Chapter 2

Upon receiving Irene’s reply, Professor Alan Smith, on the other side of the ocean, was overjoyed. "That’s wonderful, Irene! I’m truly proud of you. This project needs young people like you—talented and willing to go to war-torn regions to restore artifacts."

"However, this project is dangerous; you will be stationed in remote areas of the Middle East. Will your guardian let you go? I’ve heard the Thorne family is very strict with its members."

Irene tightened her grip on the phone. Her voice was steady and firm. "I don't need his permission. I’m an adult; I can be responsible for myself."

After hanging up, Irene felt as if all strength had been drained from her body. She stumbled slightly, leaning against the wall of the hospital corridor. Yet, when she turned around, she collided with Gabriel’s hard chest.

Startled, she hurriedly stepped back, only to see Gabriel frowning. He asked, "Who were you talking to? What are you joining?"

She feigned calm and replied, "Oh, my tutor asked if I wanted to participate in a summer art camp."

He didn't probe further, coldly tossing out a sentence: "The surgery is scheduled for next week. Until then, I’m taking Chloe back to the manor to recuperate."

Then he paused, as if remembering something, and his tone turned even icier. "Also, I don't wish to see those inexplicable handmade cookies on my desk anymore. It might cause Chloe unnecessary misunderstandings."

Irene turned her head away, her fingernails digging deep into her palms. She whispered bitterly, "Understood."

Ever since being caught stealing that kiss, she had personally baked Gabriel’s favorite cranberry cookies every week. Every cookie was infused with the words she wanted to say but dared not.

However, the destination of every heartfelt gift was the trash can.

Despite this, Irene had stubbornly persisted.

But in Gabriel’s eyes, the sentiments she treated as treasures were merely troublesome and annoying entanglements.

Seeing her compliance, Gabriel said nothing more. He gave a few instructions to the driver and walked back to the ward.

An hour later, Irene saw Gabriel’s black Bentley at the hospital exit. She watched as he carefully protected Chloe while she settled into the back seat.

She rushed downstairs, arriving at the car just in time. She reached out to pull the door handle, only to watch helplessly as the car sped away right in front of her. All that was left for her was a cloud of exhaust and splashing muddy water.

She stood frozen in place, then received a new message from Gabriel: "Chloe is sensitive to smells. She doesn't like the scent of others in the car. Take a taxi back to the manor yourself."

The light in her eyes dimmed instantly. After putting down her phone, she hailed a passing yellow taxi. Once inside, she stared silently at the bustling New York streetscape outside the window.

The driver asked with concern, "Miss, the injury on your forehead looks quite red. Do you want me to stop if we pass a pharmacy?"

Irene shook her head, her expression growing increasingly gloomy.

Not a single one of her so-called "family" had given her a shred of concern; the only care she received came from a complete stranger. Thinking about it now, it was the height of irony.

When the car stopped at the gates of the Thorne Manor in Long Island, she got out and pushed open the ornate carved gates.

Upon entering, Gabriel was nowhere to be seen. Chloe was sitting on the velvet sofa in the living room, toying with a violin in her hands.

Irene looked closely and recognized it as the only keepsake her mother had left her—an antique handmade violin. She regarded it as her life, rarely even daring to touch it, keeping it locked in its case.

At this moment, Chloe was fiddling with the strings as if it were a toy.

Irene’s face went cold. She strode forward and extended her hand. "Give it back. Miss Beck, touching other people's private belongings without permission—is this your so-called debutante breeding?"

Chloe’s face darkened, but before she could speak, Gabriel’s voice drifted down from the second-floor study. "I told her to take it out. Chloe wants to learn the violin, and that one has a good tone. It is as she wishes."

"In fact, as long as it makes her happy, she has the right to use anything in this manor."

He walked down the stairs, stopping in front of Irene, sweeping his cold gaze over her face. Irene’s face went pale instantly.

Emboldened by his support, Chloe let out a smug, cold laugh. "It's just a battered old wooden violin. Since you want it so badly, here."

She reached out to hand it over, but the moment Irene reached to take it, Chloe loosened her fingers. The violin crashed heavily onto the marble floor.

With a crisp *snap*, the neck broke, and the body shattered.

"No!"

The violin was broken, and so was Irene’s heart. This was her mother’s legacy, her only connection to the past.

Her eyes bloodshot, she stared fixedly at the wreckage on the floor. Irene shoved Chloe aside, disregarding how wretched she looked, and dropped directly to her knees.

With trembling hands, she desperately tried to piece the fragments back together, but nothing could change the fact that it was destroyed.

Chloe covered her mouth in feigned shock, standing awkwardly to the side. She hadn't expected Irene to have such a huge reaction.

Gabriel frowned slightly. In all their years living together, this was the first time he had seen Irene so out of control.

But seeing Chloe’s frightened appearance, his brow furrowed deeper, and he soothed, "Enough. Chloe didn't mean to. How much was the violin? I’ll write a check to compensate you."