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?"

let's not force this. I run a business, but

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

someone so young,

"You're the Cooper family's heir. You have all the opportunities you could want. My gallery is for kids who truly need support.

Vernon froze.

Briony, a flash of

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

being the Cooper

didn't like it one

his head, the dejection on his face so obvious that even the parents waiting nearby felt a pang of

Kensingtoet he really seems eager to learn. Why not just

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

parents spoke one after another, making it harder for Briony lite with a sigh, she relented a you know how

Vernon nodded. "I do."

wall

gaze swept over the

were all Briony's own works-pieces not for