Furious, Tristan stormed into the surveillance room and immediately pulled up the footage from the day the painting arrived.
The video clearly showed Nicole cutting the painting, removing her portion, then carefully rewrapping it and placing it back in its original spot.
The moment he saw the footage, Tristan’s voice trembled with disbelief.
“No… no, this can’t be. Nicky wouldn’t do something like this.”
A housekeeper nearby quickly tried to console him. “Maybe Mrs. Ford didn’t like the painting? Perhaps she thought it made her look bad?”
“Yes… yes, that must be it,” Tristan muttered, grasping at the excuse. “When she comes back, we’ll have a new one painted, something even better.”
But where was she now?
He
le stood up and stumbled back to their bedroom, only to find that even the bed was gone.
“Where’s the bed? Where’s our bed?”
“Sir, Mrs. Ford asked us to move it downstairs,” the housekeeper replied, lowering her head. Something about the situation. didn’t feel right.
“Where is it?“!
Tristan followed the housekeeper to the yard, but all he found was a pile of ashes.
“The bed… where is it?”
“Mrs. Ford burned it.”
“What?”
