Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love novel Chapter 28

Hearing that, Rosemary was so mad she was at a loss for words. Finally, she slammed down the phone with a thud. That jerk really couldn't spit out a single nice word from his fricking mouth!

But 300 million was no chump change. How could she scramble up that amount in no time? Rosemary was seriously ticked off. In the end, she hailed a cab to Yolanda's antique shop. The staff there all knew her, "Ms. Chambers, the manager's upstairs."

"Alright, thanks."

She headed upstairs. Yolanda had just walked a customer to the staircase and did a double-take when she saw her, "What brings you here at this hour?"

Later, Rosemary flopped onto the sofa, deflated, and gave Yolanda the gist of the situation. Yolanda was gobsmacked!

"That guy's such a lowlife, huh? Is the Templeton Group going belly up or something, trying to nickel and dime a lady now?"

What Maxwell was thinking, Rosemary didn't have a clue. As for the Templeton Group, far from going bankrupt, they were actually thriving.

Yolanda pressed on, "So what's your game plan?"

"What else can I do? Pay up."

It was spelled out clear as day in the divorce agreement: the debt was hers alone from before the marriage, and she had to settle it to be square.

Yolanda was still fuming, "But you married him in the first place just to get out of this debt, right? Or is Maxwell pulling all these stunts because he doesn't want to divorce?"

Rather than not wanting a divorce, Rosemary'd prefer to think he just wanted his money back.

"Why not just stay married? Maxwell may be a jerk, but he's got the looks and the cash. He lets you swipe the card without a care and doesn't even ask you to do wifey duties. Lots of gals would kill for that."

Rosemary's mind wandered, but recalling the soul-sucking three years of marriage, her face clearly showed her disgust, "Divorce was my call. Yolanda, keep an eye out for me, will ya? If any decent gigs come up, snag 'em for me."

She needed cash, stat. The studio paid a fixed wage, and most of the restoration was on archaeological finds meant for museums, not exactly a gold mine. To rake in the dough, she'd have to take on private jobs.

Yolanda was silent for a beat, sensing Rosemary's resolve. Something came to mind, but her expression turned a bit sheepish, "I've actually got a job for you, but I'm afraid you might not want it."

Rosemary was puzzled, "Is it tough?"

"It's Victoria who's looking for you." Hearing that name made Rosemary frown. Yolanda added, "She's been asking around for you lately, even approached other restorers, but her painting is so badly damaged; hardly anyone dares to take it on. And those who do aren't sure they can actually fix it."

Rosemary remembered the last time she saw Victoria in the studio, coming to see Oswald about Rose. She would have refused before, but now.

"How much is she offering?"

Yolanda flashed a number, a pretty hefty commission by industry standards.

"Dance really does pay the bills." Rosemary mused, her lips curling into a dazzling smile, "Contact her, add another zero, and I'm in."

Yolanda caught on, and gave her a shocked thumbs-up. Ruthless! She turned right around to make the call, not to Victoria directly, but to leak a hint to their circle. Victoria had been burning bridges left and right to find Rose.

Soon enough, Victoria was on the phone, super polite, "Hello, are you Rose's agent?"

Yolanda spoke in a hushed tone, "Yes."

After half an hour of haggling, she gestured an “OK” to Rosemary, who was sitting by, "But she has one condition: it must be restored within two months."

With the clock ticking, Rosemary set up a time and place with the other party to pick up the painting.

She had to go fetch it herself, to check its authenticity and avoid any handover issues. Once at Victoria's place and her purpose explained, Victoria turned extremely shocked!

"You're picking up something for Rose? I don't buy it. Where is she?”

“Do you think she’s too idle to come herself? I'm her assistant, in charge of these matters." Rosemary didn't want to waste another word on her and got straight to the point, "Where's the painting?"