Chapter 487
Chapter 487:
He knew she was pretending, and the problem with pretending was that it didn’t last. She’d slip up soon enough.
There was no way a country girl like her knew anything about art. She was clearly trying to impress his grandfather!
What a hypocrite. He secretly scoffed.
As Curran enthusiastically described each painting, his passion was clear.
Conversations like these—connecting generations through shared interests—brought him great joy.
When they finished discussing the paintings downstairs, Curran insisted on showing Fernanda his private collection in the study. Fernanda naturally agreed.
“None of you are coming,” Curran declared to the others. “Talking to you lot is like talking to brick walls. Stay here and amuse yourselves.” After taking a few steps, he turned back once more and added with a teasing grin, “A group of dull souls.”
The group stared after him, speechless.
As soon as Curran and Fernanda disappeared upstairs, Julio sprawled back on the sofa, muttering, “So now we’re the dull ones?”
“You always are,” Bobby quipped without looking his way. “Did you even understand what they were talking about?” Julio stiffened, momentarily silent.
“I understood the words,” he grumbled defensively. “Just… not the meaning when they’re put together.” Bobby smirked. “Exactly.”
Unwilling to let it go, Julio huffed, “It doesn’t mean I’m dull. I’m just young and less experienced.”
“True,” Bobby replied with mock seriousness. “Otherwise, how else could your literature essay be that poor?”
After Curran led Fernanda into his study, he opened a cabinet. Retrieving a box, he unlocked it and waved Fernanda over with a mischievous grin.
Lᴉtєst ϲhαptєrs in g𝓪lnov𝑒l𝑆.𝗰o𝓂
Fernanda tiptoed closer and crouched beside him.
“These are my treasures,” Curran murmured, his voice a whisper of intrigue. “I rarely share them with anyone.”
“Oh, really?” Fernanda echoed his hushed tone, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Then I’m truly honored.”
Curran settled onto the floor and gently took a painting from the box. As he showed it, his eyes lit up with pride. “What do you think? Beautiful, isn’t it?”
Fernanda nodded vigorously. “Absolutely stunning.”
Together, they sat on the carpet, huddled like kids swapping secrets, as they pored over Curran’s prized collection of paintings.
After a while, as Curran began to pack away the paintings, he paused and looked at Fernanda. “Do any of these catch your eye? Choose one; it’s yours.”
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