The Wrong Woman

Chapter 153

Nathan strolled over to Suzanne, captivated by her portrayal of his backyard on canvas. “I’m offering a hundred million for this

masterpiece. Any particular charity in mind?” he inquired with genuine interest.

Caught off guard, Suzanne hesitated before responding, “Any charity will do…”

Locking eyes with her, Nathan directed Cole. “Arrange a one hundred million donation to an educational institution in rural areas.”

While Cole hastened to carry out the order, Suzanne carefully rolled up her artwork and handed it to Nathan.

“On behalf of the institution, we express our deepest gratitude,” Suzanne stated earnestly.

As Nathan accepted the painting, his stern expression softened into smile.

Confused by the distant exchange, the onlookers couldn’t help but wonder about the true nature of Nathan and Suzanne’s relationship.

Meanwhile, the internet erupted with excitement over the breaking

news.

imitator and auction her latest masterpiece for charity. The unexpected revelation sparked a global frenzy

reporter approached Suzanne and started firing questions. “Would you mind an interview, Ms. Inkwell? Are

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Morrison?”

reign? Can we expect more of your artwork in the future?” another reporter pressed.

encircled Suzanne and bombarded her with inquiries. Flustered, Suzanne instinctively retreated. Unbeknownst to her, the Morrisons watched the scene with a mix

exchanged a look with Cole, who promptly instructed the soldiers to usher

took Suzanne’s hand and guided her discreetly through a side door, leaving

for today, folks. As you can see, Ms. Suzanne York is the real Inkwell. However, now isn’t the

for clarification. Dumbfounded, the Morrisons struggled to maintain composure while concealing their true feelin

Nathan’s disappearance and

in the back garden, she found no trace of the pair. Frustrated, she clenched her fists

expected that the organization would assign an idiot to impersonate Inkwell. That moron brought a knife to a gunfight and actually made a

Sally feared that her true identity might soon be

growled, “If I’d known

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