Chapter 239

“It seems Mrs. Stapleton is quite the art collector. I happen to have a piece by Joshua Zade, ‘Spring River,’ at home. I’ll have it sent over for you. If you like it, you can hang it up. If not, just toss it aside.”
The man’s words were dripping with flattery, but they also implied that spending tens of millions on a painting by an unknown artist was a foolish waste.
“Even works by the most famous contemporary artists rarely fetch sixty million.”
“And it has very little collection value.”
Once one person spoke up, others became more direct.
Penelope knew that if she wanted it, Theodore would buy it for her, no matter the cost. But it was a debt she could never repay.
“Forget it. Let the other person have it.”
Theodore gently stroked her cheek, then said into the phone, “One hundred million.”
The words stunned not only the people at the auction but everyone in the room. This was… completely unnecessary.
Penelope was so shocked she grabbed Theodore’s hand and shook her head frantically.
“Don’t worry. This money won’t be spent for nothing.”
“Huh?”
“I’ll collect the debt from you.”
Hearing this, a sense of dread washed over Penelope. She was a good earner, but
a hundred million? It would probably take her a lifetime to pay that back.
As expected, after 8821 bid one hundred million, 8003 did not counter.
“One hundred million, going once, going twice… sold!”
The moment Penelope heard the gavel fall, tears welled up in her eyes. Not wanting anyone to see, she buried her face in Theodore’s chest.
A message came through from the auction house, congratulating Mr. Stapleton from number 8821. It also conveyed a message from Mr. Bishop of number 8003, also known as Donald.
“This painting was created by a dear late friend of mine. She was once a rising star in the art world, but her journey was tragically cut short. This piece holds special significance for me hope Mr. Stapleton will cherish it. Thank you.”
Penelope frowned. 8003 was Donald! How dare he even try to buy her mother’s painting?
The guests were still reeling. Just because Mrs. Stapleton said she wanted it. Theodore had spent a hundred million on a painting that was clearly not worth a fraction of that price wasn’t just about the money; it was a testament to his love for his wife.
It seemed that the best way to get on Theodore’s good side was through Mrs. Stapleton. This thought occurred to everyone simultaneously. Zebulon, in particular, was already plotting how to win her over.
Since Theodore was busy tending to his sick wife and had no time for his guests, the party came to an end. A servant came to show them to their rooms, and Theodore carried Penelope back upstairs.
Theodore went to take a shower first. When he came out, he found Penelope scribbling on a piece of paper. He glanced over her shoulder and saw that the final number she had calculated was one hundred. The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the (.)net
“What’s this?” he asked.
Penelope looked up at him with a
miserable expression. “Based on my average annual salary for the past three years, with a ten percent annua increase it will take me one hundred years to pay back this one hundred million!”
Theodore’s lips curved into a smile. “That long?”
“A hundred years is a lifetime.” Penelope wrapped her arms around his waist, her
hand sneaking under his shirt. “So I owe you for a lifetime.”
“Just talk. Don’t get handsy.”
“Should I pay you some interest first?”
Theodore caught her mischievous hand. “Who really owes whom here?” he asked with a laugh.
“I owe you. So I’ve decided to give myself to you as payment.”
With that, Penelope lay back on the bed. The buttons of her pajamas had somehow come undone, offering a tantalizing glimpse of what was underneath. As if that wasn’t enough, she bit her lower lip playfully.
Theodore’s gaze darkened. “I think I might have to collect some of that interest now.”
He moved over her, his hands gripping her waist and pulling her flush against him.