CHAPTER 2: Picking Up the Brush Again

He paced angrily around the house, then grabbed the nanny's phone and called Eleanor.

The call connected. Eleanor asked, "Mary, what is it?"

"Get your butt back here! Your son has a fever!"

The earpiece was silent for two seconds before Eleanor replied, "Give him fever reducers first, wipe him down with warm water, and keep him out of drafts. Make an ice pack for his forehead to bring down the temperature. Take him to the hospital for an IV drip tomorrow."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Sebastian snapped. "You're his mother! That's your job!"

"Then you should relay that to Claudia."

"You..."

"Don't call me about this kind of thing again. I am no longer his mother."

"Eleanor, you... hello..."

The phone was hung up.

When he tried calling again, it was turned off.

Sebastian gritted his teeth. "Eleanor... how dare you hang up on me! I'll see how long you can keep up this high and mighty act."

The next day, Eleanor finished arranging her daughter's funeral and took a taxi back to the suburban villa she had once purchased as a painting studio.

She had been hailed as a prodigious talent in the art world right after graduation.

Her first painting had sold for an astronomical price!

Then, amidst widespread astonishment and regret, she married and had children.

After marriage, she wanted to continue painting. But Sebastian complained that the smell of oil paint on her was too strong, making him feel sick.

From then on, she put down her brushes and focused her life entirely on the family.

Six years of neglect had left the villa overgrown with weeds and covered in dust.

She paused in the yard. A gust of wind carried a crabapple blossom petal from outside the wall onto her shoulder.

Eleanor turned her head, choked up. "Ivy, is that you?"

She cupped the flower in her hands, her lips trembling.

A tidal wave of sorrow crashed over her. Eleanor couldn't bear it and crouched down, crying until she was nearly faint.

It wasn't until nightfall that she finally composed herself and stood up.

She wanted Ivy to see her living life fully.

Eleanor dug out her art supplies, which had been collecting dust for years, and set up an easel in the empty living room.

By the time she put down her brush, the candle had burned down.

On the canvas, a little girl in a floral dress raised her arms, leaping above the sea toward the rising sun.

Eleanor took a moment to ease the heartache before taking a photo and sending it to the gallery she had previously worked with.

Less than a minute later, her phone rang.

On the other end, Daphne shrieked, "My God, you've finally come out of retirement!"

"This painting is full of meaning and soul. How much are you planning to charge for it?"

Eleanor said, "Five million."

"Oh?" Daphne replied. "How about this: the day after tomorrow at ten, there's an auction at the gallery. I’ll save you a spot."

"Good. It's a deal."

Eleanor spent two days finalizing Ivy's affairs. After a quick cleanup of the villa, she finally got her first night of sleep in three days.

The auction arrived as scheduled.

Eleanor arrived at the gallery early as planned.

The auction was still far from starting when she handed the painting to the gallery manager.

Eleanor looked around and casually wandered over to a painting.

Against a dark blue, oppressive background, a white cocoon stood out starkly in the center. A half-formed wing struggled out of a crack in the cocoon, seemingly fighting to escape its 'prison,' ready to emerge.

Breaking the Cocoon to Become a Butterfly.

Eleanor stared at the painting for a long time, unaware that people had gathered behind her.

This was one of her works from her school days. After marriage, it was kept in the storage room at home. Claudia had stolen it, signed her own name, won a major competition with it, and it was then acquired by the Ruixin Gallery.

When the deception was exposed, Sebastian, to protect Claudia’s reputation, threatened Eleanor with divorce if she ever mentioned it to anyone.

She stepped forward, pulled out a hairpin, and used the sharp end to slash the canvas diagonally from the top of the frame to the bottom.

"Slicing sound—"

The painting tore down the middle, and one half dropped to Eleanor’s feet.

Alexander walked in, surrounded by a crowd, and happened to see this scene.

This gallery was opened by his cousin and was under the protection of the Prescott family.

Everyone in City A knew that no one dared to cause trouble at any place associated with the Prescott family.

"What is going on?" Alexander stopped.

The gallery manager, Mark, rushed forward to ask what had happened.

"Eleanor, what are you doing?"

Eleanor finally noticed the group of people behind her.

She looked past Mark's shoulder, her gaze falling on the cold, commanding man behind him, who seemed to look down on everything.

His well-tailored black suit couldn't hide his defined muscular build.

The man exuded an intense aura of authority, making the usually bustling gallery fall into a deafening silence.

With just one glance, Eleanor recognized that this man was extraordinary.

The middle-aged man standing beside him was an investor Sebastian had spent millions trying to win over, yet he now stood next to Alexander like a meek servant.

Eleanor forced a polite smile. "Breaking the Cocoon to Become a Butterfly. Without breaking, there is no establishing. That is the true meaning of this painting."

Hearing this, a sense of scrutiny entered Alexander's gaze as he carefully examined Eleanor.

"No breaking, no establishing? Miss, your interpretation of this painting is quite unique. However, if you damage property, you must pay compensation."

Eleanor glanced at the price tag and chuckled lightly. "This painting is not worth half a million."

Although the painting was her work, it bore Claudia’s name, and selling it was fraud.

"In that case, I should probably thank you." The people around Alexander clearly sensed his displeasure and quietly lowered their heads, daring not to speak.

"No need for that," Eleanor clapped her hands. "Everyone makes mistakes."

Alexander’s face darkened.

Eleanor stopped talking, bent down, and picked up the ripped half of the painting from the floor.

Suddenly, the sound of high heels approached quickly.

A strong scent of perfume wafted toward her. Claudia, in a strapless dress, quickly walked toward Eleanor, swaying her hips and leading Theodore.

Theodore looked pale, having just recovered from a severe illness.

It was clear he hadn't had an easy time these past two days.

Eleanor felt a sudden pang in her heart.

Theodore saw her and just opened his mouth to say "Mom," when he heard Claudia whisper in a voice only they could hear, "Some of your classmates will be here soon. If they see your mother dressed like a cleaning lady, they will definitely look down on you when you go back to school!"

The word Theodore was about to say was swallowed back.

Achieving her goal, Claudia smiled contentedly.

She moved closer to Eleanor and fanned the air near her nose with her hand. "I wondered what that strange smell was. Turns out, someone who shouldn't be here entered the gallery."

Without Sebastian by her side, Claudia showed her true, harsh colors. "Don't think I don't know what you're thinking. You're just afraid Sebastian will divorce you for real, so you found out he was bringing me to the gallery and came here specifically to apologize and beg for forgiveness!"

"Sebastian said he is definitely divorcing you. Get lost now. Don't be foolish."

She nudged Theodore. "Teddy, isn't that right?"

Theodore, remembering that Eleanor hadn't called even once while he was sick these past two days, turned his head away and sneered coldly, "Right!"

Theodore’s words made Eleanor’s heart ache, and irrepressible sadness spread through her.

She took a deep breath. Her goal for today was to sell her painting, so she didn't want to get tangled up with them. She turned to look for Daphne.

"Stop right there! What are you holding?" Claudia snatched the item from Eleanor’s hand. Her eyes instantly flared with rage when she saw what it was.

Claudia raised her hand and delivered a hard slap across Eleanor’s face.

"Eleanor, you shameless tramp! You came to the gallery to tear up my painting! Have you lost your mind?"