The CEO Hid His Mistress Inside A Million Dollar Painting Chapter 03

The CEO Hid His Mistress Inside A Million Dollar Painting Chapter 03

At dinner, Hyatt surprisingly cooked for once.

What he served was a full table of blaringly spicy Texas-style dishes.

He knew perfectly well I had a stomach condition and couldn’t eat anything spicy.

“Perla, why aren’t you eating?”

I didn’t touch a bite. Vicky sat next to Hyatt, her lips bright red from the food.

She picked up a piece of fish covered in chili peppers and put it in my bowl, smiling innocently. “I know you don’t eat spicy food, but Mr. Thorne has been going bland all these years just to accommodate you. Can’t you cut him some slack?”

Hyatt stroked her head, his tone soft and indulgent. “Ignore her. She’s a pampered princess. What would she know about real living?”

They flirted openly, making me feel like an outsider who didn’t belong.

I slammed down my cutlery and locked myself in the guest room.

But the comments kept scrolling in front of me.

[Perla stormed off. Hyatt carried Vicky straight to the bedroom!]

[Oh my god! They really went into the wedding photo painting. Hyatt pressed Vicky where they held hands, saying he’d give her a new “wedding” there!]

I shot up from the bed.

My heart turned cold all the way through.

A wedding inside that painting?

Perfect.

I thought that wedding photo had been hanging there far too long anyway.

A little preservation with industrial preservative made perfect sense.

When I burst in, the thick scent of sandalwood couldn’t quite mask that sharp, musky sweetness in the air.

Hyatt was sitting at the desk, head down, looking at some documents.

Vicky was nowhere to be seen.

The comments exploded instantly.

[Whoa! Perla’s here! Hide quick, Vicky!]

[Hyatt had just stripped her clothes off and was halfway through pulling down her pants—had to shove it all back in and stop cold. Talk about a mood killer.]

[Oh no, what’s Perla holding? Did she figure something out?]

Hyatt didn’t look up. The rustle of pages echoed sharply in the silent room.

“Perla, knock before entering. Didn’t your parents teach you basic manners?”

His voice was tight, his eyes darting uncontrollably toward the wedding photo above the bed.

I shook the industrial preservative in my hand. “The wedding photo’s fading. I wanted to give it a full seal treatment before dawn.”

I walked straight to the bed.

Right where Hyatt and I held hands in the painting, a small shadow flickered, scrambling into the layers of the wedding dress hem.

I twisted open the bottle, pretending to pour it over the canvas.

“Don’t you dare!” Hyatt roared, lunging forward and shoving me hard.

I stumbled and hit the corner of the wardrobe, stars bursting in my eyes from the pain.

The liquid in my hand splattered all over my arm, instantly scalding the skin bright red.

Hyatt, however, rushed straight to the wedding photo, checking it carefully.

Only when he confirmed his “baby” inside the painting was safe did he relax.

He turned back to me, anger barely contained in his eyes. “How long are you going to keep this up, Perla? What do you gain from ruining the wedding photo?”

He kicked the remaining bottle into the corner with disgust, frowning at my swollen, red arm.

“You’ve made the whole house reek. Disgusting. Get out of here, you’re a nuisance.”

[Hyatt is awesome! This is how you deal with a shrew. She almost hurt Vicky!]

[Perla definitely did it on purpose. Hyatt spoiled her too much before, that’s why she’s so unreasonable now.]

I leaned against the wall to stand.

For three years of marriage, even a small cut while cooking made him panic, sucking the wound to stop the bleeding.

Now, pale with pain, I was just “disgusting” to him.

I said nothing, didn’t look at him, and walked out holding back tears.

“Stop,” He called out suddenly.

I froze, not turning back.

“Since you love doing ‘maintenance’ so much,” he said coldly, “why don’t you go fix this thing too?”