?<strong>Chapter 433:</strong>


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    But Ken’s expression remained steady.


    “Ms. rke, I trust you,” he replied, his voice calm and certain, carrying a familiar steadiness.


    Allison’s eyebrows lifted slightly as she watched him approach. His polished ck shoes made quiet, deliberate steps across the carpet, until he stopped directly in front of the mahogany desk.


    Ken’s eyes met hers, and a faint smile curved at the corner of his lips. “Because if it’s you, I know you would never let anything happen to it.” His trust was absolute.


    The room fell silent.


    Colton, watching from the side, frowned as he felt a tightness in his chest.


    He had been ready to scoff at Ken’s confidence, but his train of thought was interrupted by a delicate fragrance as Mny leaned against his shoulder. “Colton, I’m feeling a bit dizzy. Let me rest on you for a moment,” she murmured, her voice soft and pleading.


    Despite her gentle tone, Mny’s mind was swirling. She had noticed Colton’s gaze, and it was unmistakable that he looked at Ken as though he were a rival. But Allison smiled in response to Ken. “Of course,” she said with quiet resolve.


    She wouldn’t betray the trust Ken and Keanu had ced in her.


    “Roderick, let’s begin!” she called, ready to tackle the next stage of the restoration.


    With that, Allison carefully unfolded the painting that Ken had brought.


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    A breathtaking winterndscape was revealed, grand and magnificent, leaving the room awestruck at its beauty. It was truly a masterpiece.


    “Remarkable,” Allison muttered under her breath, her eyes wide with admiration.


    It wasn’t often she voiced such awe, but this painting—this masterpiecemanded it. With a determined exhale, she readied herself to dive in.


    Sherman, who usually kept his thoughts to himself, felt the urge to speak up. “Ms. rke, this painting by Mr. Lloyd has been regarded as a priceless gem for decades.”


    The weight of his words settled into the room like a heavy fog, and the quiet murmur of onlookers grew hushed. Everyone was nervous.


    One wrong move, and the painting’s delicate history could be forever altered.


    Allison, however, remained calm. She picked up a magnifying ss, her focus razor-sharp as she examined the intricate details before her.


    “Alright, I’ll be as careful as humanly possible,” she said, fully aware of what was at stake.


    The room seemed to hold its breath as she scrutinized Gregory’s work.


    Years of an artist’s life, distilled into each brushstroke,y beneath her eyes—art so masterful that even the smallest imperfection revealed profound truths.


    Around her, a handful of highly skilled artisans were assisting, inscribing letters on clean sheets of parchment. But as the minutes stretched into hours, Allison decided to entrust one of the masters with the critical task of restoring a particr section.


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