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Evander leaned exceedingly close to Angeline. Due to his tall figure, his shadow enveloped her entirely.
Everyone knew that Charlie Day passed away at the end of the last century.
Therefore, that question of his exposed Angeline to public scrutiny once more.
“Well…” She naturally wouldn’t say that the owner of the house she rented while abroad for five years happened to be Charlie Day’s eldest grandson, for Angeline promised him that she would take that secret to her grave.
“Charlie Day once wrote an autobiography. On the last page, he vowed that he would definitely have all his paintings reduced to ashes alongside him if he were to die one day. And so, I surmised that.”
When her gaze collided with that of Evander’s, she immediately averted her eyes guiltily.
“Is that so?” Evander took another step closer to her, deliberately lowering his voice.
Words eluded Angeline.
A smirk tugged at Evander’s lips. Seemingly disinterested in exposing her, he turned to look at Wilfred at the main seat, whose expression was as black as thunder.
“Old Mr. Sorelle, although the painting is a counterfeit, it was indeed by a renowned painter and is priceless.”
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Pausing for a moment, he continued in a low and solemn voice, “If you’re not satisfied with it, I’ll make amends with a different gift another day.”
That comment of his was a show of respect for the Sorelle family. Wilfred gave him a tight smile, the wrinkles on his face bunching together. “Of course not, Mr. Golding. I’m very much satisfied with it.”
Following that, a mocking smile bloomed on Angeline’s face. Glancing at Joseline at the side, she chimed in coldly, “This is indeed a fine painting. If you can’t make sense of it, Grandpa, you can show it to Joseline. She’s an expert in this aspect, after all!”
Every single word brimmed with ridicule, jabbing at Joseline’s sore spot.
Joseline’s pupils constricted, and her face drained of all color.
She was just about to utter a reply when Wilfred, who sat at the side, pointed an accusing finger at Angeline. “H-How dare you!”
His chest hurt badly, and he couldn’t quite catch his breath.
His face went bright red. He was advanced in age in the first place and had been suffering from a heart condition all these years, so his health had always been poor. If Joseline hadn’t insisted on throwing him a birthday banquet, he would be resting in bed.
With Angeline’s words right then, coupled with the unforgivable mistake she once committed popping into his mind, fury blazed within him. Ultimately, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he toppled out of his seat.
“Grandpa!” Joseline’s expression changed drastically. She rushed over at once.
“Quick, call for an ambulance! Old Mr. Sorelle’s life is at risk! Hurry up and get a doctor over!”
The initially boisterous hall plunged into chaos, shrill screams piercing the air.
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When Wilfred collapsed to the ground, Angeline instinctively wanted to rush forward, but she abruptly thought of something and stopped short.
I’ve experienced the Sorelles’ indifference and callousness firsthand. Why should I step forward and invite contempt when I’d only end up stamped as a “hypocrite”?
At that thought, a stony expression flittered across her mesmerizing countenance. She timely halted her high heels from advancing and twisted them a fraction. Spinning on her heel, she left resolutely.
Everyone was coming and going from the hall. Someone had even led the doctor over. Evander swung his gaze back and thoughtfully watched as Angeline left, the look in his eyes as cold as ice.
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The contour of his profile was distinctly sculpted, his jaw clenched tight. His expression was chilly.
Sylas stole a peek at him through the rearview mirror, puzzled beyond words.
He has gotten into the car for more than ten minutes, but he has maintained this posture ever since—his brows are furrowed slightly, and he emanates a menacing aura. I wonder what he’s thinking. Could he be dwelling upon the events at the birthday banquet?
“Investigate that woman. I want a detailed report on her.” Out of the blue, Evander’s baritone voice sounded from the backseat.
“Understood!”
Just then, Evander’s phone rang, breaking the silence in the car.
Taking out his phone, Evander cast a glance at it.
It was a phone call from the Golding residence. He frowned slightly.
No sooner had he picked up the call than he heard a babyish female voice crying and making a fuss while the housekeeper cajoled her.
At once, Evander knew that Floretta Golding refused to eat again.
After saying a few words, he hung up the phone. He pinched the bridge of his nose and instructed Sylas, “Return to the Golding residence first.”
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