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Chapter 115 Ethan, the heir to Arnold Corporation, was gradually stepping into his role, his presence growing in the media. Having been out of the public eye for years, his return caused the internet to go wild with viral speculation.
After cooking for the first time, Ethan found himself intrigued by it. To his left was a platter of pastries made by Madelyn, to his right a pile of recipes bought by George. He was so engrossed in it that he reached out to grab another pastry.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt“You've eaten them all, Mr. Ethan.” George reminded him.
Ethan glanced over. True enough, all that remained were crumbs.
“You seem to be interested in learning to cook, Mr. Ethan.” “And what do you think I'm doing?” George looked surprised. “Are you learning to cook for Ms. Jent?” Ethan mused, knowing that no one would like a man who could not walk. He figured if Madelyn would enjoy his cooking, he could cook for her. For some reason, a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
‘Look at what I'm doing. I'm acting like some desperate man trying everything to woo her. Isn't it a bit too soon?’ he thought.
“Sir.” The bodyguard entered the room.
Ethan responded. “Go ahead.” As the bodyguard quickly relayed the information he had, Ethan's gaze slowly hardened, revealing his deep-seated anger and simmering hostility. “So that’s the life she’s living with the Jents?” “We could move Ms. Jent into the room next door, prevent unnecessary disturbances.” “Isn't that a bit obvious?” Ethan asked.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm“She'll be discharged soon,” the bodyguard replied.
George pondered and said, “She’s emotionally unstable. We should think of ways to make her feel better.” “Do you have any suggestions?” “She enjoys painting, and likely art exhibitions too. | recall Edward Waltz will be hosting an exhibition in Ventropolis soon.” Edward Waltz was the most influential painter internationally, whose painting Ashes once fetched over $50 million. His exhibitions happened once a year, each time in a different region. The tickets were a hot commodity.
Ethan's fingers tapped the armrest of his wheelchair. “Leyton, get in touch with Edward Waltz. We need those tickets by tonight.” “Right away.” The collaborator for the exhibition was none other than Arnold Corporation-getting the tickets would not be a problem. Ethan was always efficient in his work, and within three hours, tickets were delivered to the SereneCare Hospital.
Madelyn was handed two tickets, and she could hardly believe it. “Are these tickets really for me?” The deliverer, a woman in a business suit, flashed a professional smile. “Indeed, Ms. Jent. We held a lottery for Edward Waltz's fans on internet sweepstake. You were the lucky one chosen by our studio, and we've included a signed photo album of Mr.
Edward Waltz's works since’ 84, which is part of the prize.” It felt like a dream. Edward Waltz had been her mother’s favorite painter, yet even she had never managed to attend his exhibition. A rare smile appeared on Madelyn’s face, overwhelmed with joy.
“Make sure to attend, Ms. Jent. There might be even more surprises in store.”