She Was Never Just a Pretty Face novel Chapter 31

Half an hour later.

The car returned to the city center.

Hilda had the driver pull over by the curb. She turned to Lori and said, "I have a few errands to run. Thank you so much for today, Lori."

Lori smiled. "Of course."

Lori stepped out and personally lifted Annie out of the car. She added to Hilda, "Call me if you need anything. My phone is on 24/7."

For one, she didn't dislike Hilda.

For another, Annie was absolutely adorable.

And finally, as a seasoned corporate veteran, she knew better than to put all her eggs in one basket.

…

Harrell Judson's new company was named Erudite Arts.

—It occupied the 32nd to 34th floors of the Indigo Tower.

Harrell was incredibly deep-pocketed. Even though it was a new company, the office space spanned over thirty thousand square feet. Two floors served as the general employee workspace, while the 34th floor housed his private office, along with Hilda's office and studio.

This far exceeded Hilda's expectations.

She thought it would be a small startup.

She never imagined a full-scale operation with two hundred employees.

—The initial investment was five hundred million.

All to serve Hilda alone.

Hilda felt a twinge of unease. She was terrified of the possibility that Harrell's money might go down the drain.

Harrell didn't mind at all. Business inherently came with wins and losses. Besides, with The Bibliophile's momentum, if he didn't invest, plenty of others would. By the second round of funding, he'd only be getting scraps.

Harrell liked to have the whole pie to himself.

Moreover, he genuinely loved The Bibliophile's paintings.

—He was willing to pay for what he liked.

Hilda still hesitated.

The man offered a gentle smile. "Take your time to think about it."

He walked over to Annie.

The little girl was sitting on the sofa, happily munching on a pastry.

She looked so soft and squishy, with a radiant, flawless complexion.

Hilda found June quite endearing.

She silently accepted Harrell's thoughtful gesture.

Stepping into her private office, she was stunned. The interior design was impeccable. Not only did the office come with a private coffee lounge, but it also adjoined a massive art studio. The painting she had previously sold to Mr. Whitman for a pittance was now hanging on the right wall.

Hilda walked over and gently touched the canvas.

—She understood Harrell's intent.

Mr. Whitman didn't deserve to own her artwork.

A faint mist gathered in her eyes. "That night," she asked softly, "did you beat him up pretty badly?"

Harrell chuckled. "Beat him black and blue."

Hilda turned and looked into his eyes.

Harrell stood there, smiling.

Looking every bit the refined gentleman.

But there was something else in his gaze.

Hilda was a mature woman; she wasn't oblivious to it. But this was Luther's cousin. Besides, since the man hadn't openly declared anything, it was impossible for her to explicitly reject him.