?Chapter 360:
When she reached the gallery’s grand entrance, her eyes were drawn to a massive decorative word etched boldly onto the front wall. It was a recent touch, courtesy of the gallery’s elusive new owner.
Two security guards in sharp suits and dark sunsses stood like statues by the door.
As Mariana pulled up, she immediately caught sight of Rosanna standing at the entrance.
Mariana gave a faint smile yet stayed silent as she gracefully made her way into the building.
Today, Mariana wore an elegant designer dress, her makeup impable, her entire presence radiating effortless sophistication. The guards, recognizing her instantly, bowed low and swung the doors open without hesitation.
Mariana had once hosted her own personal art exhibition here. Her status as a VIP was unquestionable.
Seeing her go inside, Rosanna rushed to follow.
Just as she reached the door, a thick arm shot out and blocked her path. “Membership card or invitation, please,” said the guard in a t tone.
He was used to people trying to slip in behind VIPs. The drill was simple — ask politely first. If they didn’t back off, they’d get tossed.
Rosanna stiffened in ce, mortified as her face turned crimson. She called out in a small voice, “Mariana!”
Without sparing a nce back, Mariana replied coolly, “She’s with me.”
At once, the guards straightened up, dropping their arms like sentinels stepping aside for royalty.
“Try to keep up,” Mariana said sharply as she continued walking without missing a beat.
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Rosanna exhaled the breath she had been holding and hurried after her.
Although Rosanna had left the slums and be the true daughter of the Morgan family, this was her first time attending such an event. She quietly followed Mariana, maintaining aposed demeanor while her gaze swept across the extravagant venue, rumored to have cost billions to construct.
The venue boasted soaring, luminous windows that reached from floor to ceiling. Sunlight poured through the ss, casting a brilliant glow on the immacte white tiles that seemed to repel even dust. Adorning each wall were numerous invaluable paintings.
“Today, a friend of mine is unveiling an art exhibit here,” Mariana exined, giving Rosanna a gentle smile. “It’s quite a unique style. I think you’ll enjoy it. Is this your first time at an exhibit? Just rx, there’s no need to feel nervous.”
“Yes, thank you for this opportunity, Mariana,” Rosanna responded graciously, slightly nodding. Everything here was unfamiliar to her. Before rejoining the Morgan family, Rosanna had not experienced the world of acimed art, vintage wines, or other rarities. Even as a Morgan, she seldom experienced the true indulgences of the elite. Vince had never introduced her to such an environment either.
This was precisely what she wanted to learn and understand. Only by doing so could she truly integrate into the upper-ss circles in the future.
They advanced slowly along the red carpet that cut through the gallery’s heart, their heels clicking rhythmically on the hard floor. Soon, Mariana paused before a certain artwork, and Rosanna stopped too.
Rosanna looked up to see a striking painting of a queen with aurel crown, authoritatively holding a scepter in front of her throne. Her stern gaze surveyed her kneeling subjects, who disyed total domination.
Mariana studied the painting with aplex look. Then she turned to Rosanna and asked, “If this painting represented your life, would you prefer to be the figure standing or kneeling?”
Caught off guard, Rosanna hesitated, then lowered her gaze, contemting Mariana’s question. After a moment of reflection, she met Mariana’s eyes decisively. “I am ready to assume any role you think best, Mariana,” Rosanna dered firmly.
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