His Destructive, Toxic Love novel Chapter 239

"How long can she keep up the act?"

Dillon was confused.

From what he knew, this woman probably wasn’t Eliza. Was he not as sharp as Casper? Well, Mr. Casper did know Eliza best. So, if she really was Eliza, what was Casper planning to do next?

"Mr. Casper, even if this Valerie is your wife, she’s been married and had a child. You..."

Married and had a child—those were the facts. No matter what excuses he found, he couldn't change that. If Valerie was truly Eliza, did it matter to him after everything that had happened?

A smoky haze surrounded him, his gaze distant and intense, with an unfathomable glint in his eyes.

On a Monday morning, sunlight filtered through sparse clouds, casting warm rays on the bustling streets. Eliza stood at the preschool entrance, gently waving as her son’s small figure disappeared into the campus. She smiled contentedly, ready to turn and leave.

Looking up, she suddenly saw a tall figure, making her heart skip a beat.

"Who are you...?"

"Ms. Valerie, good morning." The man approached, bowing slightly, his voice deep and respectful. "I'm Dillon. Mr. Casper would like to meet with you to discuss something. Please, honor us with your presence."

Eliza frowned slightly, her face showing clear refusal. "I don't know you and am even less acquainted with Mr. Casper. I don't think there's anything to discuss."

She stepped away, intending to leave.

Dillon quickly moved forward, raising his hand to stop her, still speaking respectfully. "Ms. Valerie, please don’t misunderstand. Mr. Casper simply wishes for your assistance. It’s not a difficult favor for you, and it will also benefit you. Please, grant us a meeting."

Casper chuckled lightly. His gaze still lingering on her beautiful profile, he began, "I hear you’re an art teacher. You must be very good at painting, then?"

"I only teach children's art. It’s good enough to entertain the kids."

Following her lead, the man nodded slightly. "Perfect. I have a friend who, due to trauma, has become somewhat childlike, not much different from a kid, really. I was hoping you could paint a portrait for my friend. It shouldn't be too much trouble, right?"

Which friend was traumatized and had become childlike? He couldn’t be talking about Robin. She hadn’t visited Robin in these three years, fearing it might arouse Casper’s suspicions. She was only aware of some details through Chelsea.

Eliza maintained her composure, a hint of coldness in her eyes. "Mr. Casper, what kind of painting do you want?"

"A simple portrait for my friend would be nice," he said, his eyes showing a hint of seriousness. "I can offer a million dollars."