The Wrong Woman

Chapter 44

Suzanne could only look at Nathan helplessly. Confusion and uneasiness filled her beautiful eyes.

Nathan felt as though his heart had melted into a puddle. Never did he realize that Suzanne’s helpless and vulnerable gaze would leave such a huge impact on him.

He walked over to Suzanne and leaned in to murmur into her ear.”

Suzanne, all the guests here are our friends and family. To tell you the truth, no one cares about the authenticity of famous paintings or your skill level.

“This is just an event that’s thrown in to please Grandma. It’s fine as long as you show her how much you care for her. Everything else doesn’t matter, so you don’t have to care about it. Just paint whatever

you want.”

Nathan’s words reassured Suzanne greatly.

He continued, “Do you know how to imitate paintings?”

Suzanne replied, albeit in an uncertain manner, “Yeah, I guess. It’s easy to imitate other paintings.”

Nathan said reassuringly, “Then, you can imitate one of Inkwell’s paintings. The painting before us is an imitation, anyway.”

Suzanne knew that she had to do it no matter what. Left without a choice, she picked up a paintbrush and dipped it in the ink pot.

Her other hand slowly glided across the paper, moving to and fro three times in a row. She caressed the paper gently and carefully.

At that moment, someone piped up, “She even imitated Inkwell’s habit during the preparation stage. It seems that she’s planning on

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imitating Inkwell’s artwork.”

every move intently. There were people who looked forward to seeing a wonderful performance. Others giddily waited for

course, there were some guests who weren’t interested in the performance at all. They continued mingling

piano music continued interweaving with the ambiance in the banquet hall.

at “An Ole to Fall”. Then, she put her paintbrush on paper

moment she painted her first stroke, those who had experience in painting were instantly astonished by her technique. They could tell that

She knew exactly where to paint, so her brush

the painting. It was as though she had developed

need to think about the force needed in every stroke n length and width of the strokes she should paint.

gradually immersed herself in the process, leading to her

shocked by the emergence of a masterpiece. Some of them even rubbed their eyes

people even found Suzanne’s performance

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into Inkwell’s account on a streaming platform she frequented. Then, they played some of her videos

trance. She had no idea that everyone around her was starting to talk

stood at the side silently, his gaze fixed on

more dazzling when she was focused

on painting.

who laid their eyes on her could never avert their gazes, for she was too beautiful and eye- catching.

surprise, “Holy shit! She’s Inkwell!”

well! No one can fully replicate every detail of this masterpiece

have a small

habits and their painting styles are

no longer

I’d be able to meet Inkwell in person. What’s more shocking is the