Chapter 794
Chapter 794:
Even Mariana’s painting had someone willing to pay eighty million for it. Maia’s work could not be worth any less.
Chris narrowed his eyes slightly, his mind already turning. He would place a high bid on Rebirth, high enough to preserve it forever.
Meanwhile, Alice stood speechless. Her eyes widened, brimming with awe. Slowly, she turned to Maia, her expression radiant with joy.
A warm flush colored her cheeks as realization dawned. So that was why… No wonder Maia spoke with such insight, with such intuitive depth. It had always been there. She had been a genius all along.
Alice’s admiration blossomed into reverence, sparkling in her eyes like sunlight on water.
A short distance away, Grover wiped at his brow, his panic barely concealed. Cold sweat clung to his skin.
The situation was quickly slipping beyond his control.
He stepped forward, lips parting to urge Maia to leave quietly once more — but she had already pulled out her phone. Holding the screen out toward him, steady and unbothered, she said coolly,
“Mr. Perez, this is the invitation you personally sent me. You can confirm my identity with this email, can you not p>
Grover leaned in, peering at the screen. His eyes flinched, and a gasp escaped him. He blinked, then furrowed his brows.
“Are you truly Matias Watts?” His voice trembled at the edges.
“Absolutely.” Maia lowered the phone and met his eyes, her tone sharp but calm. “I did not expect such treatment at an international art exhibition. I want a formal explanation from you — and from everyone who joined this farce. Otherwise, I will withdraw my painting p>
A hush swept through the room. Mariana’s jaw tightened. She was the first to break the silence.
Ⱡ𝗮𝗍𝙚𝕤𝖙 ς𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝗲𝖗𝗌
“That is absolutely impossible,” she snapped.
But almost instantly, suspicion flickered in her gaze. Her lips curled into a sneer.
“Did you forge that email? Do not think I don’t know your tricks, Maia. If you truly had the talent to create such a piece, how could you remain unknown? Either you’re impersonating Matias, or Matias is indeed you, but this Rebirth is definitely not your work. No matter how talented you claim to be, there is no way you developed this kind of skill while locked up for four years p>
Maia’s gaze sharpened. Her brow lifted slightly as she stared down Mariana, cold and unmoved.
Four years in prison could not have shaped this. That much was true. But she had not picked up a brush only after being incarcerated. She had loved painting since childhood.
The solitude. The silence. That had been her classroom. When her parents turned cold and distant, it was painting that helped her survive the ache. It calmed the noise in her chest and gave her breath beneath the weight.
Fame had never appealed to her — money even less. She sold her work only when necessity forced her hand, always under a pseudonym.
Vicki had adored her paintings. After she passed, Maia placed her remaining works in a wooden box and cremated them with Vicki. Her paintings were pieces of her soul, and she wanted them to travel with the one person who had cherished her.
Rebirth had been born inside those cold prison walls. It had taken over three years. Countless sleepless nights. Every brushstroke an exhale. Every detail a silent cry turned into color. Death and renewal. Grief and hope.