Love or Die CEO’s Daily Dose of Swoon

Chapter 144

The Art Collective was a haven for painters of every stripe and its influence in the art world was profound. Its power was not to be underestimated.

That’s why when Fanny spoke, it was with a force that could crush opposition with ease.

The other members turned their gazes toward Lorna. Among the crowd were fresh–faced graduates, with academic zeal, and those seasoned by years in the art scene, but mostly, they exuded goodwill.

dewy

Only one man, a somewhat known artist who went by the pen nTeagan, lifted his chin with a sneer, “Fanny’s been bustling about here, and you, a painter who’s cinto fovernight, think you’re more precious than her?”

Cordelia’s brow furrowed at his harsh words. As she was about to retort, Lorna stopped her and replied, “Let it be. We’re all colleagues here, and we’ll need to learn from each other in the future. Helping out is no problem.”

Lorna’s generosity stood in stark contrast to Fanny’s and Teagan’s aggressive demeanor.

Cordelia paused, shooting Lorna a puzzled look but remained silent, following in her wake.

Fanny led the way into a nearby meeting room, with Lorna at her side. As soon as they entered, Fanny began distributing the day’s tasks.

The exhibition was a showcase of Superiority Country culture for international guests and would run for several days. With so much to do, Fanny delegated tasks, and one by one, the members went off to work.

Finally, Fanny turned to Lorna, pointing to a box beside her, “Lorna, take this box to Room 103. There’s a sink there, clean those frames inside so they’re spotless for the display.”

It was the most grueling job–physically taxing and dirty.

Lorna’s eyebrows knitted together in frustration. She was well into her forties, and there were younger members with more energy, yet she was singled out, a clear act of targeting.

When Fanny noticed Lorna’s hesitation, she smiled thinly, “I’m the president. Everyone follows my orders. What’s wrong, you don’t want to do it? Or are you looking down upon our humble Greenmeadow Art Collective now?”

Lorna took a deep breath, visibly upset, but she held back, “Fine, I’ll do it.”

She attempted to lift the heavy box and found, to her dismay, that she couldn’t.

“It’s heavy, isn’t it?” Fanny said with a smirk. “Take care with it; those paintings are delicate.”

She leaned forward in her chair, her expression growing menacing. “Lorna, you always scoffed at the race for recognition and reward. Well, now I’ll show you the importance of being president of the Collective. B. Aster may have praised you, and you may have had your moment of fame, but here in Greenmeadow, as long as I’m president, I can suppress you as I see fit. B. Aster has left, here, my word is law, and no one will help you!”

Lorna turned to look at her, a deep gaze that said more than words.

Fanny’s face twisted with malice, “Get to work, so you can report back when you’re done.”

As Lorna bent down to try lifting the box again, Cordelia stepped beside her and effortlessly hoisted it up, “Mom, I’ll help you.”

Seeing how easily Cordelia managed, Lorna didn’t stop her. They left Fanny’s office and made their way to Room 103 Inside, Cordelia set the box down, and Lorna asked, “Lia, are you tired?”

Cordelia shook her head, the weight was nothing to her, but she wondered, “What’s next?”

Lorna sighed, “Nothing much. These paintings were cleaned before they were sent over. She’s just making an excuse to givea hard time.”

Chupler 144

Chapter 144

The Art Collective was a haven for painters of every stripe and its influence in the art world was profound. Its power was not to be underestimated.

That’s why when Fanny spoke, it was with a force that could crush opposition with ease.

The other members turned their gazes toward Lorna. Among the crowd were fresh–faced graduates, still dewy with academic zeal, and those seasoned by years in the art scene, but mostly, they exuded goodwill.

Only one man, a somewhat known artist who went by the pen nTeagan, lifted his chin with a sneer. “Fanny’s been bustling about here, and you, a painter who’s cinto fovernight, think you’re more precious than her?”

Cordelia’s brow furrowed at his harsh words. As she was about to retort, Lorna stopped her and replied, “Let it be. We’re all colleagues here, and we’ll need to learn from each other in the future. Helping out is no problem.”

Lorna’s generosity stood in stark contrast to Fanny’s and Teagan’s aggressive demeanor.

Cordelia paused, shooting Lorna a puzzled look but remained silent, following in her wake.

Fanny led the way into a nearby meeting room, with Lorna at her side. As soon as they entered, Fanny began. distributing the day’s tasks.

The exhibition was a showcase of Superiority Country culture for international guests and would run for several days. With so much to do, Fanny delegated tasks, and one by one, the members went off to work.

Finally, Fanny turned to Lomna, pointing to a box beside her, “Lorna, take this box to Room 103. There’s a sink there; clean those frames inside so they’re spotless for the display.”

It was the most grueling job–physically taxing and dirty.

Lorna’s eyebrows knitted together in frustration. She was well into her forties, and there were younger members with more energy, yet she was singled out, a clear act of targeting.

When Fanny noticed Lorna’s hesitation, she smiled thinly, “I’m the president. Everyone follows my orders. What’s wrong, you don’t want to do it? Or are you looking down upon our humble Greenmeadow Art Collective now?”

Lorna took a deep breath, visibly upset, but she held back, “Fine, I’ll do it.”

She attempted to lift the heavy box and found, to her dismay, that she couldn’t.

“It’s heavy, isn’t it?” Fanny said with a smirk. “Take care with it; those paintings are delicate.”

She leaned forward in her chair, her expression growing menacing, “Lorna, you always scoffed at the race for recognition and reward. Well, now I’ll show you the importance of being president of the Collective. B. Aster may have praised you, and you may have had your moment of fame, but here in

Greenmeadow, as long as I’m president, I can suppress you as I see fit. B. Aster has left; here, my word is law, and no one will help you!”

Lorna turned to look at her, a deep gaze that said more than words.

Fanny’s face twisted with malice, “Get to work, so you can report back when you’re done.”

As Lorna bent down to try lifting the box again, Cordelia stepped beside her and effortlessly hoisted it up, “Mom, I’ll help you.”

Seeing how easily Cordelia managed, Lorna didn’t stop her. They left Fanny’s office and made their way to Room 103. Inside, Cordelia set the box down, and Lorna asked, “Lia, are you tired?”

Cordelia shook her head, the weight was nothing to her, but she wondered, “What’s next?”

Lorna sighed, “Nothing much. These paintings were cleaned before they were sent over. She’s just making an excuse to givea hard time.”

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Chapter 144

As they opened the box to take the paintings out, they planned to rotate them during the several days of the exhibition.

After removing a few frames, Lorna suddenly gasped, “Oh no…!”

Cordelia hurried to look and saw a long tear marring the painting Lorna held–a clean slash right through the middle.

Lorna steadied herself, laying the painting on the table. Cordelia frowned deeply at the sight.

It was an ancient and precious painting drawn by an artist who had passed away.

Lorna inspected the painting closely, then relaxed, “It’s a reproduction.”

Cordelia blinked, “Reproductions in the exhibition?”

Lorna pointed to the signature. “The original is in the Ontoky Museum, untouchable. But they wanted to share its beauty internationally, so high–quality reproductions like this are made, always clearly marked. This one i very lifelike.”

As they spoke, the door burst open. Fanny stormed in with Teagan in tow. Upon seeing the painting, she exclaimed, “Lorna, what have you done?”

Her shout drew the Collective’s members into the room, all asking, “What happened?”

When they saw the ruined “Thousand Mile River“, they were stunned, “How could this happen?”

is

“This reproduction is a masterpiece! It could sell for millions! How could it get damaged? This is so careless!”

“The main thing is, we were supposed to display this tomorrow. What do we do now?”

As they all fretted, the discussion didn’t go the way Fanny had hoped. She shot Teagan a look, and he quickly steered the conversation, “Lorna, what’s the meaning of this? I know you resent Fanny, but you can’t take it out on the painting!”

With that, all eyes turned to Lorna.

She frowned and defended herself, “It wasn’t me. When I took out this painting, it was already damaged!”

“How could that be?” Fanny gasped in feigned surprise. “We all checked these paintings together when they arrived this morning. There was no issue!”

Her gaze sharpened on Lorna, “And since they were boxed up this morning, you’re the only one who’s touched them. I know you hate me, Lorna, but how could you do such a thing? You’re responsible for this!”

Lorna’s voice quivered with concern. “What are you going to do?”

Fanny spoke up with an air of finality. “You’re going to compensate for the value of that painting–around five million–and return it to its rightful owner. But that’s the least of your worries. You’ve delayed tomorrow’s exhibition, and that’s a major issue!”

Teagan chimed in, her voice laced with disappointment, “We’ve already announced that a replica of this painting would be unveiled at tomorrow’s show, and now it’s gone. This will bring shupon the entire Greenmeadow Art Association! Miss, Fanny, her actions are inexcusable! Someone like her, no matter how skilled at painting, lacks integrity. In my opinion, such a person doesn’t deserve to paint. We, as a community of artists, should stand together and boycott her, make her put down her brushes forever!”

Put down her brushes… Lorna clenched her fists, realizing this was Fanny’s true intention.

Fanny curled her lips into a smirk, poised to make Lorna an outcast in the art world.

But just then-