She Was Never Just a Pretty Face novel Chapter 51

After Hilda left.

In the cafe, Sylvan Cassidy looked utterly disappointed. "I had no idea she had become like this."

The Lovell sisters exchanged a glance.

Yara Lovell feigned magnanimity. "She grew up sheltered with her mother and hasn't seen much of the world, so it's normal for her to be a bit short-sighted. You shouldn't be angry, Sylvan. The most important thing right now is comforting Jolie."

Mina Lovell sighed as well. "I'm not worried about Jolie; she's always been outstanding, and recently she's even been in touch with Naomi Zeller and The Bibliophile. As for Hilda, I'm truly worried she's going down the wrong path. The fact that she had an illegitimate child with someone else... the truth will come out eventually. When people find out, Luther probably won't tolerate her anymore."

These words were actually a probe.

Sylvan let out a heavy sigh. "If that day comes, she'll only have herself to blame for reaping what she sowed."

...

Sitting in a corner was a wealthy, plump woman.

It was none other than Mrs. Whitman, the wife of Mr. Whitman, whose family had been utterly ruined by Harrell Judson.

She stared at the family in absolute disbelief.

—They actually didn't seem to know that Hilda was The Bibliophile.

None of them knew the news.

She and her husband had been completely silenced by Harrell and didn't dare breathe a word of it to anyone.

This entire family, and even Luther, seemed to treat Jolie like some precious treasure. In reality, Hilda was The Bibliophile—she was about to become the most sought-after figure in the art world. Furthermore, did Luther even know how much Harrell had been elevating and supporting Hilda? Also, she had taken a secret peek at that little brat, and the kid looked exactly like Luther. If she wasn't Luther's flesh and blood, whose could she possibly be?

The Whitmans had fallen out with Luther.

Otherwise, she absolutely would have gone to the Sanford estate's banquet just to watch the drama unfold.

...

It took Hilda half an hour to digest everything.

Then, she buried herself in her studio.

Evening arrived.

In the sky, sunset clouds drifted like painted strokes.

Hilda murmured softly, "Harrell Judson."

Harrell replied—

"Call me Harrell."

"No matter what kind of relationship we have, it's perfectly appropriate for you to call me Harrell, isn't it?"

...

Hilda felt even more dazed.

Afterward, Harrell said a lot more.

He told her that before her divorce was finalized, he would never force her to make a choice. They would remain strictly business partners, but she could come to him for any personal matters. His phone would be on twenty-four hours a day. What woman wouldn't be moved by that kind of blatant favoritism? Especially after having her heart completely broken by Luther.

But...

Hilda gently closed her eyes. "You're Luther's cousin."