Half an hour later, at the Winston Estate.
Sophia Sullivan wore a crisp white shirt paired with black cargo pants, looking effortlessly polished.
Mr. Winston Sr. waited by the entrance, leaning on his cane as he hurried forward at the sight of her. "Sophia, I’ve been waiting for you!"
"Don’t worry, I’ll do my best to restore the painting."
She steadied the elderly man as they walked inside.
Though she despised the rest of the Winston family, Sophia held genuine gratitude for Mr. Winston Sr. He treated her with sincerity, like his own granddaughter. She wouldn’t betray that kindness.
"With you here, I feel much more at ease."
The old man nodded, his expression softening.
In the study, art supplies were already laid out on the mahogany desk.
"Take a look at this section. Do you think you can fix it?"
He pointed to a damaged corner of the painting.
What was once a serene summer lotus pond now bore the scars of violent rain and deliberate destruction.
"I’ll try."
Sophia’s gaze swept over the canvas. Dipping her brush, she made precise strokes—dark lines sketching the contours from memory.
From chaos, the original image gradually emerged...
Mr. Winston Sr. watched with bated breath, his aged eyes brightening with awe. "Sophia, I knew you were brilliant!"
All his earlier anxiety vanished. To him, she was nothing short of a prodigy—her skill unmatched, her memory flawless.
The more he thought about it, the more he regretted his grandson’s poor judgment.
Liam Winston had mistaken a pebble for a pearl!
"I’ve only outlined it. The real test is color matching—"
Sophia didn’t exaggerate her abilities.
But the old man had absolute faith. "I’ve studied this painting countless times. Your strokes mirror the original artist’s—no deviation at all."
He sighed. "That foolish grandson of mine has no idea what he lost."
Chloe Evans arrived at the study just in time to hear those words.
The implication was clear—compared to Sophia, she was worthless!
Burning with jealousy, Chloe stepped inside with a saccharine smile. "Grandpa, aren’t you putting too much faith in Sophia?"
Her eyes flicked over the array of paints and brushes.
Innocent tone, sharp sarcasm.
"Don’t they say that bad artists rely on fancy tools?"
She sighed theatrically. "Sophia, if you ruin this painting, can you even afford to compensate for it?"
Ignoring her, Sophia focused on blending hues, meticulously reviving the damaged section.
Mr. Winston Sr. slammed his cane down, scowling. "Enough! Who invited you here?"
After Sophia’s fallout with Liam, he had banned both Chloe and Liam from the estate!
Just then, another voice sounded from the doorway.
"Grandfather, I came to help."
Liam Winston stood stiffly at the sight of the raised cane. Behind him, a team of conservators carried wooden cases.
"...How dare you show your face?"
The old man’s temper flared hotter at the sight of his grandson.
He swung the cane. "Help? Staying away would be help! Disgrace!"
Amid the commotion, Sophia neared completion.
Restoring the corner hadn’t taken long.
Liam dodged the cane, urgency in his voice. "I brought the best restoration team. They’ll fix the painting—just trust me this once!"
The polished CEO image was crumbling.
Chloe added tearfully, "Grandpa, no matter how much you favor outsiders, Liam is your grandson. He went through so much trouble to arrange this."
Her eyes shimmered with crocodile tears.
"If you must hit someone, hit me instead."
Disgusted by the act, Mr. Winston Sr. stopped mid-swing, though his displeasure remained.
Sophia exhaled. "Done."
Her cool voice drew all eyes.
Only then did Liam notice the figure behind the desk.
"...Sophia?"
His throat tightened.
Speaking tugged at the bruises on his lips, but he barely registered the pain.
His gaze locked onto her.
She didn’t spare him a glance.
"Does it match your memory?" Sophia asked the old man.
Silence gave way to murmurs.
Mr. Winston Sr. and Chloe crowded forward.
Sophia stepped back, maintaining distance.
The old man beamed. "Perfect! Sophia, you’ve worked miracles!"
A weight lifted from his chest. Even Liam and Chloe seemed slightly less intolerable now.
He grasped Sophia’s hands, too moved for words.
Before she could brush it off as no trouble, a voice from the restoration team sneered, "Miss, your amateur efforts end here. Leave the real work to professionals—"