Chapter 424:
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Beneath her traditional dress, bruises from yesterdayâs beating ached, a secret she hid well. The dress was supposed to impress Keanu, but now it felt more like armor â a mask to hide her shame.
She despised Allison. She hated her with all her body and soul. No matter what she did, Allison always seemed one step ahead, leaving her trapped in her shadow.
âIâm curious, Allison â do you really think your skills surpass Mr. Sugdenâs? Are you so confident you can find his mistakes?â
The challenge was as sharp as broken glass, designed to cut deep.
Louis, not one to be left out, chimed in with a mocking grin. âExactly. We can restore sixty percent of the painting. So, Ms. Clarke, what can you do? Seventy? Maybe eighty?â
Each word was a jab meant to belittle her, but Allison didnât flinch. Not even an inch. Her eyes remained steady, calm, and focused. âAt least ninety-five percent.â
Bang!
Louisâs fist came down hard on the table, rattling the objects on top.
His laugh was sharp, disbelieving, as if the absurdity of her claim had shattered something inside him. âWhat did you just say? Ninety-five?! Now thatâs rich! You must be delusional to boast like that. Know your limits, girl.â
Louis couldnât shake the growing certainty that the woman standing before him was lying through her teeth.
âI once watched Mr. FrameMaker restore a painting just like this one,â Louis declared, the memory vivid in his mind. âHe worked tirelessly for seven days and nights. Even then, he only managed to restore about ninety percent of it.â
His words were laced with a clear implication â how could Allison, this seemingly ordinary woman, possibly outdo one of the most renowned restorers in the world? But Allison didnât flinch. Instead, she met his stare with a cool, unwavering gaze. âSo?â she asked, her tone sharp as a scalpel. âCanât you do it?â
Her question landed like a slap, and Louis felt his face burn with embarrassment. Of course, he couldnât do it.
If he had the kind of talent FrameMaker did, he wouldnât be standing here, stuck in his current position.
But admitting that? Out loud? No chance.
âWell, FrameMaker is one of the best,â he hedged, his voice losing some of its earlier bravado. âIâm no FrameMaker, thatâs for sure.â
Allisonâs lips curved into the faintest of smiles. She could see right through him. The man had more pride than skill.
âYour technique is sloppy,â she said, matter-of-factly. âYouâre barely scraping by with what little you know. Keep at it, and youâll ruin this painting beyond repair.â
Her words hit like cold truth, and Keanu, who had been silently watching, felt a knot tighten in his chest.
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.
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