The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 264

Penelope stormed inside. The house was crowded with the Sullivan family's relatives and friends—men, women, old, and young. She scanned the room but didn't see who she was looking for, so she continued upstairs.

"Penelope, we didn't invite you! What are you doing here?" Mrs. Sullivan spotted her and hurried after her.

"Don't tell me you've had a change of heart and you're here to cause trouble! It's too late, I'm telling you! Zebulon and Rebecca are getting married tomorrow. Even if you got on your knees and begged us now, the Sullivan family wouldn't take you back!"

Mrs. Sullivan chased Penelope up the stairs and was about to grab her when Penelope unexpectedly snatched a porcelain sculpture from the landing and turned as if to smash it over her head.

Mrs. Sullivan jumped back in fright.

"You—you barge into my home and then try to assault me! You—you've gone too far!"

If only Penelope could speak, she would have cursed Mrs. Sullivan into oblivion.

But physical action worked just as well, and she was equally skilled in that department.

Seeing that Mrs. Sullivan was too scared to block her again, Penelope marched straight to the study.

Zebulon was there, just as she expected. He was fumbling with the painting, trying to wrap it in packing paper.

When he saw her, a flash of guilt crossed his face, and he quickly hid the painting behind his back.

"Who let you in? Get out, now!" he yelled.

Penelope gritted her teeth and lunged for the painting.

Zebulon dodged and ran out of the room. He made it to the small sitting room on the second floor before she caught up with him.

She grabbed the frame, trying to wrench it from his grasp, but Zebulon held on tight, pulling back with all his might.

Soon, the frame began to loosen. If they kept pulling, the canvas would tear.

Zebulon didn't care, but Penelope couldn't bear the thought of it being damaged. She had no choice but to let go.

Seeing her release her grip, Zebulon guessed her thoughts and immediately grew smug.

"Go ahead and try to take it. I'll rip it to shreds!"

Penelope's hands balled into fists. She took out her phone and quickly typed: "You stole that painting from my house! It's mine!"

Penelope trembled with rage. He knew she would never let the painting be destroyed, which was why he was being so brazen.

"We broke up. It's only natural that I take back the things I gave you. It's perfectly legal. Even if you call the police, they won't help you."

"This painting is useless to you!"

"Of course it's useful. I'm going to give it to Mrs. Stapleton as a wedding gift. You should feel honored; she happens to be a fan of your mother's work."

Penelope froze. He stole her painting to give to her as a wedding gift?

What a joke.

Just as Penelope was reeling from the absurdity of it all, Rebecca emerged from the master bedroom.

She walked up to Penelope with a beaming smile. "Penelope, I knew you'd keep your promise and come be my maid of honor!"

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