Chapter 120

Lorna replied indifferently. “What’s it to you, anyway?”

Fanny chuckled, “What do you mean what’s it to me? Have you forgotten who I am? I’m the chairwoman of the Greenmeadow Art Association. You want to sell your paintings, you’ve got to go through me.”

The Greenmeadow Art Association was a community organization, but in Greenmeadow, all the painters and artists would show Fanny some respect.

Lorna got the message in an instant, “Are you behind this?” she asked.

Fanny’s voice turned icy. “So what if I am? Yesterday, you played your little game, made Calvert block my daughter on social media, now don’t blame me for not playing nice with you.”

Lorna’s fingers clenched.

Her paintings had been up for sale for a long time without a buyer. Considering Calvert’s incident happened just yesterday, it was clear Fanny had been targeting her for a while.

What grudge could last eighteen years?

Fanny sneered again, “I didn’t do much, really. But you, thinking you’re some kind of top artist? One painting and you expect to rock the watercolor world? Honey, you haven’t touched a brush in eighteen years. Have you even seen the mess you’ve been painting?”

Truth be told, Lorna felt a bit shaky. She felt her recent works were on par with those from eighteen years ago, perhaps even more mature, but that was just her opinion. She didn’t know what the world thought of her art.

Fanny’s words shattered her regained confidence, and her fork dropped onto the plate with a clatter.

She took a deep breath, asking, “Is there anything else?”

Fanny scoffed, Seriously, in our field, who’s to say who’s a superstar and who’s a dud? It all comes down to who gets the big desk. Cross me, and you’ll get nowhere in Greenmeadow. I’ll enjoy watching you fall!”

Lorna, trembling with anger, didn’t wait for another word and hung up.

Tears welled up, catching the attention of Sanderson, who inquired, “What’s wrong?”

Lorna glanced at him and shook her head, “It’s nothing.”

artist’s reputation was often hyped up. The Delaney family had

that.

for Sanderson to pay her way, and besides, even though they had recovered that fifty million, Sanderson had reinvested it into the business, putting a strain on their finances for the past couple of

barrier between the art world and the business world; other than throwing money to promote someone, there wasn’t much else he

reticence, Sanderson sighed,

had arrived. Her grandfather, battling with mental issues and mobility problems, lived with her grandmother in a room downstairs, which

eyes lit up as she

her, “Miss me,

Cordelia hesitated, “…Yeah.”

Chapter 120

me you missed, or my collection

“…Both.”

me or

her like she was

said, “Alright, alright, no more jokes. Let’s see

her

the elders moving in, so they had installed a spacious suite on the ground floor, with an adjoining study and living room

books were yet to be

Cordelia a rare, out–of–print edition of “Elemental Chemistry,”

took the book, her grandfather, Lacy Wilson, also

quiet, sometimes mute and

at Cordelia closely, then smiled and said, “Lorna, dear!”

with resignation, “He’s confused again.”

to the sofa, but he gestured for silence, “Lorna, come

a while before handing her a magazine, “Look at

saw it was a

“This could be worth a fortune in patent

he got sick, he’s been like this. Take it, otherwise, he’ll bother you

arrived

looked over, confused, and to her surprise, she saw a familiar figure following Sanderson into the

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