Tangled in His Obsession

Chapter 471

After the first snowfall, it truly felt like the grip of winter had taken hold.

Winter was a time for coziness, yet Seraphina, who had been coasting in a languid state for the better part of the year, found herself caught up in a whirlwind of activity as the cold season settled in.

The art gallery she managed was buzzing with preparations for a new exhibition. This time, the exhibition was set to take place at the renowned Sunburst City Art Museum, and the theme was a retrospective of masterpieces by the great painters from generations past.

Among the featured works were iconic pieces from the masters of the yesteryears, as well as contemporary contributions from artists like Malcolm and Carney Bennett.

The concept for the exhibition was the gallery’s manager’s idea, and she threw her full support behind it, immediately setting plans in motion and diving into the multifaceted preparations.

Admittedly, showcasing Carney alongside Malcolm and the legendary greats felt a tad premature, but Seraphina believed in Carney’s artistic merit and felt he more than deserved the honor. She was determined to realize the dreams and aspirations that Carney hadn’t lived to see fulfilled.

Her dedication meant that Seraphina was fully immersed in the event, dashing between organizers and exhibitors to secure as many prestigious pieces as possible.

But, work had a way of encroaching on family life, and Seraphina couldn’t help but feel she was neglecting home.

Valerio had his reservations about her absence, but when he learned she was doing it all in memory of his late grandfather, he understood and kept his peace.

The frenzy lasted until late December when Seraphina finally began delegating tasks, allowing herself some much-needed respite.

After all, Christmas was around the corner, as was the wedding day of Bowen and Tania. She needed to be at her best for their special day.

On a rare afternoon off, Seraphina returned home early. Content bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.

The housekeeper was busy in the kitchen, and Conway was sitting on the sofa, engrossed in a TV show. His surprise at her early arrival was evident as he teased, “Look who is back.”

Seraphina smiled, settling beside him and leaning on his shoulder with a sigh. “I’m beat, Grandpa.”

“You remember what it’s like to be tired?” Conway chortled. “Well, that’s good. I thought you’d forgotten with all the busyness.”

Detecting something in his tone, Seraphina looked up at him. “Grandpa, beating around the bush isn’t your style.”

Conway chuckled, then quizzed her, “Do you even know what day it is?”

“The 21st.”

“And tomorrow?”

“The 22nd.”

“And yesterday?”

Frowning, she replied, “The 20th… Are you testing a child?”

“Yes, the 20th,” Conway said with a twinkle in his eye. “And what day is that?”

“The 20th…?” Seraphina puzzled over the date until realization dawned, and her face fell.

Conway tapped her head lightly. “Remember now?”

She laughed awkwardly, replying, “It was my wedding anniversary with Leandro…”

“How could you forget something like that?” Conway chided. “The whole world remembers it, except you. Is that right?”

“I’ve been busy, and Leandro didn’t remind me…” she muttered, then gasped, remembering the jewelry set on her vanity the night before. “I thought it was a spontaneous gift from him…”

As she rambled, guilt set in. “Was he planning to celebrate with me?”

“You think he doesn’t know you’re busy?” Conway replied. “He expected you’d come home early, just this once. But you never did.”

“Why didn’t he tell me?” she protested. “If he had, I would’ve come home sooner…”

“Do you not know how much he indulges you?” Conway retorted.

After a pause, Seraphina turned to Conway. “He used to be different. Lately, he’s been… indulging me too much.”

Conway raised an eyebrow at her words. “Do you like this indulgent side of him, or not?”

She made a face. “I think I prefer him a bit colder and more… intense.”

As the words left her mouth, a chill ran down her spine. Despite the warm house, she felt a draft behind her neck. Turning around, she saw Leandro coming downstairs with a mug in hand. He glanced at her without expression, upping the chill factor.

“You’re back,” he said. “Do you want me to run a bath for you?”

Though his tone was calm, and his words unusually tender, a strange chill ran down Seraphina’s spine.

It seemed she still couldn’t get used to this version of Leandro.

“No need,” Seraphina replied, “I’m not in the mood for a bath right now.”

“Well, come up here. I’ve got a present for you,” Leandro said.

Gifts and guilt mingled uneasily in Seraphina’s mind as she followed him, sending pleading looks at Conway, who was suddenly engrossed in the TV.

As they ascended the stairs, she braced herself for the unknown, wondering what her indulgent husband had in store for her this time.

After climbing the stairs, she found herself in Leandro’s study.

Leandro, seated comfortably in his chair, pulled her close and flicked on his computer screen, “You’ve been planning that art exhibition, right? Well, it just so happens I know a famous collector. He’s got a catalogue of paintings and he’s willing to loan out three for your show.”

Seraphina leaned in eagerly, scrutinizing the screen.

The collector in question, a friend of Leandro’s, had several masterpieces at his disposal. Just one of these on display would be a sensation.

Overcome with joy, Seraphina couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt.

She turned to face Leandro, “Are you sure you want to give me such a generous gift?”

“What are you doubting?” Leandro inquired.

After a moment’s hesitation, Seraphina spoke cautiously, “I… I forgot our anniversary.”

“Hmm,” Leandro responded nonchalantly.

“I didn’t even remember when I saw your gift.”

“Hmm.”

“And I didn’t get you anything,” she admitted.

Leandro continued to look at her calmly, “So what?”

“Shouldn’t you be angry or upset?” Seraphina pressed, “I’d almost prefer if you were cold and distant instead of this gentle, okay?”

Leandro heard her, reached out to gently lift her chin and said slowly, “You like me better cold-hearted, don’t you?”

Seraphina hesitated, then slowly nodded.

Leandro leaned closer, his voice deep, “Well, I won’t be.”

As he spoke, he tenderly nibbled on Seraphina’s earlobe. Realizing she had been played, Seraphina’s temper flared, and she decided it was time for a showdown!

After their intense exchange, Seraphina was left feeling sore and utterly drained, leaning against Leandro without the will to move.

It wasn’t until Valerio came home from school that Seraphina mustered the energy to get up.

Having been busy for a while, and finally having a day at home, the family settled in the upstairs lounge for some quality time after dinner.

Valerio had a pile of things to share with Seraphina, including the latest drawing techniques he was itching to show her.

When Valerio took out everything, he suddenly realized he was out of red paint.

“There’s some on the bookshelf in my room,” Seraphina suggested, “Go get it yourself.”

Valerio bounced to his feet and dashed toward Seraphina’s room with glee.

It was a short trip just to fetch some paint, but he took over two minutes to return.

When he did, it wasn’t with paint but with a sketchbook that seemed far too mature for his small frame.

“Mom, whose sketchbook is this?” Valerio asked as he emerged from the room.

Seraphina, who had been thumbing through his drawings, looked up sharply at the mention of “sketchbook” and her face paled when she saw what Valerio was holding.

“Put that back where you found it!” she said urgently, “Weren’t you supposed to get paint? Why were you rummaging through my stuff?”

Valerio hesitated, unsure of what to do. Leandro glanced at Seraphina’s uneasy demeanor and told Valerio, “Bring it here, let me take a look.”

“Don’t give it to him!” Seraphina protested.

With his mom and dad giving conflicting instructions, Valerio was confused about what to do.

Seraphina quickly got up and snatched the sketchbook from Valerio’s hands, hiding it behind her back as she was about to lecture him. But before she could, it was gone from her grasp.

She spun around to find Leandro had taken the sketchbook.

“Hey—” Seraphina tried to intervene, but it was too late. Leandro had already opened the sketchbook.

The only painting it contained was a warm and vivid watercolor.

The composition was rich in warm hues, dominated by the cozy yellow of streetlights—

Under the glow of those streetlights, amidst a flurry of snowflakes, were silhouettes of a tall man, an elegant woman, and a small child walking hand in hand along a quiet street.

“Ah, that’s me!” Valerio pointed excitedly at the small figure, then to the man and woman beside it, “And that’s Dad, and Mom—It’s so beautiful, did you paint this, Mom?”

Seraphina couldn’t help but cover her face with her hands.

Leandro studied the painting for a long time.

It was her work. He knew her style all too well. This painting was undoubtedly from her hand.

Sandra Smith once told him that after leaving Sunburst City eight years ago, she had stopped painting because all her work inevitably depicted him, and so she had given up painting completely.

After returning to Sunburst City, she occasionally picked up the brush to teach Valerio, but never seriously painted anything again. Now, she had once again taken up the brush to create this piece.

The painting held the past, the present, and the future.

At last, she could let go of her past entirely, and for him, it was the greatest satisfaction.

“So, you did prepare a gift.” Leandro spoke softly, “Why hide it?”

Seraphina frowned at him—she really didn’t want this painting to be seen by anyone, even Leandro and Valerio. It was too sentimental, not at all in keeping with her usual tough persona!

“I love this painting,” Leandro said, “I’m keeping it.”