NovelEnglishAfter that, Jack was thrown in prison because of his wrongdoings. He didn't even bother paying Grandma a visit when she passed away.
It was impossible for bastards like him to not prepare a backup plan for himself.
Mr. Johnson heard what I said and surprise fleeted in his eyes. Then, a meaningful smile appeared on his face. He stood up slowly and walked to the window. As he looked out at the beautiful scenery, it seemed like he was trying to find the right words to say what he was about to say next.
A moment later, he turned around and looked atagain. His tone was solemn and weighted.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt"You've mentioned about assets, Ms. Wiley. This isn't something that could be clearly explained in just a few words. Just like what you said, he is a complicated man, and his actions had multiple reasons behind them." He walked over to a drawing on the wall and caressed its mantle gently.
"This drawing was his gift towhile we were collaborating. It's not just a piece of art, but also a witness of our partnership. The assets you asked about are like the story behind these drawings. Complex, intricate, and hard to explain in a few words." A mix of emotions arose in my heart as I listened to Mr. Johnson. I knew he didn't answer my question directly.
As I was having my doubts, I realized there was something wrong with the drawing.
This was no handcrafted masterpiece. This was a reproduced piece.
"I'm assuming that you guys once organized an art gallery, right?" I asked cautiously as I fixed my gaze on Mr. Johnson's face, trying to capture every little change in expression on his face.
Mr. Johnson was slightly taken aback. Shock flashed quickly in his eyes "This art gallery should be your way of earning money. You guys would purposefully look for artists to reproduce drawings and sell these pieces for profit." They were equally as disgusting. They would be sure not to give up that easily.
However, Mr. Johnson must have something major to do with the disappearance of this art gallery, and how I was not familiar with the gallery at all. He must know something.
His expression becreally complicated as he looked at me. He seemed to be evaluating if I had triggered the outline of a certain truth he didn't want to bring up.
He sauntered slowly back to the couch and after sitting down, he crossed his hands on his knees and spoke softly after a long pause.
"Your observation is impressive, Ms. Wiley, but please allowto correct you. The existence of the art gallery isn't just simply to earn money." I frowned. His words caughtby surprise, yet had confused me.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm"Where is it right now? Why had it suddenly disappeared? If it's not just to earn money, what else was it for? To appreciate art?" A series of questions escaped my mouth. Each of these questions had answers that I desperately wanted to know.
Mr. Johnson sighed, his gaze seemed to pierce through the walls.
I knew he wouldn't expose the truth so easily, but no matter what the truth was, he couldn't hide it any longer. No matter what he said, I would have to dig deeper for the truth.
Pet
"I understand your anxiousness, Ms.
Wiley, but the truth is far more complex than what is seen on the surface level. Mr.
Mr. Johnson's voice was deep and suave. He lifted his hand gently, gesturing forto calm down.
"This art gallery was indeed a business project, but what it carried was not just something as simple as ve money. N was an embodiment of your father's and my insistence in pursuing art, and at the stime, was a smokescreen for what called grey areas in our time." we
I didn't expect him to tell the truth, but I was clear that this smokescreen that they claimed to be was just another way for them to gain wealth as well.
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