When There Is Nothing Left But Love

As expected, the art gallery was packed with guests. We seemed to be a little out of place, being the only ones who showed up with the whole family.

Nathaniel was busy entertaining his other guests, so we decided to look around the gallery ourselves.

The gallery adopted the Epea architectural style from the last century. Its lobby with vaulted ceiling introduced a historic charm to the place. Under such an atmosphere, the oil paintings on the wall seemed to be veiled by a sense of mystery.

Standing in the middle of the lobby, John fixed his eyes on the Mona Lisa’s smile and gauged its authenticity. “Do you guys think it’s authentic or fake?”

“I suppose it’s authentic,” I blurted out. “Those who show up today are all prominent figures. Besides, Nathaniel is rich. I don’t think he would display a reproduction in his gallery.”

“What do you think?” John asked Ashton.

“Well, it can be authentic, and it can be fake. Actually, the oil paintings themselves have no value. They only gain popularity and rise in value because they are much sought after. To some extent, it is an excellent marketing tactic by attaching the artists’ feelings and life experiences to the artworks.”

is authentic.” John grew serious as he put his hands in his

stooped down to pick Audrey up and then replied nonchalantly, “Well, that depends on how

to look at the

shared a look

industry was not as simple as it seemed. It was a high-risk

who got to lay down the rules in the industry.

first stepped foot in the gallery faded away. After

the energetic Audrey outside the villa as the latter might prefer being out in the

Later, he went outside to answer a

grew tired after standing for a while. As I decided to find a place to rest, Nathaniel’s

Soon, I realized he was talking about the picture in front

breaking waves, a distant view from the seaside. At first glance, one couldn’t really tell if they were ebb or flood tide since