon froze.

Briony, a flash of disappointment in

really such a curse? Did it mean he couldn't even have the chance to

hated being the

like it

lowered his head, the dejection on his face so obvious that even

them stepped forward to Briony. "Ms. Kensingtoet he really seems eager to learn. Why not just give the

clearly loves painting—and he's got

with a sigh, she

Vernon nodded. "I do."

pick a painting from the wall and try to replicate

gaze swept over the artwork displayed on the

Briony's own