Chapter 947
Chapter 947:
Yelena nodded.
“Alright p>
As the two of them prepared to leave, Maggie watched them with an air of satisfaction. A glimmer of amusement danced in her eyes as she murmured,
“You two better make good use of these opportunities I keep handing you p>
Yelena and Austin soon arrived at the art exhibition. They were just about to step inside the gallery when Austin’s phone rang.
“Wait here for a moment,” he told her. “This might be news about the heart medication you mentioned last night p>
While Yelena waited, a familiar figure emerged nearby. Upon seeing Yelena, his face lit up with surprise.
Johan had not anticipated encountering the captivating woman from the morning so soon. Fate, it seemed, had a penchant for theatrics, and this time, he was resolute—he would learn her name.
As he approached, he overheard the ticket checker addressing her. “Miss Ellen Barton, your partner is outside on a call and will be joining you shortly. Is that correct p>
For the briefest moment, hesitation flickered across Yelena’s face. A denial formed on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it down. The tickets came from Ellen, and if identification was required during purchasing, contesting the name could create unnecessary trouble. It was better to let sleeping dogs lie.
She trusted Austin—sharp as ever—to decipher the situation without explanation.
So, she simply replied, “Yes p>
With that, she stepped inside, her posture poised yet unhurried. Johan followed suit after having his ticket checked, his curiosity sharpening with each passing second.
Yelena entered the gallery with measured grace, her gaze immediately drawn to the paintings that adorned the walls like whispers from another world.
She wore a flowing light blue dress, hastily selected by Maggie in the morning’s rush. The fabric draped over her form like a calm river reflecting the sky, each fold carrying an air of understated elegance. She had changed out of yesterday’s attire with visible reluctance, yet the dress suited her—too well, perhaps, for someone who had no desire to impress.
New chapters now on.cøm
The hem of her skirt swayed gently with each step, tracing silent patterns against the polished floor.
Her long hair cascaded over her shoulders, with a few stray strands rebelliously brushing against her cheeks, lending her a touch of carefree vitality. Her eyes, sharp and contemplative, moved across the paintings as though seeking to unravel the very essence of the artist’s soul.
The gallery was steeped in an intoxicating blend of pinewood and oil paints, the air thick with the scent of inspiration.
Sunlight streamed through towering windows, spilling golden hues across the polished floor and setting the room aglow in an almost ethereal light.
She halted before a particular painting—one that spoke in colors rather than words. It depicted towering mountains embracing rivers wreathed in mist, as though nature itself had paused to dream.
“The artistic depth in this piece is astonishing,” she murmured, admiration threading through her voice like a silver filament.
“Indeed,” came a voice from behind—deep, smooth, carrying the ease of someone who spoke only when necessary. “The artist is a rising talent. His work captures both the pulse and mystery of nature p>
Yelena turned, her expression tightening slightly as her gaze fell upon the speaker.
A tall man stood before her, clad in a dark suit with a loosened tie, the small rebellion lending him an air of effortless charm. His features were sharply chiseled, yet there was a softness in his eyes—a look of quiet intensity.