<h4>Chapter 548: The Inside Story</h4>


    However, considering that Nichs was Samantha’s brother, Eric had decided to spare him. Instead, he had all the photos that the journalist had savedpletely destroyed.


    Yet, no matter how thoroughly those photos were erased, Eric had already seen them. They were now seared into his memory, impossible to forget.


    Frustrated, he put down his phone, his hand instinctively reaching for the cigarette pack beside him.


    E didn’t like him smoking. Thinking of that, Eric resisted the urge and pulled his hand back.


    He took a deep breath, trying to refocus his mind and get through his work for the day.


    But as soon as he opened the files in front of him, his interest quickly faded. He set them down weakly, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. The moment he did, the haunting image from years ago resurfaced—


    that shocking, vivid ssh of red...


    He massaged his temples as a knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. John walked in.


    "Boss, we’ve secured an appointment with Dr, one of the top psychologists in Country S. We can head to his office in an hour."


    To avoid any unnecessary spection, Eric had specifically requested to see a male doctor.


    There weren’t many renowned male psychologists in Country S, just a select few.


    "Good. I’ll get ready," Eric said, standing up and straightening his cor.


    He tried his best to push the disturbing images from his mind, but it was useless. If he could erase them so easily, he wouldn’t have needed to go to therapy in the first ce.


    When he was seven, he had developed autism. It was James who tirelessly sought out doctors to help cure him. But after he recovered, Eric began to resent James.


    James had learned about Eric’s depression from the newspapers. It pained him deeply. He tried calling Eric, but his calls went unanswered.


    Left with no other option, James personally went to E’s home to ask about Eric’s condition.


    When he learned that everything stemmed from a set of photos, he was overwhelmed with regret.


    If only he had been more cautious back then—if he had made sure those photos werepletely destroyed—none of this would be happening now.


    The truth was, he had been careless. He had assumed that journalist wouldn’t go back on his word.


    But in the end... things had spiraled into this mess.


    He let out a bitterugh. "It’s all my fault. If it weren’t for me... Victoria wouldn’t have died. And Eric wouldn’t have turned out like this."


    E remained silent, unsure of how to console him.


    James had been foolish back then. Leaving behind those photos was a ticking time bomb. If they had ever been published, the damage to the Nelson Group would have been catastrophic.


    After all, he had been the one in charge at the time. A scandal like that could have destroyed everything.


    "E, please... try to help Eric through this. If he doesn’t improve... I’d even be willing to let him beat me up if it helps relieve some of his anger. Maybe that’ll help him get better," James said, his voice filled with remorse.


    Eric’s pent-up emotions—James knew he was partly responsible for them.


    E shook her head. "Eric won’ty a hand on you."


    Because he wouldn’t even bother to.


    James’ eyes turned red at those words.


    "When will he be home?" he asked.


    "I don’t know. Right now... I don’t think he wants to see you. You should go back for now. Give him some time to process everything," E said calmly.


    Eric was already struggling with his emotions. Seeing the very person who had been the catalyst for his pain would only make things worse.


    James sighed heavily. In the end, he simply asked E to keep him updated on Eric’s condition before quietly leaving.


    E gently rubbed her rounded belly, trying to lift her own spirits.


    After all, she was still pregnant.


    "Little princess, you have to cheer for Daddy, okay? Let’s help him get through this together..."


    Ericpleted his first round of therapy. The weight on his heart had lightened slightly.


    E, too, secretly let out a breath of relief.


    The next afternoon, when E went to pick up the children, she spotted Liam standing by the entrance of Little Prince Kindergarten. The moment he saw her, his eyes lit up with hope.


    "Miss Davis, I know... using you as a model without permission was wrong. It’s a bad habit of mine. But please, I beg you, could you ask your husband to return my painting?"


    E froze. If Liam hadn’t shown up, she might havepletely forgotten about this. When she had asked John whether Liam was willing to sell the painting, John had told her he was.


    But now, looking at Liam’s bloodshot eyes and exhausted expression, she instantly knew that John had lied.


    "What’s going on? John told me... you willingly sold the painting to my husband," E said, raising an eyebrow in confusion as she looked at Liam.


    "No... they forcibly took my painting and threw a card at me. But... I don’t care about the money. That painting was my first-ever award-winning piece, Miss Davis. It means everything to me. Please... could you return it to me?"


    Liam pleaded, his voice filled with desperation.


    E remained silent.


    She understood that for an artist, a winning piece held great significance.


    But right now, Eric was in a fragile state. If she returned the painting to Liam, who knew what he would think?


    "I’m sorry, Liam," E said softly. "My husband is going through a very difficult time, almost to the point of depression. If I return the painting to you now... I’m afraid it might affect his emotions. So, can we put this on hold for now?"


    Disappointment flickered in Liam’s eyes, but after thinking for a moment, he nodded slightly.


    "That’s fine... Could you give me your phone number?"


    Liam’s voice was quiet, and a slight flush crept onto his face.


    E cast him a cold nce. "Alright, but unless it’s something important, I hope you don’t call me. My phone is always kept by my bodyguards."


    Liam quickly took out his phone and handed it to E. She entered her number, and he carefully took it back, staring at the unfamiliar digits before dialing.


    Sure enough, the ringtone sounded from the bodyguard standing next to E.


    After saving her number, Liam looked at her with hopeful yet cautious eyes. "Miss Davis... I really hope to get my painting back. I don’t want this card. Please return it to Mr. Nelson."


    With that, he ced the bank card into the hands of the nearby bodyguard.


    There was still a seven or eight-step distance between him and E, and if he moved any closer, the bodyguards wouldn’t allow it.


    The bodyguard turned to E for confirmation. She nodded, signaling him to ept it.


    A flicker of hope appeared on Liam’s determined face.


    E knew that this boy wasn’t driven by money.


    Fifty thousand dors could have given him afortable life for years.


    Yet, he had refused the card and instead chose to fight for his artwork. It was clear that what he sought was emotional fulfillment, not materialfort.


    "I’ll do my best to help you. Don’t let this affect your studies," E said, noticing that the boy’s eyes were slightly red.


    Even though she wasn’t particrly fond of male artists, she still offered him a few words offort.


    Liam gave a shy smile. "Thank you, Miss Davis. I know... you’ve been the one funding my education since middle school."


    E was taken aback.


    Liam quickly exined, "I identally saw the sponsorship records from my teacher, and that’s how I found out... Thank you. Once I graduate and start working, I’ll repay every cent you donated over the years."


    E nodded slightly. "Alright, I’ll be waiting."


    Liam’s willingness to return the money meant he didn’t want to be indebted to her.


    She had no intention of forcing anything on him.


    So, without giving it too much thought, she agreed.