Simon frowned at the scraps of paper on the ground and bent down to pick them up.
But the moment his hand touched the pieces, Selina’s voice rang out from afar, “Simon, where are you?”
Simon instantly pulled his hand back, didn’t even look at Clara, and walked away without hesitation.
Clara watched his fading figure, suddenly smiling, yet tears streamed down her face as she smiled.
Just because Selina called, he walked away without looking back.
Did he love her that much?
Enough to abandon all his promises just to be with her.
Suddenly, heavy rain poured outside. Clara wandered for two hours in a daze before finally returning to the villa she shared with Simon.
That night, Simon never came home.
Under extreme physical and emotional strain, she developed a high fever that night, one that lasted three days.
In her delirium, she had a long dream. She dreamed of young Simon carrying her over mountains and rivers, saying he would carry her for the rest of his life.
When she opened her eyes again, she was alone in the room.
She was about to call the housekeeper for medicine when the door suddenly opened.
Clara instinctively looked up and saw the person she never wanted to see again—Selina.
“Miss Hart, we meet again.” The memory of the art exhibit hit Clara hard, her emotions surging.
“What are you doing here? This is my home. Please leave.” Selina took a drag from her cigarette and waved the keys in her hand. “Simon said what’s his is mine, so naturally I can come whenever I want.” Clara felt a sharp pain in her chest. She hadn’t expected Simon to open their home to Selina so easily.
Did he really love her that much?
“Miss Hart, I came to tell you something good.” Selina showed her phone, speaking proudly. “‘Woman Giving Birth’ has gained huge attention and was reposted by major media. In a week, I’ll bring it to an international exhibition. Then the whole world will see your beautiful body.” Clara froze. On the screen, she lay naked among the crowd, her lower body soaked in yellow liquid, her expression empty and broken.
A crushing wave of humiliation nearly drowned her. She trembled violently, almost biting her lip until it bled. Selina, still unsatisfied, pulled out more photos.
“Miss Hart, these are for my next exhibit. The theme is still you. I haven’t decided on a title yet—can you help me think of one?”
This time, the photos were intimate pictures of her, each taken by Simon during moments of passion.
He once swore no one else would ever see them, yet now they were in Selina’s hands.
Clara froze, her voice shaking. “Why do you have these photos?”
“Simon gave them to me, of course.” Selina crushed her cigarette, her tone gleefully cruel. “We artists aren’t that uptight. Simon knew I needed photos related to desire, so he gave them to me.”
“Oh, and he also said you’re even sexier in person!”
Clara shook violently, her teeth chattering, finally forcing out, “Give me back the photos!”
“No way! They’re materials for my next exhibition, and plenty of people are waiting to see them. Without them, what would they look at?”
No! She couldn’t let anyone see them. She’d rather die.
Clara lunged to grab the phone. In the struggle, Selina suddenly smirked and fell backward.
Just then, Simon pushed the door open and walked in.
Seeing the scene, his expression darkened. He seized Clara’s arm, pulled Selina into his embrace, and snapped, “Clara! What are you doing?”
“Simon, you’re finally here!”
Selina shrank into his arms, pretending to be wronged. “Simon, I don’t know why Miss Hart hates me. I only asked her about the title for my next exhibit, and she glared at me like she wanted me dead.”
Simon’s face darkened, and the look he gave Clara was filled with disgust.
“Clara, how did you become so vicious! Selina knew you were sick and even canceled her plans to visit you, shared her good news, and you actually attacked her!”
Good news?
Selina’s “good news” was treating her like an object, displayed naked for all to see?
Clara’s eyes dimmed, but she still asked, “Simon, those photos of me—did you give them to her?”
Simon frowned, answering coldly, “Don’t look at me like that. Those are art, not as dirty as you think.”
“Art?” Clara suddenly laughed, tears falling uncontrollably.
She raised her hand and slapped him across the face.
“Simon, you bastard!”
“If it’s art, why doesn’t Selina strip naked and let everyone see? Since she loves being a mistress so much, standing there bare might be a hit!”
Before she could finish, she was kicked hard in the chest.
Holding Selina, Simon looked grim.
“Hit me if you want, but who allowed you to insult Selina?”
“She made you the centerpiece of her work and gave you the chance to experience art because she admired you. I never thought you’d be so ungrateful. You really do have a lowly life.”
“Guards, lock Madam in the dark room. She is not to come out without my permission!”
