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?"

this. I run

front says that gifted students could represent the gallery in international competitions," Vernon shot back, lifting his chin. "I think I

speechless. For someone so young, he spoke with

"You're the Cooper family's heir. You have all the opportunities

Vernon froze.

Briony, a flash of disappointment in his

a curse? Did it mean he couldn't even have the chance to compete on a level playing field,

being the Cooper

didn't like

dejection on his face so obvious that even

really seems eager

Ms. Kensington, he clearly loves painting—and he's got a mind of his own,

lite with a sigh, she relented

Vernon nodded. "I do."

pick a painting from the wall and

over the artwork

Briony's own works-pieces