Chapter 4

"Call the police!"

The manager screamed, frantically pulling out his phone.

"This is Atalanta's absolute masterpiece! The crown jewel of our exhibition! You are going to prison for this!"

Hudson watched the chaos unfold, a cold, satisfied smirk touching his lips.

"Is this what you wanted, Michelle? Ruining a masterpiece just to get back at me?"

He slowly walked up to the ruined canvas, staring at the ugly red stain, and shook his head.

"Too bad your little plan backfired. I'm buying this painting."

He turned to the trembling manager.

"Name your price. Ruined or not, I'm taking it."

He cast one last, sweeping look of pure disgust at me. "As for her, throw her out. I don't ever want to see her face again."

The crowd erupted into murmurs of admiration.

"Mr. Harrington is incredibly generous! Buying a ruined multi-million-dollar painting just like that!"

"That cleaner got ridiculously lucky. If Mr. Harrington doesn't press charges, she won't have to rot in prison."

Vivian clung to Hudson's arm, letting out a relieved sigh.

"Oh, Hudson. You're so good to me. I knew you wouldn't let anything happen to me."

She looked at me over her shoulder, her eyes screaming: See? Even if I burn this place to the ground, Hudson will clean up my mess.

And you? You're just a stray dog waiting for our scraps.

The manager looked like he had just been handed a lifeline. He bowed repeatedly.

"Mr. Harrington, you are a saint! Since the painting is... well, damaged, how about we settle for fifty percent of the starting bid...?"

"No."

I stood up, my voice cutting through the noise like a knife.

Once again, all eyes locked onto me.

"This painting is not for sale."

Hudson's expression hardened instantly.

"Michelle, what right do you have to say no? Who do you think you are?"

I looked him dead in the eye, my voice steady. "I said, this. Painting. Is. Not. For. Sale."

"Ha!" Vivian laughed hysterically.

"Michelle, have you completely lost your mind? You're a literal janitor. What makes you think you have any say in what this gallery sells?"

She turned to the manager, her voice sharp. "Manager, why are you still standing there?"

"Mr. Harrington is doing your gallery a massive favor by buying this garbage! Kick this crazy woman out!"

The manager snapped out of his shock and quickly waved over two burly security guards.

"Drag her out! Now!"

The guards stepped forward, reaching for my shoulders.

I watched them approach, my heart turning cold.

Five years ago, Hudson's family security had dragged me out of their mansion just like this.

Five years later, they wanted history to repeat itself.

Just as their hands were about to touch me, a calm, authoritative voice echoed from the back of the crowd.

"Don't touch her."