Isabella stared ahead for two seconds, her mind already spinning.
During the last inspection, the painting was perfectly fine.
She had even wrapped it herself with the proper packaging paper.
There was no way it could suddenly corrode overnight unless…
Unless someone did something.
Her gaze turned cold, and the warmth on her face disappeared completely.
"I understand," she said calmly.
The freshman looked at her with fear and admiration, then quickly ran away.
Isabella stood in place for a moment, her fingers unconsciously tightening.
Then she turned and walked straight toward the reception room, her steps fast and steady.
When she pushed open the door, she saw David Miller standing in front of a painting as tall as a person. His face was full of pain and anger, like someone watching their child get mutilated.
The moment David Miller saw Isabella step into the reception room, the resentment on his face instantly surged up like boiling oil.
