"Get out," Phillip said, his voice a cold command.
Sayaka was one of the rare Asian female photographers to make it into the annals of World Photography History, hailed as the Picasso of the Japanese photography world. Her work, known for its themes of dreams, beauty, sex, and death, bore a surreal and eerie style that marked her as unique.
Tina, who had always adored Sayaka's work, couldn't believe her luck when she heard that the artist, in her seventies and long retired, had decided to come out of her seclusion for an exhibition in Capital City. It had been nine years since her last show in Tokyo, and something mysterious had lured her back to the spotlight almost a decade later.
With nothing better to do at home, even considering pulling weeds from the garden for excitement, Tina wasn't about to miss the event. As she was about to head out, she nearly collided with Hamilton's car as he pulled into the driveway.
He looked at her through the car window with a stern expression. "Where do you think you're going?"
With a flourish, Tina whipped out the exhibition brochure. "To an exhibit, my dear father."
Hamilton's expression softened slightly, conceding as long as she didn't venture outside Capital City. As the car window rolled up, he suddenly stopped it and, with an authoritative tone, added, "Hold on. I've invited Alfred to come by. You two can go together. It's better than lounging around the house, and you should spend some time with him."
Tina's enthusiasm for the exhibit halved, and she turned back, resigned. "Whatever you say."
Arriving in a Ferrari that was as flashy as it was fast, Alfred was the polar opposite of Phillip, who had been engaged to Tina last year. Alfred, only a year younger than Phillip, had a demeanor that couldn't be more different.
As they sped off, Alfred shot Tina a mischievous grin and whistled. "How's this?"
Tina pointed ahead. "See that Maybach? Crash into it."
"Are you crazy?" Alfred's eyes widened. "That's your dad's car."
"Oh, you knew?" Tina retorted in a dry tone. Alfred reluctantly eased off the accelerator.
The world-renowned photographer's first show in ten years, set in the artistically vibrant Capital City, drew photography enthusiasts from around the globe.
The gallery owner, a long-time
l.ne
acquaintance of Phillip's, clapped him on the back. "You've still got it pulling strings to get a retired world-renowned photographer like her to exhibit. But since when are you interested in photography?"
"Recently," Phillip responded his attention subtly drifting toward the entrance.
Tina entered, ker presence commanding the room. Dressed in an ivory jacket and stepping lightly in delicate lambskin boots, her affluent upbringing and carefree spirit were evident. A mint green crocodile-skin mini Kelly bag added a touch of
spring to her ensemble. Content
As she went in, the gallery owner followed Phillip's gaze to her, a knowing smile spreading across his face. "Ah, I see now. It's not photography you're interested in. It's her."
Phillip replied, "You talk too much," but offered no denial.
The gallery owner was about to tease Phillip further when a man hurriedly caught up to Tina.
"Why didn't you wait for me? I was parking the car."
Noticing the slight change in the gallery owner's demeanor and Phillip's impassive face, he tactfully added. "That's the youngest son of the Lewis family. I hear there's talk of a union with the Watson family."
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