When Penelope Steele returned to the Steele Manor, the first thing she did was instruct the servants to send the painting into the collection room. That priceless Jason Smith work was like a treasure she had accidentally fished out of a river. It deserved a proper place, a proper frame, and proper protection.
Only after making sure it was safely stored did she change into comfortable home clothes and walk out of the collection room.
The moment she entered the living room, she sensed something was off.
Philip Steele was sitting on the sofa with a stern expression, his brows drawn together, his military aura practically filling the room. Even though he was old, the sharpness in his eyes had not faded in the slightest.
His face was so dark that it looked like he had just come back from a battlefield defeat.
Penelope Steele paused and asked calmly, "What's wrong? Why do you look like you're about to swallow someone alive the moment I come home?"
