He Buried Me But I Painted My Own Resurrection novel Chapter 104

How could she possibly know Hunter Hale?

Just then, a highly respected veteran of the art world walked over to Zone C.

Arthur Penhaligon had merely cast a casual glance, but the moment his eyes landed on the painting, he froze as if struck by lightning.

"This... this painting!" His beard trembled with excitement as he hurried over, practically pressing his face against the canvas.

He stared at it obsessively, his eyes suddenly reddening.

"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!" his voice was hoarse. "What a breathtaking Chrysalis Broken. To see a masterpiece like this in my lifetime... I can die without regrets!"

The surrounding media sensed the commotion and immediately turned their lenses, swarming toward that inconspicuous corner.

The moment they saw the painting, a powerful, suffocating vitality burst forth from the canvas, fiercely slamming into the hearts of everyone present.

"Oh my god, this painting is on par with the legendary K!" a senior reporter gasped.

"K? The genius painter who shot to fame at Art Basel?"

"Exactly! That's her! And this piece actually looks even better than K's previous work."

The entire hall erupted!

Countless flashes and microphones instantly swarmed the slender figure.

"Did you paint this? It's absolutely stunning!"

"Could you share what inspired you to create this masterpiece?"

With too many people bombarding Sienna with questions, some reporters shifted their cameras to Hunter.

"Ms. Hale, what is your relationship with her?"

Left completely ignored in Zone A, Lyla watched the spectacle unfold, the flames of jealousy almost incinerating her sanity.

This wasn't just appreciation; this was elevating her to the altar!

The reporters practically lost their minds, camera shutters echoing like rapid gunfire.

Hunter smoothly blocked them, her commanding presence fending off most of the harassment.

"Everyone, today is an art exhibition. Please focus on the artwork," her voice carried unquestionable authority. "As for everything concerning her, I will hold a formal press conference when the time is right."

With that, she escorted Sienna away under the protection of security guards, heading toward the VIP lounge backstage.

The crowd was kept at bay, but the feverish excitement didn't diminish at all as they continued to snap photos of the painting.

Hall One, Zone A, was entirely forgotten.

Standing in front of her painfully pale and shallow First Snowfall, Lyla felt her blood run cold.