<h4>Chapter 232: A Gift Full of Irony</h4>


    Maybe they’lle across something rare, and that would definitely cheer the old man up.


    With that thought, Julia knocked on the study door. When she opened it, she saw Sean sitting inside, smoking gloomily.


    "Old man,e downstairs and see if there are any gifts you like. Don’t sulk up here. Why let those petty people get to you?" Julia said with a smile, as Leah walked over.


    "Grandpa, Grandma’s right. Why get upset? If you’re angry, you’re ying right into their hands," Leah gentlyforted Sean.


    Sean had a soft spot for Leah, and with a long sigh, his frustration seemed to ease. "You’re right. If I let it get to me, it’s exactly what those people want. Let’s go and see if there’s anything that might cheer me up."


    The group left the study and headed toward the main hall.


    The hall was piled high with gifts, all in fancy, high-end boxes.


    Leah, smiling, held onto Sean’s arm and said, "Grandpa, look at all these gifts! I’m sure every single one is a treasure!"


    Sean patted her hand. "Good girl, help me open them. Let’s all see what surprises are inside."


    Sean’s mood lightened as they opened gift after gift. Sure enough, everything was of exceptional quality—antiques, or artwork by renowned masters.


    Sean picked up a rectangr box that was clearly a piece of artwork.


    As he unwrapped it, a rich smell of ink filled the air.


    Sean slowly unrolled the scroll, and immediately his expression darkened. The painting in his hands had to be a gift from Eric and E!


    The painting depicted a woman, her smile radiant and captivating.


    She was dressed in a long gown, beautiful and graceful, though the style of the dress was clearly from over a decade ago.


    "Wha... who sent this?" Julia’s face turned pale the moment she saw the painting.


    On the side of the painting it reads: "Portrait of Isabe!"


    Eric and E had actually given Sean a portrait of his deceased daughter!


    Sean’s expression grew even more severe, his hands trembling with rage as he hurled the painting to the ground.


    Leah nced down and saw the signature—Brandon.


    "Who’s Brandon?" Leah felt the name was familiar, but she couldn’t quite ce it.


    Sean’s legs trembled with anger. He slumped into a chair, furiously tossing his cane aside.


    "Scoundrels! How dare they send me something like this!" Sean’s chest tightened with fury, and Frank hurried to pat his back. "Dad, don’t get so worked up! That’s exactly what they want!"


    Sean took deep breaths, struggling to calm himself, but every time he looked at the painting lying on the floor, he saw the inscription on the side: "July 7th."


    That date—his birthday—was also the day Isabe had passed away!


    It was cruel irony, a ck-hearted curse!


    Eric and E had sent him a self-portrait of his deceased daughter!


    Sean’s veins bulged in anger, and he nearly exploded again. Julia was by his side, soothing him, "Why let these younger folks get to you? They’re outsiders now. Why bother?"


    Though she said that, people on the outside would undoubtedly think Sean was cold-hearted, hosting a birthday party on the anniversary of his daughter’s death.


    "Exactly, Grandpa. Why let them upset you? It’s what they want!" Leah and the others tried to calm him down, and slowly, with his family’sforting words, Sean’s emotions began to settle.


    Max, upon seeing the artist’s name, let out a surprised "Huh? Brandon? What kind of artist is that? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of him... oh wait, I remember now. This guy studied abroad at Country W and even won some SS award. He’s gained a bit of fame. I also heard he’s E’s ex-boyfriend. But the funny thing is, on the very night he won her over, he ended up in bed with her sister, and that wild girl caught them in the act!"


    Max had been keeping an eye on E ever since Carter Group had been repeatedly getting the short end of the stick.


    He had discovered that E had quite a colorful past. Her stepmother went to prison, her father was killed by that stepmother, her half-sister disappeared, and then there was the whole Brandon scandal, which Max had naturally learned about as well.


    "What did you just say?" Sean was furious. "They had the nerve to say that the work of this so-called famous artist is worthy of matching my stature?"


    The smart ones in the room understood the underlying insult.


    Brandon was aplete scumbag—after proposing to the older sister, he slept with the younger one. His behavior was outright depraved!


    Eric and E’s message was clear: they wereparing Sean’s character to Brandon’s!


    Sean flew into a rage, mming his fist down on the coffee table, producing a loud thud. Julia was so frightened that she quickly grabbed his arm. "Old man, don’t do this... calm down, calm down! Max, get rid of that painting immediately! Trash like that has no ce in our home!"


    Max, realizing his words had stirred up trouble, quickly took the painting and threw it in the trash outside.


    Sean was so angry that his eyes rolled back, and his blood pressure shot up. Julia and the others rushed to give him his medication.


    He gasped for breath, looking frail and weak like an elderly man worn down by illness. But his eyes still held a venomous re. "That wicked girl! Just wait. We’ll see who wins in the end!"


    Meanwhile...


    E was gently wiping Eric’s body. His skin had almostpletely healed, but to ensure a full recovery, she decided to hold off on letting him take baths for another ten days.


    In the slightly steamy bathroom, E softly ran a sponge across his chest.


    A faint smile yed on her lips. "By the way, do you think that old man will be mad enough to drop dead tonight?"


    Eric let out a wickedugh. "He should be. That old man is so cruel; he’s finally getting what he deserves."


    E pursed her lips slightly. "Do you really think the gunman will lead us to the person behind all of this?"


    "Of course. You don’t need to worry about that. Besides... the person backing him is no small fry. That’s why we have to be extra cautious."


    Eric’s eyes darkened, a sharp, murderous glint shing in them for a brief moment before disappearing.


    E frowned slightly. If that’s the case, Eric will need to be even more careful.


    These past few days, he had been recovering at home, and they had increased the number of bodyguards to five.


    With the two they already had, that made seven in total.


    ording to Eric, those guards were part of a team he had personally trained seven years ago. They had all been soldiers, with humble beginnings, but were fiercely loyal to their leader.