Love or Die: CEO’ s Daily Dose of Swoon (Cordelia) novel Chapter 120

Chapter 120 

Lorna replied indifferently. “What’s it to you, anyway?” 

Fanny chuckled, “What do you mean what’s it to me? Have you forgotten who I am? I’m the chairwoman of the Greenmeadow Art Association. You want to sell your paintings, you’ve got to go through me.” 

The Greenmeadow Art Association was a community organization, but in Greenmeadow, all the painters and artists would show Fanny some respect. 

Lorna got the message in an instant, “Are you behind this?” she asked. 

Fanny’s voice turned icy. “So what if I am? Yesterday, you played your little game, made Calvert block my daughter on social media, now don’t blame me for not playing nice with you.” 

Lorna’s fingers clenched. 

Her paintings had been up for sale for a long time without a buyer. Considering Calvert’s incident happened just yesterday, it was clear Fanny had been targeting her for a while. 

What grudge could last eighteen years? 

Fanny sneered again, “I didn’t do much, really. But you, thinking you’re some kind of top artist? One painting and you expect to rock the watercolor world? Honey, you haven’t touched a brush in eighteen years. Have you even seen the mess you’ve been painting?” 

Truth be told, Lorna felt a bit shaky. She felt her recent works were on par with those from eighteen years ago, perhaps even more mature, but that was just her opinion. She didn’t know what the world thought of her art. 

Fanny’s words shattered her regained confidence, and her fork dropped onto the plate with a clatter. 

She took a deep breath, asking, “Is there anything else?” 

Fanny scoffed, Seriously, in our field, who’s to say who’s a superstar and who’s a dud? It all comes down to who gets the big desk. Cross me, and you’ll get nowhere in Greenmeadow. I’ll enjoy watching you fall!” 

Lorna, trembling with anger, didn’t wait for another word and hung up. 

Tears welled up, catching the attention of Sanderson, who inquired, “What’s wrong?” 

Lorna glanced at him and shook her head, “It’s nothing.” 

Many who bought watercolor paintings were laymen, and an artist’s reputation was often hyped up. The Delaney family had money, and with enough cash, they could indeed buy her a reputation. But she didn’t want 

that. 

She had taken up painting again not for Sanderson to pay her way, and besides, even though they had recovered that fifty million, Sanderson had reinvested it into the business, putting a strain on their finances for the past couple of months. She didn’t want to add to his stress. 

Besides, even if she told Sanderson, there was a barrier between the art world and the business world; other than throwing money to promote someone, there wasn’t much else he could do. 

Seeing her reticence, Sanderson sighed, 

That evening, as Cordelia came home from school, she found that her grandparents had arrived. Her grandfather, battling with mental issues and mobility problems, lived with her grandmother in a room downstairs, which was already tidied up, and they were now chatting in the living room. 

Upon seeing them, Cordelia’s eyes lit up as she approached her grandmother, Mathilda. 

Mathilda teased her, “Miss me, Lia?” 

Cordelia hesitated, “…Yeah.” 

Chapter 120 

Mathilda sighed, “Is it me you missed, or my collection of classic novels?” 

“…Both.” 

“Which more, me or the books?” 

Cordelia felt her grandma was a bit childish. Was her grandmother treating her like she was eight instead of eighteen? Her bemused expression only made Mathilda laugh louder. 

Mathilda then said, “Alright, alright, no more jokes. Let’s see what books I’ve brought you!” 

Cordelia nodded and followed her into the room. 

When they had renovated the house, Sanderson had considered the possibility of the elders moving in, so they had installed a spacious suite on the ground floor, with an adjoining study and living room leading to the bedroom. 

Several boxes of books were yet to be shelved on the study desk. 

Mathilda rummaged through one of the boxes and handed Cordelia a rare, out–of–print edition of “Elemental Chemistry,” a book that probably only someone like Mathilda would possess. 

As Cordelia took the book, her grandfather, Lacy Wilson, also entered the room. 

He was different from typical mental patients, very quiet, sometimes mute and introverted, other times appearing quite normal. 

He looked at Cordelia closely, then smiled and said, “Lorna, dear!” 

Mathilda said with resignation, “He’s confused again.” 

Cordelia didn’t mind. She gently held Lacy’s hand, trying to guide him to the sofa, but he gestured for silence, “Lorna, come here. I’ve got something great to show you.” 

He scurried to the bookshelf, searching for a while before handing her a magazine, “Look at this!” 

Cordelia saw it was a scientific research project proposal. 

He smiled and cherished it like a treasure, “This could be worth a fortune in patent fees. It’ll be your wedding fund! Buy you a big house!” 

Mathilda sighed, “Ever since he got sick, he’s been like this. Take it, otherwise, he’ll bother you about it every day.” 

Cordelia nodded, taking the project proposal and chemistry book out just as Sanderson arrived from work. He greeted her with a smile, “Lia, guess who’s here!‘ 

Cordelia looked over, confused, and to her surprise, she saw a familiar figure following Sanderson into the 

house. 

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