GoodNovelChapter 426 Annoyance Selena was stunned, not understanding Raymond's intention.
She returned to Rose Garden, gathered her favorite painting tools, and headed straight for the hotel. Upon arrival, she saw an oil painting clamped on an easel in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Selena recognized it immediately it was her teacher's work.
"Mr. Montague?" She heard the sound of water from the bathroom, and shortly after, Raymond emerged, casually drying his hair with a towel. "Alex gavean oil painting, said Mr. Butler ran off halfway through it. Can you finish it?" he asked.
Selena glanced at the painting-indeed, it was.
She nodded and looked up calmly.
"How much are you offering for the work?" Her voice was emotionless.
It seemed as though if Raymond didn't offer money, Selena would leave right then and there. Raymond watched her, carelessly tossing aside the towel in his hand as he approached Selena.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt"Do you know how many people want this opportunity and can't get it?" Raymond said.
If he just mentioned this painting, a whole host of artists eager to curry favor with him would crushing to apply.
Even those well-known painters who had been famous in the industry for years.
Selena immediately turned and headed for the door. "Mr. Montague, I've just remembered I have something else tonight." Seeing her determination without any hesitation, Raymond's expression turned icy, and he pulled her back in one swift move, sitting down on the sofa and drawing her into his lap. "Feeling upset tonight?" Raymond asked, his hands firmly wrapped around her waist.
Selena inwardly sneered, indeed feeling unhappy; remembering what he had done made her want to slap him across the face.
But reason reminded her that getting angry over this would mean losing.
And getting mad at Raymond over this was utterly illogical.
In his eyes, a so-called wife was as insignificant as trash by the roadside.
Holding her, Raymond lowered his head to sniff at her neck, his sharp eyes catching sight of the bruising on her wrist. His body tensed, and his tone instantly grew cold. "What happened to your hand?" He grabbed her hand, which still bore distinct fingerprint marks, now turning purple and blue.
The hand of someone who paints is more precious than anything.
Indeed, Selena's hand hurt. At the time, James had been in a state of semi-consciousness, gripping her solely by instinct.
The subconscious strength of a man can be immense.
Raymond gently squeezed her hand and, seeing only a slight frown from her, knew that the bones weren't damaged.
It was clear the marks were made by someone's grip.
Considering a possibility, his aura turned chilly.
"Did your husband do this?" Selena tried to pull her hand back, but Raymond held on tighter, careful not to hurt her even as he grasped her arm.
"It wasn't him," Selena responded.
"Then who did you fight with?" Raymond pressed.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmHe might have been better off not asking.
But Raymond's persistent questioning was infuriating.
"Nothing happened; just stop asking." Selena attempted to rise, but Raymond held her waist firmly, his tone slightly aggrieved.
"What's wrong? Why are you suddenly so angry?" Letting her go, Raymond seemed puzzled. He rummaged through a cabfor a first-aid kit and took out sointment. Grabbing her hand, he began to apply it.
But Selena was not appreciative, instead standing up and clutching her painting supplies tightly.
"Mr. Montague, I can take care of the medication myself. If you don't need my painting, then I'll be leaving."
Raymond had ointment ready on his fingertip but ended up applying it to nothing As he was originally sitting on the sofa, and she was standing, he had to look up to see her. "Did something happen in Manhattan?" Raymond asked. "Nothing." "Did someone like Bert Thompson bully you again?" "It's not that."
With each question, her face grew darker, her impatience more evident, and her irritation intensifying. She took a deep breath, suppressing the ve. bpiling emotions in her chest, and headed straight for the door. By this time, Raymond had wiped off the ointment from his fingertip with a tissue. Seeing her move towards the door, he quickly followed. "Let go!" Her tone was cold. This was the first tshe had spoken to Raymond in such a manner.
Raymond stiffened for a moment, then swiftly closed the door that she had opened. Turning around, he O grasped her chin, making her look up at him. "Why are you getting angry at me?"
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