?<strong>Chapter 432:</strong>


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    Under the watchful eyes of everyone in the room, he carefully opened the long mahogany box he had been holding.


    In the bright, almost dazzling light, a paintingy nestled inside, its brilliance captivating the room.


    “Ms. rke, here is the painting you requested,” Sherman said, gently lifting the artwork from its box. “It is thest surviving original by Mr. Gregory Lloyd, Mr. Ken Lloyd’s grandfather.”


    Allison paused. She hadn’t anticipated that the painting would be from Ken’ste grandfather, Gregory.


    It dawned on her that she had recognized the artist’s signature by coincidence, having seen a simr piece at the Lloyd family estate. That memory had led her to contact Ken to borrow it, and now, standing before her was Gregory’s other work, a legacy that had withstood time.


    “It’s my fault.” Keanu spoke softly, gripping his cane for support as a servant helped him approach the painting. “My old friend, Gregory, was a true artist, unparalleled in skill, yet by the time he passed, only these two paintings remained.”


    His voice trailed off.


    In truth, Gregory had spent his lifeboring tirelessly, sacrificing for his family.


    Even in death, he left behind a few physical remnants of his artistry.


    As Keanu’s hand lightly grazed the canvas, he was transported back to the carefree days of their youth.


    “I never thought I’d have the chance to see another one of his works,” he whispered, his eyes reddening with emotion.


    “Ken, I thank you, but this painting is far too precious,” Keanu added, hesitating.


    Sensing the weight of the moment, Allison finally spoke up. “Mr. Lloyd,”


    Allison turned toward the doorway, addressing Ken with a calm but serious tone, echoing Keanu’s concerns. “I borrowed this painting from you to help restore another that’s been damaged.”


    She began exining the restoration process to Ken, carefully outlining the possible risks.


    “You’ll need to reference and even trace your painting. Despite our best efforts, there’s no absolute guarantee that an ident won’t ur…”


    At this point, the unpredictable risks of the situation were bing increasingly evident.


    Allison, having just learned that this painting was Gregory’s final masterpiece, felt a responsibility to make everything crystal clear.


    “If you have second thoughts, it’s not toote to change your mind,” she added.


    She braced herself for the possibility that Ken might retract his offer.


    She respected his choice.


    After all, this piece was not just any painting; it was a relic of his family’s legacy, something irreceable.


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