The Billionaire Came for the Famous Curator—But Couldn’t Take His Eyes Off Her Quiet Sister
Chapter 4
The first crack appeared three days later.
Adrian was reviewing a shipment from Paris when Lena walked into the conference room carrying a folder.
“We have a problem.”
Isabelle looked annoyed.
“What now?”
Lena placed the folder on the table.
“The provenance document for the Saint-Clair painting.”
Isabelle’s expression tightened.
“What about it?”
“The date is wrong.”
One of the lawyers frowned.
“Impossible.”
Lena opened the file.
“The original gallery catalog lists the painting as sold in 1978. This document says 1976.”
“So?”
“So the listed owner didn’t purchase it until 1977.”
Silence.
Adrian looked at Isabelle.
“Can you explain?”
She stared at Lena.
“Where did you find this?”
“In the archive.”
“Why were you checking it?”
“Because that’s my job.”
“No,” Isabelle said quietly. “Your job was to inspect the physical condition.”
Lena looked at her.
“It became my job when the provenance was attached to the conservation file.”
Adrian leaned forward.
“Could it be a clerical error?”
Lena nodded.
“Possibly.”
“But?”
She opened another document.
“The signature is also wrong.”
The lawyer stood.
“Are you saying this is forged?”
“I’m saying I can’t authenticate it.”
Adrian looked at Isabelle.
“Then we stop the acquisition.”
Isabelle immediately objected.
“Adrian, that’s unnecessary.”
“Why?”
“Because Lena is overly cautious.”
Lena’s face went pale.
Adrian noticed.
“Overly cautious?”
“She has a tendency to assume the worst.”
Lena closed the folder.
“Fine.”
She turned toward the door.
Adrian stopped her.
“Wait.”
She looked back.
“I want an independent verification.”
Isabelle’s expression hardened.
“Adrian—”
“Independent.”
The investigation took forty-eight hours.
The document was fraudulent.
The painting’s ownership history had been manipulated.
Worse, three other pieces in the proposed exhibition contained similar inconsistencies.
Adrian’s lawyers began investigating.
Lena was blamed for discovering the problem too late.
Isabelle told the board that Lena had become obsessed with finding errors.
Then Adrian received an email.
It contained no subject.
Only a photograph.
It showed Lena as a teenager, standing outside a hospital.
Beneath the photograph were seven words:
Ask her why she left the family.
Adrian stared at the screen.
He called Lena.
She answered immediately.
“Hello?”
“Where are you?”
A pause.
“Home.”
“Can I come over?”
Another pause.
“Why?”
“Because I think someone is trying to hurt you.”
Silence.
Then:
“Adrian, you shouldn’t get involved.”
“Too late.”
When he arrived at her apartment, Lena was sitting on the floor surrounded by boxes.
She looked exhausted.
“Who sent you the photograph?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
She closed her eyes.
“You should leave.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“Tell me what happened.”
She looked at him for a long time.
Then she whispered:
“My parents died when I was nineteen.”
Adrian said nothing.
“Isabelle was already becoming famous. She wanted to save the family name.”
“And you?”
“I wanted to save the truth.”
She opened one of the boxes.
Inside were old photographs, letters, and documents.
“Our father had been accused of stealing paintings.”
Adrian stared at her.
“He didn’t.”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
Lena looked toward the window.
“I don’t know.”
She swallowed.
“But someone made sure everyone believed he did.”
Adrian understood.
This wasn’t about a gallery.
It wasn’t about a billionaire.
It wasn’t even about Isabelle.
Someone had been waiting years to finish what they started.
And Lena had just become the one person standing in the way.
