Goodbye, My Love

Chapter 9---It's Not That Impressive

On the day of Elena Peterson's art exhibition, Madeline Cook spent over an hour perfecting her makeup. Her long, soft hair was styled into a fishtail braid trailing down her back, with only a few wisps framing her temples. She wore a loose, peach-colored silk blouse paired with a green ankle-length skirt—radiating French elegance with a touch of effortless sensuality.

When Xavier saw her, he let out a playful whistle. "Sis. Jenkins, when are you going to find a boyfriend? Can I at least get a token so I can join the queue?"

Madeline smiled faintly. "Don't be silly."

"I'm serious."

He removed his sunglasses and looked down at her—genuinely earnest.

Madeline hesitated. She had no intention of starting a relationship, let alone involving herself with a rising star from her own company.

She didn't reply, instead stepping directly into the Maserati.

Xavier didn't mind. The brief awkwardness melted away. "Sis. Jenkins, don't worry—Wendy already told me everything. Today, I'll make sure you cause a little disruption!"

Madeline exhaled in relief and gave him a small smile. "Counting on you."

"No problem!"

The blue Maserati roared to life, pulling up dramatically in front of Elena Peterson's gallery, turning heads as it arrived.

Madeline unbuckled her seatbelt, stepped out in high heels, and linked her arm with Xavier's as they walked inside.

Security guards at the entrance stopped them. "Sir, Miss, please show your invitation."

Madeline retrieved the invitation from her handbag and handed it over. After verification, they were allowed in.

Today's exhibition featured not only Elena's works but also masterpieces borrowed from other renowned artists, so entry was strictly by invitation.

Though the Peterson family wasn't as prominent as the Cooks, they were still one of Avenis's most affluent families.

Elena's gallery spanned nearly five hundred square meters, with annual rent nearing three million. The interior design was equally lavish—Madeline recognized the chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Designed by an Italian artist, that single fixture alone was worth over one million.

Display cases had been rearranged to open up space for guests to move freely and view the art.

Admittedly, Elena's paintings were somewhat interesting, though Madeline couldn't quite grasp them.

As the Peterson heiress, the exhibition naturally drew numerous media outlets.

Xavier was dressed simply—a white shirt, casual peach-colored straight-leg trousers, and sunglasses. Reporters didn't recognize him at first.

Upstairs, Madeline spotted Elena from afar. She wore a French-style floral long dress, her hair flowing down her back, looking gentle and charming.

Mr. Cook hadn't arrived yet, and Elena kept glancing down the stairs.

Madeline and Xavier walked deeper into the second floor and discovered an open-air balcony.

Three sun umbrellas stood there, each with chairs and stools underneath. Beside them was a painted wall, and tucked into a corner was a refreshment station offering free drinks and desserts.

Most guests were downstairs, so the area was quiet.

Madeline glanced at Xavier. "Sit for a bit?"

"Sure!"

Art was too highbrow for Madeline to truly appreciate.

While others inside discussed Van Gogh and Da Vinci with lofty rhetoric, Madeline and Xavier chatted idly about the latest celebrity gossip.

Madeline wasn't as obsessed with entertainment news as Wendy Taylor, but she didn't mind listening occasionally.

With juice and cake on the table and a handsome companion by her side, Madeline thought she could stay here all afternoon.

But that was just wishful thinking—today, her real purpose was to stir up trouble for Grace Cook and her crew.

Madeline set her juice down and looked at Xavier. "The main characters should be arriving soon. Let's head back in."

Smiling, she picked up her bag and stood.

Before they could re-enter, Grace Cook's astonished voice rang out: "What are you doing here?!"

Seeing Madeline, Grace felt an indescribable sense of superiority, yet the sight of Madeline's unfairly beautiful face instantly stirred irritation within her.

So, as always, she couldn't resist taking a jab: "Do you even know where you are? Is this a place you belong? Did you come here because you knew my brother was attending, hoping to beg him to take you back?"

Grace grew more convinced of her own theory: "I'm telling you, forget it! If you want to remarry my brother, you'd better start by begging me. Maybe I'll put in a good word—though he still won't agree, at least he might listen to what you have to say!"

"How about it? My offer isn't bad, right? Since no one's around—"

Grace had been so focused on confronting Madeline that she hadn't noticed the man beside her—until now.

And that man looked strangely familiar. When she finally recognized Xavier, Grace's expression turned utterly dramatic.

"You—how can you be with Xavier?!"

Madeline didn't answer, merely glancing sideways at Xavier.

Xavier removed his sunglasses. "I'm here with Madeline."

"What—how—how could you?!"

Grace looked on the verge of tears.

Madeline remained silent, watching her like a clown.

After a moment, having had her fill of amusement, Madeline said, "Let's go."

Grace was nearly driven mad. She'd convinced herself the recent paparazzi photos were misaligned shots, telling herself Xavier had nothing to do with Madeline—and never would.

But now, she had seen it with her own eyes: her idol standing side by side with this woman.

How dare she! How could Madeline possibly deserve this?!

"Don't you dare leave!"

But no one listened. Madeline had already re-entered the gallery, Xavier following closely behind, the faintest smirk playing beneath his sunglasses as they leaned in, whispering to each other, clearly delighted.

Grace, eyes blazing with fury, snapped back to reality and rushed after them.

They hadn't gone far when Madeline and Xavier ran into Elena Peterson and Mr. Cook, trailed by a swarm of media journalists with cameras and video equipment.

For a brief moment, the atmosphere froze—until Elena broke the silence. "Ms. Jenkins, long time no see."

Madeline gave a slight nod. "Just had nothing better to do—came to take a look. The exhibition's not bad."

Elena feigned surprise. "I didn't expect Ms. Jenkins to appreciate my work. What an honor."

Such hypocrisy. Madeline had only said the exhibition was "not bad," yet Elena instantly claimed she "appreciated" her art. Her words carried no humility—only subtle mockery, making many believe she was ridiculing Madeline for pretending to understand art she clearly didn't.

Madeline raised an eyebrow. "I don't really understand art appreciation, but Xavier studied this before his debut."

She paused, then turned to Xavier. "What do you think of Ms. Peterson's paintings?"

"Not impressive."

Madeline shot him a look. "If you keep talking like that, Ms. Peterson might kick us out."

Elena's expression soured, but hearing Madeline's remark, she forced a smile. "Mr. Dorrington's critique is indeed accurate. Compared to him, I'm truly inferior."

Xavier didn't show an ounce of modesty. "Yes. That's why I had my agent decline your last collaboration offer. I hope you don't mind."

"N-no, not at all."

Madeline saw Elena gritting her teeth and decided to stop pushing. She glanced back at Xavier. "Fine, I should've known you wouldn't like it. Let's go. We're keeping Ms. Peterson from her guests."

"As you wish, Sis. Jenkins."

They turned and left, and from beginning to end, Madeline never once looked at the man standing beside Elena.

But Mr. Cook's dark gaze followed Madeline's every move. That "Sis. Jenkins" from Xavier rang in his ears like an insult.

What kind of relationship do they have? Why so intimate?