Chapter 618
After all, not long ago, she'd hit him with a brick.
Yet the old man hadn't pursued the matter at all-instead, he'd even made him apologize to Stella.
If that wasn't proof of how untouchable Stella was, nothing was.
The group piled into Sellers’ car.
Once everyone was settled, Sellers turned to Aurora.
"So, where am | dropping you off?"
Aurora glanced at Simone. "Simone, my dad hasn't seen you in ages. He's been saying he misses you. Why don't
you cstay at my place for a while?"
Simone didn't hesitate. "Sure, I'd love that."
The car eased onto the road.
Sherman, sitting in the front passenger seat, suddenly remembered that
mysterious buyer from earlier and couldn't help but ask, "Uncle, do you know who bought that painting?"
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtSellers shook his head. "No idea."
Sherman let out a low whistle. "What a sucker, honestly. Spending that kind of money on a single painting? | bet
they'll regret it one day."
Aurora chimed in, "Maybe not. If they're that wealthy, it's probably just pocket change just a little splurge on a
hobby. Doesn't mean much to them."
After all, she herself had been willing to offer ten million for that painting.
For someone like her, a trust fund heiress, ten million wasn't exactly small change.
It stung a little, but she could afford it.
The thing was, that was pretty much all her savings from the last few years.
And since she didn't want to go to her father or her brother for help, she had to draw the line there.
This painting was one of the rare pieces she'd never been able to get out of her mind.
If she ever got the chance, she'd love to meet Summer, the artist.
But Summer was just too mysterious.
She'd tried for ages to find any information, but kept coming up empty.
Speaking of mystery, Aurora thought of someone else.
She turned to Sherman. "By the way, did you find anything about that 'Racer A'l asked you to look into?"
"Racer A?" Sellers raised an eyebrow. Though he'd retired from professional racing, he still followed the sport in
his spare time.
He was clearly surprised. "Who is that? I've never even heard of them."
Sherman answered right away, "Honestly, if Henley hadn't askedabout this A,
I wouldn't know either."
Sellers’ brow furrowed. "Henley? You
mean Henley Holloway-the guy who almost won the Grand Slam a few years ago, then suddenly disappeared?"
Sherman nodded. "That's the one."
A strange look flickered across Sellers' face.
He'd been a professional racer himself—not that it was ever his main focus, since
he spent more trunning the company than on the track.
For him, racing had always been more of a serious hobby than a career.
Still, Sellers had been a prodigy since childhood. Whatever he did, if he cin second, no one else dared claim
first.
But in all his years behind the wheel, there was only one person he'd ever lost to: Henley.
Henley was a real professional, devoted to racing in a way Sellers never had the tfor.
Still, that one loss always stuck in Sellers’ mind.
He asked, "So why's he looking for this person? Did he lose to them?"
Sherman grinned. "Funny you ask-he really did lose to this mysterious A."
Sellers' eyes narrowed. "Was it an official race?"
nét
"No," Sherman replied, shaking his head. "Not officially. But it was a private showdown-his team against another.
Pretty serious stuff, even if it wasn't public." Sw
"Right in the middle of their race, srandom car bursts in and throws everything into chaos. Both teams had
their formation set, and this car just wrecked their rhytam. Everyone was furious, so they tried to box the
intruder in.
But guess what happened next?"
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