Fell for the Alpha-less Queen

Chapter 63

Love the Wolfless Power Girl at First Sight

Chapter 63 I Will Take Everything

At that moment, the private room's door swung open.

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A man in a designer suit stepped inside, carrying an oak box. The gold-embossed

"MOMA" logo on the lid gleamed under the light.

"Is Ms. Sinclair here?"

"Here."

Tessa rose to her feet as the man placed the box in front of her.

She carefully lifted the lid, revealing a painting encased in a bulletproof glass frame.

"Grandpa, I know how much you adore Jackson Pollocks work, so I acquired this- Number Five.' I hope you'll like it."

Walter's obsession with Pollock was undeniable, bordering on reverence.

His lips curled into a delighted smile as he adjusted his gold-rimmed monocle, his gaze fixed intently on the artwork.

glow, the thick oil paint almost fluid in appearance. Walter's

it. But this is worth far more than the shares I

were nearly impossible to acquire, even for

try to fool us with a forgery.

said it's a fake?" The suited man produced a carbon-14 authentication certificate from the museum. "Ms. Sinclair won it at auction six months

swirls of paint instantly reflected off the crystal chandelier, casting an enchanting glow. "You always said this

painting had been no easy feat, but if it

this idea is real?" Winona asked, skepticism lacing her tone. She knew little about art, but she refused

Walter had spent decades studying Pollock's work. There was no mistaking the

once dismissed as a nobody from Falindale, had suddenly demonstrated astonishing wealth

escorted Walter home before departing from the Sinclair

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631 Will

"Tessa, stop right there."

She paused mid-step.

Winona stormed toward her.

that painting? It's a fake, isn't it? How dare

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unshaken composure. "Everything I own is authentic. I have

she writes off anything

right?" Winona sneered. "Tessa, how pathetic! You're selling yourself for material things. He's just playing with you. Once he gets bored, he'll toss you aside. Do you really think any decent man

to admit the unease creeping into her heart. It was just a painting, one the Sinclair

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