Love Coming from the Least Expected

Chapter 621

My heart was filled with dissatisfaction and grievances. I couldn’t bear the thought of turning around and arguing with Isabelle about what she said to me. However, it was only recently that my mother and I were able to mend our relationship. I didn’t want to have to go to war with her again.

I forced myself to calm down, then turned to Isabelle, and said, “Mom, can you tell me why? If you could just tell me the reason, I can do whatever you want.”

“I’m sorry… but I can’t tell you right now.” Isabelle sighed deeply. NôvelDrama.Org holds this content.

“You’re not even going to tell me why?” Even though I was heartbroken, I forced myself to smile.

“Do you know how much I enjoy drawing, Mom? I place all my dreams and hopes on my paintings. Both you and Dad were not by my side when I was a child and the Tanners saw me as an outsider. Every time there was a celebration, it was always me who was left alone in a corner to hear Yvette and the others’ laughter. At that time, I tried hard to convince myself that everything was fine, and that was because I still had my paintings.”

I continued, “I always include many people in the backgrounds of my paintings. Some of them would be waiting for me, talking to me, or simply smiling at me. I’ve also drawn some lonely people because their presence would make me feel less abandoned. You now want me to give one of my paintings to someone else. Do you understand what that means to me?”

Isabelle responded softly, “I understand.”

“You don’t understand, Mom. I’m really upset about it. You can’t even give me one reason for doing this.”

“It’s all my fault!”

Despite her admittance, however, Isabelle was unwavering. She still looked determined and did not want to compromise at all. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before turning to her and handing over the unsigned painting. “I’m hoping this is the last time, Mom.”

I dashed out of the room with my ruined painting as I finished speaking.

When I opened the door, I was surprised to see Crystal standing in the hallway. She was also taken aback when she saw me running out of the room with my eyes welling up with tears. However, she reacted to it quickly and flashed me an annoyingly triumphant smile.

She then raised her thumb at me and slowly pointed it to the ground. She whispered, “You can see that you’ve lost again, can’t you? Yvonne, you’re going to lose everything to me sooner or later. Do you believe it?”

Suddenly, I lifted my hand and slapped Crystal with all my strength. The sound of the slap, mixed with Crystal’s scream, echoed in the hallway. Even after I did that, I still felt enraged.

So this is what the bet is about This Crystal is really crafty. Even my Mom is on her side. I don’t know what she has done to get this opportunity, but I still feel beaten by it.

Why must it be Crystal? Crystal Yates!

“Yvonne, you dare to slap me! I can tell you right now that you will not be arrogant for long. You’ll always be that poor little girl begging at my feet.”

“The things you stole will never be yours. I don’t care how you got Mom to agree to it, but if you think a painting can change your life, you’re dreaming.”

“Eve!” The clacking sound of high heels could be heard, followed by footsteps going down the stairs. I did not want to see Isabelle at the moment so I ignored Crystal’s provocation, turned around, and stormed out of the Goldstein residence.

I’m no longer able to understand my mother. What’s more important to her? Are certain benefits really that important to a point she is willing to sacrifice everyone, including her family? If so, what’s the difference between me and a string puppet?

It was raining when I stormed out of the Goldstein residence. Then a servant came over and handed me an umbrella, but I did not take it. I just stormed into the rain. All I could hear behind me was the worried servant’s shouts. However, it was not her voice that I wanted to hear.

The cold raindrops fell on me but they did not wash away my rage. Instead, it revealed all my repressed feelings and made me yell at the sky. In my head, I was mulling over a question: Am I really Isabelle’s daughter?