He Brought His Mistress, I Brought My Lawyers Chapter 23

He Brought His Mistress, I Brought My Lawyers Chapter 23

Avery’s smile froze. She sat there, stunned, and instinctively touched her temple. The scar she had carefully concealed now seemed to burn under his straightforward gaze.

Julian didn’t look away. There was no pity in his eyes, only an almost professional appreciation.

“I’m sorry if that was out of line. But to me, that scar is like an abstract painter’s most unruly and decisive signature on a perfect canvas. It doesn’t damage your beauty. It adds something resilient and compelling.”

Resilient.

The word was like a key, fitting perfectly into the lock of her sealed-off heart.

“I… I’ve never thought of it that way,” she murmured, her voice dry.

Julian smiled gently, took a business card from his pocket, and pushed it toward her.

“The art foundation I mentioned is newly established, and it still needs an adviser who truly understands the field. Miss Caldwell, if you’re interested, I hope you’ll consider the position.”

Avery lowered her head. The card’s design was clean and textured. *Julian Reyes.* Beneath it, in small text:

*Reyes Studio.*

She recognized the name. In the latest issue of *Architectural Digest*, Reyes Studio had been described as “a poet who infuses the soul of the desert into modern architecture.” She had never forgotten the minimalist desert home featured in that article.

So it was him.

A well-known independent designer and artist.

An opportunity placed before her. A new beginning, completely severed from the past. Avery had no reason to refuse.

She lifted her head and met Julian’s expectant gaze, then nodded gently.

“I’m very interested.”

***

Meanwhile, in Boston.

The apartment was dim, a huge, airtight box.

Ethan Ward was on his knees, hanging a painting he had just bought back from an auction house at a high price. It was the work of one of Avery’s favorite local artists, donated along with every other trace of her after she left.

Now, he was buying each item back, one by one. Following his memory, he placed every book and every decoration back where it had been, trying to restore the apartment to how it was before Avery left.

But the more he decorated, the more his heart ached.

It was only a cold shell.

Without Avery, nothing had meaning.

The panic and pain of losing her drowned him like a tide, tormenting him almost to madness.

Ethan suddenly stood and called his assistant, growling into the phone, his voice hoarse with suppressed rage, “Still nothing? Where the hell is Avery?!”

On the other end, the assistant answered nervously, “Mr. Ward, the Caldwell family has blocked all information. Our people can’t get close… There are no leads.”

“Useless!” Ethan’s rage surged. He kicked the refrigerator beside him with a loud bang. “Avery is a public figure! She ran an art foundation! You can’t find one living person?”

The assistant was silent for a long moment before carefully reminding him, his voice a near-whisper, “Mr. Ward… you forgot. Before Miss Caldwell left, her face was injured. She… may not be appearing in public.”