Chapter 220

Chapter 220

After the exhibition ended, Harper sat in the empty hall, staring at the new piece.

Bianca stayed by her side, not sure of what to say.

Soon, Alaric rushed over, too. Seeing Harper sitting on the steps with that numb expression, a wave of guilt surged through him.

He stepped forward and pulled her into his arms, head bowed. "Harper, this is my fault. I've been too busy lately. It's all on me..."

Harper let him hold her hand, shaking her head. "Alaric, I need you to look into someone for me."

"Who?"

"Rupert," Harper said. "I need to know what he's been up to recently, who he's been meeting with."

Alaric nodded without hesitation. "Done."

Rupert had been in a great mood lately.

Better than ever before.

He scrolled through his phone, reading all the news about Harper—first the audit, then the exhibition disaster. One problem after another piling onto her. She must be completely overwhelmed by now, right?

He raised his wine glass and took a sip.

The wine was bought with Elowen's money. Not anything high-end, but drinkable enough.

Still, it beat sleeping under bridges.

He remembered the look in Elowen's eyes that night—that contempt. He'd seen it clear as day.

But so what? No matter how much she looked down on him, she still needed to work with him. She still needed him.

A cold laugh escaped his lips as he took another drink.

Elowen had her agenda, and he had his.

Once he destroyed Harper, Elowen would be useless to him.

By then, with dirt on her in his hands, how would she refuse to cooperate?

The more Rupert thought about it, the more satisfied he became, as if he could already see his triumphant comeback.

His phone rang.

He glanced down—it was Elowen. "What's up?"

"Did you see the news?" Elowen's voice carried an edge of urgency. "Harper's exhibition went ahead! And that new piece she swapped in? It's actually gone viral!"

Rupert froze. "What?"

"See for yourself!"

She hung up. Rupert opened his phone and searched Harper's name.

#Harper'sExhibitionStunsAudience

#Harper'sNewWork

He clicked through, his expression darkening with each article.

In all the coverage, Harper stood on stage wearing a simple white outfit, her face showing no trace of panic.

Behind her, the new piece—clean and powerful, every line razor-sharp.

The comments were all full of praises.

[Harper is incredible! The exhibition got sabotaged and she still pulled out a new piece this fast!]

[Where are those saboteurs now? Come out and show yourselves!]

Rupert stared at those comments, his hand trembling around his phone with rage.

How could this happen?

He'd hired people to destroy her main exhibit. How could she possibly produce a new piece so quickly? And such a stunning one at that?

Elowen called again. "Did you see it? All those articles! Everything we did—it didn't destroy her, it just gave her more publicity!"

Rupert gritted his teeth. "I know."

"You know? What good does knowing do? What now?"

Rupert fell silent for a moment, then said, "Don't panic. I have a plan."

Elowen let out a cold laugh. "What plan? We spent all that money and accomplished nothing! The tax audit found nothing, the exhibition wasn't ruined, and now she's even more popular! Rupert, this is your brilliant plan?"

Rupert's expression darkened. "Are you blaming me?"

"Who else should I blame? You said destroying her mother's grave would make her fall apart. And what happened? Not only didn't she fall apart, she's gotten stronger! And those workers—two got arrested! They didn't rat us out, but who knows if the investigation will lead back to us?"

Rupert took a deep breath, suppressing his anger. "Enough! Stop yelling. Let me think."

He hung up and sat there, staring blankly out the window.

He couldn't understand it.

He knew Harper so well, knew what she cared about most, knew where her weaknesses were.

He'd thought that destroying her mother's grave would break her.

He'd thought that creating problems would overwhelm her.

But instead of her to be broken—she'd grown stronger.

When did that Harper who used to be so meek around him transform into this?

Rupert thought for a long time, then suddenly smiled.

That smile carried a hint of madness.

If he couldn't destroy her, he'd take a different path.

He thought about Harper's current status—top designer in the country, controlling massive resources, with Alaric as her backer.

What if he could partner with Harper?

They'd been married once. Even if he'd wronged her, as long as he was willing to apologize, willing to humble himself, Harper wouldn't completely shut him out, would she?

He'd just been too proud before, too unwilling to bow his head.

If he could get access to some resources, then slowly infiltrate her studio, and eventually...

Rupert's eyes grew brighter.

Yes. That was it.

Harper was a soft-hearted woman.

As long as he begged her, admitted his mistakes, she might soften.

Then he could make his comeback.

Once he had capital, he could compete with Alaric.

The more Rupert considered it, the more feasible the plan seemed.

He stood up and walked to the mirror, looking at his stubbled reflection.

He needed to clean himself up. Dress presentably.

Soon, Rupert stood outside Harper's studio building.

He'd deliberately groomed himself—shaved clean, gotten a haircut, wore a newly purchased suit. Not a designer brand, but at least it looked presentable.

He adjusted his tie in the glass door's reflection, took a deep breath, and walked inside.

The receptionist looked up, startled. "Sir, who are you here to see?"

"I'm here to see Harper," Rupert said, trying to make his voice sound steady. "Tell her it's Rupert Getty."

The receptionist's expression shifted, but she picked up the phone. "Ms. Mellon, a Mr. Rupert Getty is here to see you... Okay."

Hanging up, she looked at him with complex emotions. "Ms. Mellon will see you. Third floor, first door on the left."

Rupert nodded and entered the elevator.

As it ascended, his heart beat faster and faster.

He remembered his days with Harper, when he hadn't thought anything of her, had considered her just a boring housewife.

Now he had to beg her.

The feeling was awful.

But for his comeback, he'd endure it.

The elevator doors opened. He stepped out and knocked on the door.

"Come in." Harper's voice was as calm and still as water.

Though she didn't know what Rupert was up to now, she had her suspicions.

These recent incidents probably had something to do with him.

Rupert pushed the door open and entered.

Harper sat behind her desk, reviewing some documents.

She glanced up at him, then lowered her gaze back to the papers.

That glance—like looking at an irrelevant stranger.

Rupert stood there, somewhat awkward. "Harper..."

Harper looked up, her eyes ice-cold and murderous. Rupert could only shut his mouth and start again. "Ms. Mellon."