Chapter 2A Muse to Astonish the World

The heavy front door clicked shut behind us. I turned, my eyes cold steel.

"Warwick, you had better have a damn good explanation."

He rushed forward, his words tumbling out. "Kathy, I swear, there's nothing between us! The girl is incredibly talented, but she comes from nothing. It was just… a moment of weakness for a promising artist…"

I cut him off with a scornful laugh. "Sponsoring her when she was a minor? Fine. But she's twenty now, perfectly capable of standing on her own two feet."

"Starting next month, you will pay only the gallery's basic contract fee. Not a single cent more for materials. I'll have Mr. Davies arrange an assistant's position for her at the gallery; it won't interfere with her creative work."

I stared directly at him, laying out my terms, one by one. "You will cut off all contact with her. That includes the sponsorship. From now on, the money will be transferred directly from my personal account to the gallery."

"And," my gaze intensified, "everything you've given her—the brooch, anything else—will be returned. In its original condition. If Luna Jiang wants to be a high-minded artist, she can stop acting like a canary in a gilded cage."

A storm of emotions crossed Warwick's face before he finally slumped in defeat and nodded. He turned and walked away without another word.

Years ago, the Vance family, desperate for a foothold in the cultural sector, had sent their meticulously groomed heir to me. He was refined, tasteful, and elegant. Though I had little interest in romance, I saw the value in a power merger and agreed to the marriage. After we married, we discovered a shared passion for the arts and enjoyed several years of genuine harmony. Though the passion had faded recently, we remained respectful partners.

I understood that all marriages eventually settle into a quiet routine, but I would never, ever tolerate betrayal.

The next day, as promised, Warwick returned with everything. The 'Morning Star' brooch lay nestled in its velvet box on the table before me.

"Kathy, I've made it clear to her. We won't have any more contact," he vowed, his tone earnest.

Seeing his compliance, the fire in my chest cooled slightly. I said nothing more.

The moment Warwick left, a friend request popped up on my phone.

It was from Luna.

I was wondering how she got my contact information when a second request came through. Assuming it was about the sponsorship, I accepted, ready to handle it professionally.

Before I could type a single word, my screen was flooded with her messages.

"Ms. Sterling, don't you think you're overreaching? You're nothing but a parasitic vine living off your husband's capital."

"By what right do you take back the gifts Mr. Vance gave me?"

"He paid for them with his own money! He can give them to whomever he wants!"

"You call yourself a great curator? What kind of power trip is this, crushing a young artist like me?"

I read the defiant words, a cold smile spreading across my lips. Not a delicate flower, then. A venomous little snake with fangs.

I typed back slowly. "Warwick and I are legally married. Our assets are shared. It is my right to spend his money. But every cent he spent on you is marital property. If I wanted to, I could sue you for malicious appropriation and make you pay back every last penny, with interest."

"Miss Jiang, is this how an artist who depends on sponsorship speaks to her patron? I suggest you learn your place. It wasn't easy to claw your way out of some backwater village into the city. Don't throw it all away."

"I'll let this slide as youthful impulsiveness. But if there is a next time, your contract and your assistant position will be gone."

The chat window went silent. She didn't reply.

I didn't give it another thought. I'd seen countless girls like her, trying to climb the social ladder on their backs. They rarely end well.