Chapter 102:
“Are the works of these artists very expensive?”
“I don’t have the most expensive ones here. The most valuable pieces are in my dad’s safe. He doesn’t allow me to see them,” Herbert replied.
I was stunned.
“Oh my god, these aren’t even the most expensive ones?” I knew Herbert’s family was wealthy, but I hadn’t realized just how rich they were. Every item in the house seemed incredibly expensive. No wonder McKenna had seemed so dismissive of me earlier—she probably thought I was after their wealth.
“Are you hungry? Let’s go eat,” said Herbert, breaking my thoughts.
“Okay!” I nodded eagerly.
As we left, my eyes were still fixed on the paintings. Vincent van Gogh and Picasso! These were priceless works of art, and Herbert’s family had them on display.
Herbert’s laughter rang in my ears.
“If you like them, I’ll give you two.”
“Don’t!” I exclaimed, flustered.
“I’m afraid the police will think I stole them. Besides, I’m worried I’ll be robbed. With something like that by my side, it’s basically a ticking time bomb. It’s safer for you to keep it here.”
I suddenly remembered the soldier sentry just outside the manor. It was clear now that the security was top-notch, likely to protect the entire property.
After all, their family was a powerful mix of high-ranking officials and wealthy individuals.
Ten minutes later, I followed Herbert to the restaurant.
There were more than a dozen exquisite dishes on the table, along with a variety of pastries and desserts. The tableware was made from the finest materials. It felt as though I had stepped into a palace.
“Our chef specializes in French cuisine. Try it; it tastes amazing,” Herbert said, picking up his knife and fork.
At that moment, I looked up at Herbert, trying to gather my thoughts.
Before I could speak, Herbert seemed to understand what I meant. He said, “My mother has a temporary gathering with her friends, so she’s not eating at home. We’ll be the only ones here this afternoon.”
Hearing this, I suddenly felt much more relaxed. I immediately picked up the knife and fork and began to eat.
Herbert remarked, “I didn’t expect that you weren’t very afraid of my mother.”
I glared at him and replied, “She’s not a monster. Why should I be afraid of her? She’s your mother. I still have to endure her.”
Herbert pursed his lips.
“No one has ever dared to say those words to my mother.”
“No one was born to be insulted. The accusations she gave me were too harsh. I wouldn’t dare to accept them,” I responded, curling my lips.
Herbert glanced at me, clearly intrigued.
“Then what did she accuse you of?”
I sighed, recalling her words.
