At that moment, seeing that Barclay and Adelaide had drawn clear boundaries, someone thrust a paintbrush into Barclay's hand along with a half-full can of paint.

In a natural tone, they said, "Barclay, let's not dwell on the past. You're here now, so might as well help us paint. Us girls aren't exactly pros at this, and we're opening in three days. I figured we'd keep it simple and do the decorating ourselves."

Barclay, whose worldview was predominantly cynical, found himself holding a paint can, barely able to wrap his head around the situation. He was the eldest son of the prestigious Clark family and had never done anything like this before.

The next thing he knew, Morwenna was tying an apron around his neck and then placing a cap over his carefully styled hair. Just like that, a new painter was born.

to just stand there. Resigned, he began painting. To his surprise, he found the task strangely therapeutic. Barclay threw himself into the work. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ

her of rape-a charge that, when levied against a woman, sounded almost laughable. Her incarceration was largely due to Stuart's significant influence.

the guard announced. She knew it had to be her parents, coming to figure out her release. She still held value to the Gallagher family, with a good amount of money at her disposal and connections with the sons of prominent families. Now, with

her mother, which surprised her. Given the gravity of the situation, she expected her father to be there too. Violet, hearing footsteps, looked

quickly regained her composure. "Mom, don't look at me like that. I didn't want this to happen. It was your constant nagging about securing Stuart

spat out her words with seething anger, "Adelaide! You still want to get out? Why don't you just drop

saying? How can you say

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