Chapter 26
It was Truman who had just texted her, alerting her that Sandra had spat in the coffee.
Truman leaned casually against the door, folding his feet and arms absentmindedly, and asked, “How did you guess it was me who sent you the message?”
Ash smirked and replied, “By thinking about it here.”
She pointed to her head.
“So, if I hadn’t warned you, would you have drunk that coffee?” Truman inquired once more.
Ash raised her eyebrows and said playfully, “I don’t drink coffee.”
She offered a half–truth with a mischievous air that made it hard to tell.
Despite Truman’s staggering IQ of 280, he struggled to read Ash’s mind.
He always sensed that Ash was profound and enigmatic.
It’s no fun not telling the truth,” Truman stood up straight with a somewhat disinterested air before leaving without further talking.
Late at night, Wesley returned from a dinner party.
During dinner time, Chelsea had persistently called him to come back.
Upon entering the castle, a maid approached respectfully to take the suit jacket he had removed.
“Mr. Wesley, Miss Sandra has had a difficult time. Mrs. Chelsea asks you to go to her room…”
Hearing what the maid said, Wesley frowned.
“Send this painting to Mr. Ash.”
After giving the order nonchalantly, he put his hands in his pockets and strode towards Chelsea’s room.
He knocked on the door, and a maid opened it for him.
Entering the room, Wesley found Chelsea sulking, leaning against the couch near the window.
With a faint hint of indifference, he asked, “Chelsea, you wanted to see me?”
Chelsea’s grief surged, and she burst into tears at once.
‘Do you know how Ash bullies Sandra? He made Sandra drink coffee with spit in it! It’s a disgrace! When has Sandra ever suffered like this?”
“I heard Truman say that Sandra spat first, so it’s no wonder Ash returned the favor.”
Wesley played down the situation with a nonchalant expression, not even bothering to frown.
Feeling even more aggrieved, Chelsea pranced over and walked up to Wesley. She pulled his arm and said, “Wesley, if you’re not willing to seek justice for me and my daughter, then this family truly has no place for us.”
After speaking, she lowered her head as tears poured down her cheeks.
“Chelsea, I know that you and Thea have always been at odds. Nineteen years ago, you stirred things up and let Grandpa drive Thea away. I was too young to do anything back then, but things have changed. Ash is the only bloodline Thea has left in this world. If you dare to harm him, I will show no mercy!”
Wesley’s face lost all traces of tolerance, and he shook Chelsea’s hand off, turning coldly without showing mercy.
On the second floor.
Ash leaned back against the pillows, settling into the bed to attend to her affairs.
Despite being part of the Feron family, she still had to make important decisions for Allico Group.
With her tasks nearly completed, she closed her computer and was about to sleep when a knock on the door sounded.
“Who is it?”
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3:07 PM D
Chapter 26
“Mr. Ash, it’s me.”
Ash slipped on her slippers and put on a loose jacket before walking to the door.
A pleasant–faced servant stood there, holding a long, thin box, which Ash could easily guess contained a painting.
“This is what Mr. Wesley ordered to be sent to you.”
“Sent to me?”
Ash was a bit confused as she took the box.
After closing the door, she placed the box on her desk and opened it, only to be stunned.
Wasn’t this the painting Quinton had given her?
She had instructed Vera to sell it and donate the proceeds to the orphanage as charity.
How did this painting, for no reason at all, come back?
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