?Chapter 831:


    The judges who had spoken in Maia’s favor shifted awkwardly.


    “Ms. Cooper, aren’t you pushing this too far? I haven’t taken any bribes from anyone.”


    “We’re simply doing our jobs. All we care about is the art itself.”


    None of them spoke with real confidence. Their words sounded thin and uncertain.


    Several judges exchanged nervous nces before turning to Maia.


    “Ms. Watson, can you produce an actual photograph of your subject? If we couldpare it to your painting, we’d be more certain of our decision.”


    A second judge jumped in. “That’s right. Even if she’s no longer alive, surely someone kept her picture somewhere? If you can prove your work is a faithful portrait, of course, we’re willing to clear your name and dere you the winner!”


    Each of the older judges chose their words with caution. Deep down, all they wanted was to push the responsibility onto Maia and steer clear of any trouble.


    All attention shifted right back to her.


    Standing firm, Maia did not flinch or waver. Anyone watching could tell that she had braced herself for this moment. Letting her gaze travel across the judges before settling on Mariana, she said, “The Cooper family’s reaction just now says more than any proof I could offer.”<fna33e> Find the newest release on Find_Novel(.</fna33e>


    Her voice was calm but cut through the tension. Those few words shattered the stalemate and tipped the bnce in her favor.


    After that, Maia turned to Kiley, a faintly mocking smile tugging at her lips. “If I really missed the mark, how did you manage to recognize Nic right away?”


    Gasps and murmurs spread across the crowd. The judges were at a loss for words, and even Mariana, who had been so aggressive moments before, visibly froze.


    It did not take her long to recover. shing a frosty smile, she snapped, “I was only guessing. What’s wrong with that? If you want my opinion, your painting looks nothing like Nic’s.”


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    Crossing her arms, she denied her slip-up without hesitation.


    Maia met her stare, disappointment flickering in her usually clear eyes. With a soft sigh, she said, “I honestly thought someone from the Cooper family would handle defeat with more dignity.”


    “You’re the one who can’t handle defeat!” retorted Mariana, her voice rising as her eyebrows shot up. “Face it, Maia, nobody wins every time. The deal was clear. Since you lost, you should keep your word. Walk away from art. Stay out—”


    A voice as cold as ice sliced through the tension. “That’s enough.”


    Everyone’s head snapped toward Chris, whose stern face and raspy voice carried across the room. “I’ll speak for her. Maia’s painting is the spitting image of my mother, Nic.”


    You could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed.


    Maia nced over, taking in the calm lines of Chris’ face, and for a fleeting moment, she felt the tension in her chest ease.


    Any sense of relief vanished as someone in the crowd spoke up with suspicion. “Sir, everyone here saw you arrive with Maia. What makes your word trustworthy?”


    “If that really is your mother, you should be able to show us a picture, shouldn’t you?”


    Caught off guard, Chris faltered for a moment. He had no photograph to offer. Every image of Nic had vanished — lost to years of quiet erasure and family silence. Even if he wanted to show proof, there was nothing left to find. But staring at the painting had jolted memories loose, ones he thought he had buried for good.


    Chris faced the room, eyes frosty. “My mother went by another name. Sophia.”


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