Chapter 1

The gallery my husband and I ran survived solely on my paintings.

I had always created my art anonymously. No one knew that the mysterious artist behind those viral masterpieces was actually me.

Until Arthur Sterling, the billionaire patriarch of Seattle's elite Sterling family, fell in love with my work and offered a fortune to have me reveal my identity at a solo exhibition.

But on the day of the exhibition, my husband held me back and let Chloe, our gallery intern, take the stage to steal my identity.

Instead of getting angry, I smiled. Chloe was nothing but a copycat who only knew how to trace master studies. She didn’t have a single drop of original talent or style.

I shrugged at the two of them, completely unfazed.

"Fine. Let's see if you two actually have what it takes to handle this crazy stroke of fortune."

Arthur Sterling loved collecting art. Whether it was historic masterpieces, famous contemporary works, or wild, imaginative pieces by young artists, he appreciated them all.

Recently, the internet had been buzzing with rumors that the elder Sterling was offering a massive reward to find an anonymous painter.

I didn't even know about it until my husband, Julian, ran up to me with his phone, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Clara, look! The painting Arthur Sterling posted on his social media—isn't that your 'Whispers of Autumn' from a few years ago?"

I glanced at the screen. It was indeed one of my old pieces.

Julian and I had been married for five years. We ran an art gallery together, but business had been terrible lately. My anonymous paintings were the only things keeping us afloat.

I had produced a lot of work over the years, always staying behind the scenes. Nobody knew I was the mind behind the brush.

As my pieces gained popularity, more and more people became curious about my real identity.

"Babe, our gallery has been struggling so much, and our bills are piling up. This is our golden ticket!"

Julian kept urging me to go public. To be honest, I had thought about doing a face reveal and hosting my own solo exhibition. It was a lifelong dream of mine.

I wasn’t trying to be aloof or pretentious. I had only chosen anonymity in the beginning because I didn't want the spotlight.

It didn't take long for Arthur Sterling to trace the painting back to our gallery. He immediately invested a massive sum of money to fund my solo exhibition.

I was deeply touched and knew how rare of an opportunity this was.

After some discussion, my grand debut exhibition was scheduled for next Saturday.

I prepared anxiously, pulling all-nighters for a week to create several new pieces as a special gift for my fans.

The night before the exhibition, Julian didn't come home until very late. Right before I went to sleep, I got a call from him.

"Clara, Arthur isn't feeling well. They’ve postponed the exhibition by a day. You should take this chance to get some good rest!"

I didn't doubt him. Arthur was elderly and the sole investor of the show, so a short delay seemed perfectly reasonable.

But by noon the next day, Julian still hadn't come home. A nagging sense of anxiety settled deep in my chest.

I decided to drive down to the gallery, only to find the street outside completely blocked by crowds.

There were members of the Sterling family, news reporters, magazine journalists, and countless fans.

It was bizarre. I was the artist, and I hadn't even arrived, so why was everyone already here?

I pushed through the crowd to look at the center stage. There stood Chloe, our fake-innocent gallery intern, wearing a chic Chanel-style tweed dress. She was chatting and laughing with Arthur Sterling, her face glowing with triumph.

For a second, my mind went completely blank. But then, reality set in.

Just as I was about to walk toward the stage, Julian materialized out of nowhere, grabbed my arm, and dragged me out of the crowd.

"Clara, what are you doing here? I thought I told you—"

Julian's face was a mask of panic and embarrassment, his eyes darting around guiltily.

"Am I not supposed to be here? But looking at this, it seems I really chose the wrong time to show up!"

I crossed my arms, waiting for a logical explanation.

"Clara, you've always hated the spotlight, right? There are so many people here today, you would've been so uncomfortable. I just had Chloe stand in for you."

"Besides, you already have me. You don't need all this fame. Chloe is still young and needs this kind of break. In the end, it’s all for our gallery anyway."

It was laughable. Julian was so desperate to push his little side-chick into my spotlight that he didn't even care how ridiculous he sounded.

"Is that so? So that's your excuse for identity theft? This is fraud, Julian. Do you have any idea how many people you're scamming?"

Julian frowned at me, looking annoyed as if I was the one throwing a childish tantrum.

"Why do you have to put it so harshly? Chloe is doing you a favor! You always bragged about wanting a quiet life, right? Now you get to stay behind the scenes, so what are you mad about?"

"You're just a housewife now. Just help me run the gallery. Why do you need to show off? Leave the spotlight to the younger generation!"

"Chloe is young, beautiful, and fits the exact image the public wants. A young, gorgeous prodigy makes for a much better story."

Hearing my husband of five years say these words sent a cold shiver down my spine.

But it didn't matter anymore. I was completely done with him.

"Sure. Let's see how she plans to keep up the act."