Chapter 385

Three days later, the Mile Art Museum glittered like a jewel box. Crystal chandeliers fractured the light into diamonds that danced across the marble floor,painting the exhibition hall in shifting mosaics of brilliance and shadow.

Molly swept in wearing a custom mint-green gown the hem whispering with each step. Diamond hairpins caught the light like shards of ice, scattering sparks with the sway of her head.

She stood before her crown jewel of an oil painting,her voice smooth as silk as she described the inspiration behind her work. Guests leaned closer,faces bright with fascination-or at least the polished version of it society demanded.

The moment she fell silent, a woman at her side pressed a manicured hand to her chest, nearly wilting against the weight of admiration. The hem of her gown fanned across the carpet as she gasped,"This composition is divine! Miss Kirk, your command of light and shadow would shame the masters."

Not to be outdone, another rich lady in scarlet heels teetered forward, her lips glossed into a perfect smile."Molly, you're extraordinary. The way you wield color,your brushwork-it's genius. Picasso reborn, surely."

From behind them, a third voice chimed in, sweet as honey and twice as sticky. "I hear you're preparing for a solo tour? My husband insists we must secure one of your originals for our collection."

Praise wrapped around Molly like a silken cloak. Her smile widened, bright enough to reach her eyes, and she lifted her chin, shoulders drawn elegantly back With a dainty hand grazing her lips, she laughed lightly."I'm truly flattered."

The chorus came at once. "You're too modest, Molly Far too modest."

Compliments swelled, rippling through the room like music. Yet when Molly turned, fixing her gaze on the canvas, the sound faltered into a brief hush.

The women's smiles froze in place, but their eyes betrayed the truth-a flicker of shared understanding.Crooked lines, clashing colors, chaos disguised as art.Still, what did it matter? Keeping Molly pleased meant keeping Sherwood's influence close, and business always trumped honesty.

From the shadows at the edge of the hall, Verena observed. A tray balanced on her hands, her work badge catching the light, she studied the scene through narrowed eyes.

The exaggerated gasps, the syrupy laughter-it was theater, nothing more. A faint smirk tugged at her lips beneath the mask.

The intermission music swelled.

Guests drifted toward the buffet, gowns shimmering like liquid jewels, champagne flutes winking under the chandeliers' fractured glow.

Molly brushed the pearl tassels at her temple, and then turned, her white heels clicking as she glided toward the lounge.

Verena adjusted her grip on the tray, slipping through the tide of servers. She hugged the wall, following at a measured pace.

The carved doors closed behind Molly with a heavy sigh, shutting out the din of the hall.

Inside, she sank onto the sofa and flicked open her compact, tilting the mirror toward her painted lips.Then a knock came sharp and sudden.

"Miss Kirk, would you like a glass of specially prepared lime soda?" Verena's voice, deliberately softened,came through the door. "No Leave it. Molly murmared dabbing at her lipstick her eyes never leaving the reflection

The latch clicked. The door swung open A huzr followed as it closed again.

Verena entered without ceremony, the tray steady in her hands. She set the glass down, porcelain against marble in a crisp chime.

"I told you, don't you understand-" Molly spun, only to falter mid-sentence.

Verena was already seated on the sofa opposite, mask discarded,her delicate features revealed beneath the low light.

Molly blinked, confusion flaring. "What are you doing here? And in those clothes?"

Verena looked up with a calm that felt more like command than courtesy. A playful glint lingered in her gaze. "Do you have a moment? We need to talk."

Molly's laugh was short and sharp, breaking through clenched teeth.

She smoothed the skirt over her knees, coral nails dragging slowly across the fabric. "Talk? Is this your idea of asking for a favor? Verena, when you shattered the team I personally built in front of all the senior executives,you weren't half so polite "

She stretched out the word "personally", letting it roll off her tongue like poison, before pinning Verena with a blazing glare. "And now you come to me-just to talk?"

Verena idly twirled a lock of hair before tucking her curls behind one ear, the casual motion drawing attention to the sharp line of her jaw. Her voice was smooth, almost indifferent. "Miss Kirk, you misunderstand. Every choice I mnade at the company was deliberate-and I don't regret a single one."

Her tone was as mild as small talk, but the ice underneath was unmistakable. "Parasites don't last forever. Clearing them out was only a mnatter of time."

The words struck like flint. Molly snapped her compact shut, tossing it aside as she leapt to her feet,finger stabbing the air at Verena. "Then why are you here-just to gloat?"

Verena rose at her own pace, smoothing her uniform as if the confrontation were no more than an inconvenience. She crossed the room with measured steps, stopping just within reach of the lamp's warm glow.

Her eyes, lit clear and bright beneath the yellow light,fixed on Molly. Her voice softened into sincerity."I want to talk about Luis."

The name struck like ice water thrown over flame.Molly froze, her anger slipping away mid-breath. The arch in her brows faltered, knitting together as confusion clouded her gaze. "Luis?" The word broke from her lips uncertain, fragile.

Her voice, so sharp moments ago, dipped into something almost tentative, almost breaking.

"But..." Her hand drifted to her skirt, fingers tracing the pleats as memories flooded in-that number she dialed until her fingertips ached, messages that vanished into silence as if the phone itself had swallowed them, like a bottomless sea...

She lowered her gaze, voice heavy with the weight of that absence. "Luis doesn't want to talk to me anymore. He must be furious."

Verena studied the bowed figure before her,something indefinable stirring in her chest-an emotion she couldn't quite name.

Collecting herself, she spoke with calm precision."Let's continue this somewhere else."

Molly lifted her head. The fight had gone from her eyes, replaced by a helplessness flickering in their depths. "I wish I could. But my father ordered me not to step foot anywhere except the art museum. He's got bodyguards posted outside. There's no way out"

Her glance slid toward the door, a sigh caught on her lips. "They've been loyal to him for more than a decade. Forcing our way past them would be impossible."

At that, Verena turned, tugging open the storage cabinet tucked against the lounge wall. A folded gray uniform tumbled out, creased with lines from long neglect.

She shook it loose and offered it to Molly, and then drew a plain mask from her pocket and set it neatly on the low table. "Which is why you're going to change into this."

Ten minutes later, the carved wooden door of the lounge eased slightly open.

Two figures emerged-Verena and Molly, nearly unrecognizable in identical gray work uniforms, masks shadowing most of their faces.

Verena angled her badge just enough to look careless,her stride brisk and practiced, the picture of someone hauling supplies under pressure. Her eyes,however,flicked sharp and watchful over the crowd.

Together they melted into the line of servers ferrying trays of drinks, swallowed by the flow of bodies moving through the hall.