The Ex-Wife's Burning Elegance novel Chapter 1252

The moment he saw Joshua, the smile on Foreman's face tightened.

"Star likes music boxes," he explained coolly. "It's only natural I'd give her something she likes."

Joshua's tone was laced with insinuation. "Is it that Star likes them, or is it you, Mr. Richards? Or perhaps…" His gaze shifted to the music box in Stella's hands. "Is there something special about them?"

A flicker of stiffness crossed Foreman's face before vanishing. "There's nothing special about them. The only unique thing is that they're all crafted by the same master sculptor."

Joshua raised an eyebrow, feigning keen interest. "And which master sculptor would that be, Mr. Richards?" He added, "I find this music box quite charming myself. I'd love to know where you bought it so I can get one too."

"The artist's name is Louis," Foreman said dismissively. "He's a wanderer, travels constantly for inspiration. There's no telling where he'll turn up."

But Joshua pressed on, "You've given her so many music boxes, so you must have a way of finding him. Or are you unwilling to tell me your source, Mr. Richards?"

Foreman had, of course, carved every music box himself. There was no master sculptor. Joshua's relentless questioning ignited a spark of irritation deep within him.

"I'll let you know if I hear of his whereabouts," he said, trying to brush him off.

Joshua didn't press further. Instead, he turned to Stella. "Star, may I have a look at the music box Mr. Richards gave you?"

Seeing his interest, Stella handed it over. "Of course."

"My apologies, Mr. Richards," Joshua said, his voice devoid of any real remorse. "My hand must have slipped. I'll pay you back for it. How much was it? Cash or a wire transfer?"

Foreman stared blankly at the wreckage, his heart bleeding with every shard.

Then, Joshua's tone shifted. "Though, if you don't mind me saying, Mr. Richards, the craftsmanship seems a bit shoddy. Are you certain you bought this from a master sculptor? You weren't swindled, were you?"

Foreman didn't seem to hear him. He was lost in the sight of the fragments scattered on the floor. The tiny violin, broken in two, had rolled to a stop at his feet. Hidden in a small recess of the model were the words he had painstakingly carved: *Forever Love*.

He had imagined that one day, when he and Stella were finally together, this music box would be a cherished memento of their love.