The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 249

Could it be that Donald had recognized her?

For a fleeting moment, Penelope's composure wavered, but she quickly regained it and turned to face him. "What do you mean, Mr. Bishop?"

Perhaps the restaurant's dim lighting had obscured her features. He seemed to be studying her face more closely now.

"I heard Mr. Stapleton paid a hundred million for that painting of Edith's because of you."

So that was what this was about. Still, she was just as curious as he was.

"I'm a great admirer of Ms. Laurier's work. I love her style, her atmosphere, everything."

"Is that all?" Donald raised an eyebrow.

Penelope smiled but didn't answer. Instead, she countered with a question of her own. "You bid up to sixty million yourself, Mr. Bishop. What was your reason?"

She expected a vague, dismissive reply, but he answered with surprising earnestness. "Edith was once the woman I loved most."

Penelope frowned. How could he say that without a shred of guilt?

"You say 'was'?"

"Things happened, and we broke up."

"What things?"

"I'm sorry, I'd rather not talk about the past."

"You cheated on her, didn't you? You fell for someone else?"

The question was blunt, but Penelope's hands were itching to tear away his carefully constructed facade.

Donald frowned. "The truth is, she cheated on me."

Penelope thought she must have misheard. "You're saying she cheated on you?"

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