Diarmuid loved every moment that she was holding him, and was smiling smugly. Looking down at her, he quietly asked, “You‘d know if I‘m strong, wouldn‘t you?”
Abigail was confused, and once again wondered if he really was nuts. “How would I know?” Diarmuid said pointedly, “You‘d just know.”
Abigail had no idea what he was getting at, and simply thought it a miscommunication.
As they stepped outside the hospital, Diarmuid held her even tighter so that she would not catch a cold. Jimmy the chauffeur opened the door to let them in, and he gently placed her in the car and straightened her clothes.
Abigail looked up to find the serious, doting look on her face, and suddenly felt mystified… but she dispeled the thought soon enough.
A man who pushed her off a building without caring for her life, being nice?
She really doubted that.
As Abigail’s expression turned indifferent, Diarmuid asked her, “Are you cold?”
“No,” she replied simply, having no intention to say another word.
Diarmuid was more or less dispirited by her coldness, but tolerated and empathized. She had lost their children and was in the middle of her postpartum phase, and the sheer spite she must be holding after he pushed her off a building was all too understandable.
He was willing to spend some time to let her warm up to him.
After helping her into the car, he got in from the other door.
Once they arrived at the destination, the chauffeur alighted and took the wheelchair from the trunk, while Diarmuid got out as well to carry Abigail, putting her in the wheelchair along with a blanket to keep her feet warm. Abigail looked up and thought then that Harvey knew how to pick a good spot: the Old Gates of Cloud City was a national heritage site, preserved through the ages. One could smell the history just from standing there!
As Diarmuid wheeled her inside, they saw that many other cars were parked outside as well — Harvey has invited many others,
Soon, they were in the exhibition hall. When Abigail saw the exhibits, she was left spacing out for a moment, and more or less understood why Harvey had put together the exhibition.
When she first arrived in Sunny City, she took over an art studio. Harvey had later shut it down and erased every trace so that Diarmuid did not find any.
She had left many paintings back at the studio. So was this what Harvey was up to? Annoying Diarmuid? She raised a brow at the thought–so be it.
Hell, she would be spared a lot of hassle if Diarmuid divorced her over this.
Harvey was having a conversation with several guests when he spotted their arrival, and came to them.
“Welcome, Mr. Althoff. Oh, sorry, I think I forgot to send you an invitation too,” he said, even though he had put together the exhibition for Diarmuid.
After all, he knew that the man would definitely come. Diarmuid gave him a cool sideways glance. “We’re married, so an invitation to her is an invitation to me.”
He put clear emphasis on the word ‘married‘-a perfect retort against Harvey’s dissing.
Though Harvey was annoyed, he did not show it.
It was not the time to be angry, because the best is yet to come.
“Oh, you‘re such an entertainer, Mr. Althoff. Everyone else gets married normally, but you‘d rather have a secret marriage instead – I guess Abigail is really that embarrassing for you. that you don’t want to be seen in public with her.” He swiped back at Diarmuid with a backhand comment.
Diarmuid did not turn directly, but he had lowered his gaze to Abigail. Not many were aware of their secret marriage–certainly not Harvey. Even if he could see now that they were married, he should not have known that he was keeping it a secret! Harvey could see what he was thinking, and smugly said, “Abigail told me.” Diarmuid‘s heart sank, and he actually felt uncomfortable. She told him?
Harvey kept smiling as he turned toward Abigail. “Are you alright?”
Abigail nodded.
Harvey kept smiling. “Shall I give you a tour, although I‘m sure you‘re familiar with the works here?”
“Of course, we‘re here for the excitement,” Abigail said. She could well have told him, ‘Don‘t keep us waiting–play your cards already, instead of sparring with words.
“Alright then. The best ones are further inside.” Harvey appeared utterly enthusiastic as he led the way.
They soon arrived at the center hall, where the paintings hung on the walls were covered in white cloth. The room swirled with an atmosphere of mystery!
Abigail then remembered a certain painting she drew, and turned toward Harvey just then! Harvey grinned. “Did you forget the months you spent at my place?” Turning toward Diarmuid, he laughed without a care. “I love this painting to the bone, Mr. Althoff. You really should take your time to admire it when it‘s unveiled!”
Harvey was provoking and bragging at Diarmuid, which left Abigail feeling unusually guilty, though she had no idea why she felt that way.
Meanwhile, it turned out that Harvey had invited everyone rich and important to the art exhibition.
While it appeared to be a grand occasion, many artists who had some degree of reputation could put together something like that as well.
One should mention here that the works of anonymous artists tend not to receive admiration, let alone be bought at overpriced rates.
As such, since most of the art pieces on show had no signatures, someone asked, “Harvey, where did you find these paintings? There‘s no signature or anything…”
Harvey simply smiled. “Patience. You will soon understand the value of these pieces.”
“You had better not disappoint us. I would acknowledge the skill and aesthetic of the pieces, but if the artist is unknown, it will never be up to standard.”
Harvey kept smiling.
“Now that depends on…” He allowed his voice to trailed off as he turned toward Diarmuid. Diarmuid never looked at him, however, he was engrossed with the paintings. He was no patron of the arts, but he admired those paintings, because they seemed to speak straight to a person’s heart.
Once everyone arrived, Harvey took the stage, acting mysterious as he spoke, “I have two pieces as my piece de resistance–one will be put up for auction, and anyone may bid for it if you’re interested. The second piece, however, is the gem of this exhibition and not for sale.”
“Quit acting all mysterious!” someone snapped impatiently. “Show us already!” Harvey personally unveiled the painting, and after everyone spotted the simple ‘K‘ signature, and began to admire the painting. It was a portrait of a pregnant woman standing by the window. White curtains veiled half her visage, and she was wearing a gown over her swelling belly. Though her beauty was almost concealed, the silhouette was clear enough to show the motherly love in her eyes, which shone as brightly as the stars. One could not help being captivated. Diarmuid immediately recognized the person in the painting, because it was obviously Abigail.
His knuckles clenched and soon eased this was his first time seeing her pregnant,
It certainly did not dull her beauty, but her air of tenderness was something he had never seen before
That was when Harvey said, “This painting is the work of a famous artist, but the lady portrayed makes it far more valuable. Also, this is the piece which is available for sale, and the Starting bid will be 40 million dollars.”
In fact, the portrait was the work of an artist he had hired to draw a portrait of Abigail.
While she was under his custody, she would kill time by painting. That was when Harvey found out that she was as good a doctor as she was a painter.
It made him admire her more.
Hence, to have a keepsake of her pregnancy, he thought that he should draw her. He was no artist, however, and Abigail could not draw herself. Even if photos offered a clear image, it lacked mood and aesthetics,
As such, he worked hard to earn Abigail‘s approval, giving him permission to hire K to paint a portrait of her pregnancy. Abigail agreed to it, because she was eager to save something of her pregnancy for the sake of posterity.
Back at the present, the crowd was in an uproar. Kwas a famous artist, but his works never sold upward of a million.
When it was obvious that Harvey was scalping, someone snapped immediately, “Did you lose your mind, Harvey? Do you really want money so badly you‘d sell the painting of some unknown woman for 40 million dollars?!”
Harvey was perfectly confident and shot back, “Others would know to appreciate fine art and its value, even if you don‘t.” As he spoke, he was darting glances at Diarmuid. “Are you interested, Mr. Althoff? If you‘re not, I don‘t mind keeping it beside my bed and admiring it every night before I sleep.” Abigail frowned. She could feel the lust in Harvey‘s words!
“I‘ll buy it,” Diarmuid said.
“I expected nothing less from someone as generous as you, Mr. Althoff. Still, this is an auction, and the highest bidder wins!” Harvey laughed. After losing so much to Diarmuid, he needed to get something back, at least. “41 million dollars,” someone shouted just then Naturally, Harvey had arranged for that person to do so ahead of time!
Harvey had made the arrangement to force Diarmuid into making a higher bid.
Whatever happened, he would make sure to slice a fat chunk of money from that man, because it took one to know one!
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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