Chapter 5
At the sound of Chloe's voice, Elena's heart plummeted. One thought filled her mind—she was going to lose this painting.
Elena sat frozen in her chair. Everyone in the ballroom was staring at Kian, the man who'd just named his price.
Elena heard someone sigh admiringly, "So Mr. Lancaster spared no expense for his beauty!"
"Mr. Lancaster is young and accomplished, and his wife is so poised and graceful—a perfect match!"
The value of the painting had been redefined as proof of Kian's love.
Overwhelming panic seized Elena. She grabbed Kian's sleeve with all her strength. "Kian, you promised. You said this was for me."
She couldn't give it up.
Fighting back tears and nausea, she used her hands—these hands—for leverage for the first time. "Kian, this is my teacher's final work. I've been looking for it for so long. You know how important this painting is to me."
Elena's face burned. The fire traveled down her throat, bitter, then came back up tasting of rust.
Kian's brow furrowed slightly.
Elena didn't dare look at him.
He'd bid on the painting—she didn't even have the right to fight for it. Guilt-ridden, her voice came out low and hoarse. "Kian, I can give up anything else. Just not this painting…"
"Ahem." Chloe covered her mouth and coughed lightly, fragile as a willow.
Kian immediately turned to look at her, his voice low with concern. "Are you okay?"
Chloe's hand rested lightly on her abdomen. She shook her head, lowering her eyes. Her voice was thin and aggrieved. "I haven't been sleeping well these past few days. Every time I close my eyes, I think about that night…"
Elena couldn't see Kian's expression, but she clearly felt his body stiffen.
He cared about her. He worried about her. And Elena was just the villain standing between them.
Chloe smiled faintly, though her eyes looked dejected. "When I saw this painting just now, I felt so much calmer. I guess that's the power of art."
A sheen of moisture appeared in her eyes. She backed down graciously. "Never mind. If Elena wants it that badly, give it to her. I don't mind."
Chloe took the painting from the server herself and held it out toward Elena, though a hint of challenge flickered in her eyes.
Elena's hand hung in midair, her fingertips almost touching the cool wooden frame.
"It's rare to see you want something. You're already holding the painting—it's yours now."
Elena's outstretched hand froze. Her fingertips went white. Her blood seemed to congeal instantly. All the strength drained from her body.
She turned her head mechanically, staring into Kian's deep eyes—but his gaze had been on Chloe the entire time.
"Really?"
Chloe lit up with delight and quickly clutched the painting to her chest. Then she turned to Elena with a smile that looked gentle but dripped with triumph in every line of her face.
Chloe lifted her chin slightly, deliberately emphasizing her barely visible belly. "Elena, thank you so much for being so generous."
"Don't worry. My room is huge. I'll hang it above my bed and look at it every day—that way I won't let this beautiful painting go to waste. Or Kian's intentions."
Elena lowered her eyes, hiding the sting and disappointment.
In the face of Kian's favoritism, she didn't even have the right to fight. Even the life-saving debt Kian cared about most—as long as it was Chloe asking, he'd give it all up.
His partiality toward Chloe was unique. And it was something Elena could never force.
Kian casually handed the painting to Ryan, his tone cool. "Deliver this to Chloe's house personally. Hang it wherever she wants."
Ryan accepted the painting respectfully. He glanced up and saw Elena's ashen face. Sighing inwardly, he gathered his courage and quietly suggested, "Mr. Lancaster, should we… perhaps choose another item Mrs. Lancaster likes? There are quite a few good paintings at today's auction."
Kian nodded, his gaze shifting coolly to Elena. "What else do you like?"
Elena's stiff, dry eyes turned mechanically and settled on his face. He was still strikingly handsome, his features dazzling—but those deep eyes were so unfamiliar they sent a chill through her heart.
Her throat was painfully dry. Her voice came out hoarse and tuneless. "I only wanted that painting."
She took a deep breath, forced back the scalding tears, straightened her spine, and looked directly at him. Word by word, she summoned all her courage. "Kian Lancaster, I'm your wife. What you bid on is marital property. I have every right to claim it."
Elena had always been gentle and obedient in front of Kian. She'd never shown this sharp, unyielding side. She wasn't good at arguing, didn't know how to be aggressive—so her words came out light and carried no real threat.
Kian pressed his fingertips to the bridge of his nose. "Elena, you didn't used to be this unreasonable."
"It's just a painting. Your teacher has a private gallery in the city. If you like his work, I'll have someone speak to the curator. You can pick any one you want."
Elena opened her mouth. The words piled up in her throat.
She wanted to tell him it wasn't the same. This painting had been created especially for her by her teacher. It was her most precious memory from her youth. If she hadn't abandoned her studies and broken her teacher's heart back then, this painting would never have ended up at auction.
But the words turned bitter on her tongue. She lowered her eyes and swallowed all her grievances back down.
Then Chloe's soft, delighted voice interjected again. "Kian, I just love this painting. You're so good to me."
"I'm glad you like it."
Elena half-closed her eyes. A faint, dull ache suddenly bloomed in her abdomen. She bit her pale lips, her hand instinctively moving to rest on her belly.
Was the baby sensing her sadness? Was that the connection between mother and child?
She slowly exhaled, her chest swelling with sourness, and silently apologized to the child inside her.
I'm sorry, baby. Your father doesn't love your mother. And he won't love you either.
In that moment, the last thread of hope in her heart crumbled to ash.
She would never tell Kian about this pregnancy. Not in this lifetime.
Elena didn't look at Kian and Chloe enjoying their conversation. She didn't glance back at the painting that had broken her heart. She just kept her head down, lightened her footsteps as much as possible, and slipped silently out of the noisy ballroom.
The evening breeze carried a hint of coolness that finally eased the suffocating feeling a little.
She stood by the curb and flagged down a car.
The driver leaned out. "Where to, miss?"
"To…" She was about to give the villa's address when restlessness and grievance surged up from the pit of her stomach.
She didn't want to go back. She didn't want to face that empty house.
Elena pressed her lips tightly together, her throat dry. She changed her answer. "Memorial Art Museum."
