Chapter 14
Carter Lockwood repeatedly dialed the number he had never voluntarily called before.
Although he knew he’d only hear the mechanical voice telling him Anna Whitmore’s number was no longer in service.
Yet he realized this was the only number he knew to contact her.
His mind flashed back to the profile he had just seen at the art exhibition.
An inexplicable unease stirred in his heart.
In the past, he had always considered Anna Whitmore’s background a blessing.
She had no family, and seemingly few friends, with no one to rely on in this world.
Only he and the Lockwood Family could be her support.
So he always thought that even if she died, Anna wouldn’t truly leave the Lockwood Family.
The Butler had called once before, informing him the number was out of service.
He hadn’t thought much of it then.
“Unless she’s dead somewhere, she’ll come back sooner or later.”
The Butler had been visibly shocked upon hearing this.
“Mrs. Lockwood hasn’t met with an accident, has she?”
He scoffed coldly. How could that be possible?
If something had really happened to her, the police would have contacted him, her husband, by now.
But more than half a year had passed.
Anna Whitmore hadn’t appeared since.
Today, when he saw that painting, he felt his heart skip a beat.
The woman in the painting looked remarkably like Anna, yet somehow different.
The light in the painted woman’s eyes was more vibrant than the rising sun behind her.
So dazzling it was hard to look at directly.
Anna wasn’t like that.
She was more like a stagnant pool of water, never rippling.
Even a clay figure has some temper, but Anna was made of water.
Squeeze her gently, and forget about temper, she couldn’t even muster an angry word.
When badly bullied, she would only hide away alone.
He had once seen her crying alone by the glass greenhouse.
Hearing his footsteps, she had run back to her room to hide, like a startled kitten.
Back then, what he disliked most was her inability to hold her own.
Despite being Mrs. Lockwood, she only dared to put on airs outside.
Back at the Lockwood home, she reverted to her true self.
He had wanted to buy that painting, to hang in Anna’s room, for her to look at every day, to learn from it.
But Ethan Parker had said, “This is the portrait of my wife that I’m most satisfied with. I’m sorry, but I can’t part with it.”
Hearing this, he felt an inexplicable relief.
The woman in the painting really wasn’t Anna.
But after leaving the exhibition, he found himself urgently wanting to contact Anna.
She had been angry for too long now, surely it was time for her to come back.
After repeated mechanical responses, he finally lost patience and turned to his Bodyguard.
“Go find out where Mrs. Lockwood is, and bring her back directly when you find her.”
