Chapter 351

Jeffrey’s eyes bulged in disbelief, and for a long moment, he struggled to process what he had just heard.

After a brief pause, he snapped back to reality and roared at Fiona Ellington, “Are you out of your mind? Ten billion dollars to them? Do we look like we’re running a charity here?”

With ten billion dollars, you could open a string of world–class art galleries! He thought.

Fiona must have lost her marbles by giving out such an astronomical number.

Fiona shot him an icy glance before turning to Vivienne and Percival, “Give me an account number. I’ll transfer the funds to you!”

She wasn’t offering this fortune for Jeffrey’s sake, but to keep Percival and Vivienne from dismantling the other art galleries.

Some of the galleries Jeffrey had established were a front for under–the–table dealings, which were secrets that outsiders must never uncover. It was a network she had painstakingly built, hidden from her entire family.

Even Jeffrey, the supposed head, was clueless about it.

If these secrets were ever exposed, she’d stand to lose up to thirty billion dollars.

When weighed against ten billion, it was a no–brainer. She had to protect those assets.

And Fiona didn’t buy for a second that Percival could go after her family without a reason.

Mr. Percy’s stature alone had put him at the zenith of power; he wouldn’t bat an eyelid at a few art galleries, let alone a few hundred billion

Yet, he was insistent on tearing down the galleries. She suspected he knew something.

It seemed Percival had to go. His very existence was the most significant threat to her.

With Percival around, the inheritance wouldn’t fall into her hands even if the old man died. Not to mention that Richard Ellington was still alive

the picture, the other

her gaze

provided her

family first, given the sum involved. You’ll have the money by tonight at the latest!” Fiona declared confidently. It seemed that she was not the least bit

Vivienne nodded, “Agreed”

Gallery’s secretary, and soon after, the team that had

as Fiona casually promised to hand over ten billion dollars. He stormed off, neglecting the gallery’s guests.

she she

made to leave too. But they were suddenly halted by a voice.

that painting

leaning on a cane; his hair was almost entirely white with just

modestly but exuding a palpable authority. His aged,

“This

“but you

and

this painting feels familiar to me I’d like to buy it to help find her,” the old

to me

the person in

back, and only someone who

behind her ear, the old man recounted his voice was tinged with a hint of melancholy “My lost daughter has a mole in the same place Even though it might

on the painting

years without a

taken aback

a

named Sasha, yet the

Chapter.

the person

the old man could finish,

apologized, “I’m sorry to have

Vivienne replied softly, her thoughts evidently elsewhere.

I may be so bold, the mole behind your mother’s ear is in the exact spot as my daughter’s. May I ask if you know much about your maternal

Vivienne’s voice suddenly turned cold,

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