The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 430

"I... I'm so sorry, I had no idea. I didn't recognize you, Mrs. Stapleton," Jack stammered, scrambling to his feet despite the pain. "It was all... all a misunderstanding. You kicked well. Please, kick me again. I won't move, I swear."

Penelope scoffed, ignored them both, and continued inside.

Staring at her back, Judy's eyes were sharp and her fists clenched. It's really her. Even now, she couldn't believe Edith's daughter was Penelope.

Having lost to her so many times, Judy had no desire to challenge her again.

But now... Judy gritted her teeth. She had no choice but to play dirty.

Inside the gallery, Penelope's gaze softened as she looked at the paintings. These were her mother's works. She imagined her mother as she painted each one, radiant and absorbed in her passion, her heart filled with joy.

Her mother never picked up a paintbrush again after that. Perhaps it was because she could no longer find that pure sense of love for her art, or perhaps because she never again experienced such beautiful moments in her life.

She moved past paintings of sunsets, lakeside views, and mountain scenery until she saw it—the painting accused of plagiarism. It hung there awkwardly, a depiction of a birch forest in autumn.

She wasn't an art expert, but she had a strong feeling it wasn't her mother's work. The mood and the style felt completely wrong.

The painting had drawn a crowd, not of admirers, but of people who had followed the online plagiarism gossip and were here for the spectacle.

"It does look really similar. The composition, the lighting, the color palette... it's almost identical."

"And here I thought this Edith was some kind of undiscovered genius. Turns out she's just a copycat."

"Maybe all her other paintings are copied, too."

"And Donald organized this exhibition for her. It makes you question his character."

Listening to the comments, Penelope looked further into the room and saw Donald surrounded by people.

Being a famous celebrity, he was being swarmed for photos and autographs. He looked exhausted from dealing with them, but he kept glancing toward the entrance, searching for someone.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify