Chapter 366 The One I Can't Let Go of
"Big talk for a salesperson. Do you even get Quinn Couture?"
Simon stared at her, momentarily speechless. Well… she was right about one thing—he didn't know much about Quinn Couture. But he knew Catherine.
Thora's smirk deepened, her voice dripping with disdain. "Even if someone spends obscene amounts of money, someone utterly vulgar, with no culture or refinement, will never grasp the soul of Quinn."
Catherine rested her chin on her hand, smiling faintly. "And you do?"
"Of course I do! Quinn's pieces are pure energy—cosmic treasures. Every time I see one, I feel as if my soul has been cleansed. Quinn must be expressing a vision—chasing freedom and the highest form of beauty."
She tilted her head, her tone turning condescending. "Didn't you grow up in the countryside? No wonder you can't appreciate such sophisticated art."
Simon's lips twitched. He'd worked with Catherine for years. He knew exactly where those designs came from—half of them were sketches she scribbled when she hit a bottleneck in her experiments. Freedom of the soul? Please.
Thora kept going, her voice rising, analyzing Quinn Couture's philosophy with the confidence of a self-proclaimed expert. And of course, she ended with a parting shot. "People like you will never understand art."
"You have food stuck in your teeth," Catherine said evenly.
The silence was immediate and absolute. Then Thora let out a strangled scream, clutching her face before vanishing deeper into the boutique. Lyra and the others scrambled after her, terrified something had happened.
Simon exhaled a laugh. "Ms. Windsor, I think she's actually a fan. If she knew she just insulted you to your face, she'd probably cry harder."
"Her feelings are none of my concern," Catherine replied.
She was here today because she had promised the Windsor family she would make them some clothes. Juniper had begged her for days, insisting on wearing one of Catherine's designs to the upcoming scientific summit—to show it off in front of her idol.
"Clear out a workspace for me," Catherine said.
"Don't worry, Ms. Windsor. No one would dare touch your workroom."
As Catherine headed toward the studio, Simon could barely contain his excitement. Every time she visited, she left behind new designs. This quarter's sales figures had already put a permanent smile on his face. With fresh sketches from Catherine, next quarter was looking even better.
The Howard Mansion.
Arabella sat in a wicker chair, stacks of documents spread across the small table beside her. A pair of reading glasses perched on her nose as she flipped through page after page, jotting down notes whenever she found something useful.
Felix watched her for a while, frowning. "You've been at this all day. What exactly are you trying to do?"
"Shut your mouth and stop distracting me."
He knew her temper well and didn't take offense. Chuckling, he brought over a cup of tea—only to realize she was poring over Franklin's research papers from the past few years.
"Why are you reading his work? That man's never written anything worth a damn."
"I'm preparing to bring him down. Thoroughly. You never know which evidence will be needed, so I'm collecting everything."
She wanted Franklin to fall in every possible way. No recovery. No second chances.
Felix shook his head. "You're too old to be stirring up trouble like this."
"Exactly. I'm too old not to. If I don't do it now, I'll be dead before I get the chance. Either get out of my way or help me."
Crude, yes—but not wrong.
He sighed, sat down, and glanced over the papers. "If you think these alone will topple Franklin, you're mistaken."
"I don't need your opinion. I've already contacted a few old friends. The upcoming scientific summit is going to be… lively."
Seeing she was set on her course, Felix didn't argue. He just watched her, the way her brows furrowed in concentration, and for a moment it was as if the years had fallen away—back to when they had faced the world together, side by side.
His gaze softened with something like regret. When he finally spoke, it was half to himself, his voice low as he leaned on his cane and walked away.
"A lifetime passes, and there's always something left undone. I didn't marry you because of Elodie. She told me you loved money and that I should use it to win you over. Arabella… you're the one I could never bear to lose."
Arabella's hands trembled as she turned the next page. She pretended she hadn't heard, but her fingers shook too much to hold the paper steady, and her vision blurred.
It had to be age, she told herself. Just age. Nothing more.
No romance left—only the quiet weight of mortality, and the unspoken affection that had lasted half a lifetime.
Imperia City. The International Grand Hotel.
The annual Scientific Summit was in full swing, its attendees a carefully curated list of the brightest minds in research. Only those with invitations could enter.
Walking in with Juniper, Catherine drew more than a few glances. With Samuel and Grace flanking her, it didn't take long for people to guess—she had to be the Windsor family's daughter. Apparently, she had an interest in science as well.
Juniper kept craning her neck, scanning the crowd. "Do you think my idol will actually show up today? I even put on makeup for this…"
For someone who spent most of her life barefaced in a lab, Juniper had woken up early just to get ready. That alone said everything about how much she admired Alioth.
Catherine gave her a small smile, tugging her gently. "Wait and see. Maybe she'll come."
"You don't understand, Catherine. Alioth is a pioneer—her ideas are years ahead of their time, but she always has the data to back them up. She's incredible."
Catherine's lips curved ever so slightly.
Across the room, Franklin rolled in on his wheelchair, pushed by Ethan, with Dashiell trailing behind, his expression dark enough to curdle milk.
Juniper, all innocence, tilted her head. "Dashiell, you look terrible. Didn't sleep well?"
Terrible was an understatement. He'd wanted to storm over in the middle of the night to demand why Juniper had sabotaged his business. He had worked hard to topple Tiberius and secure his place in the Harrison family. Now it had all gone up in smoke.
His eyes were bloodshot, his smile thin and strained. His business had been on the verge of a major breakthrough—until the Windsor family, the Howard family, and the Galactic Aurora Collective had united to crush his operations. Now no one in the industry would touch him.
Grinding his teeth, he locked eyes with Catherine. "Ms. Windsor, do you have any idea what I did to offend the Galactic Aurora Collective? They've left me with no way out."
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