Chapter 32
Chapter 32
Karla caught on to what he was saying, “No worries, I’ll figure something out.”
“I can help you,” Blake suddenly offered, catching Karla off guard. He flashed her a knowing smile and added, “Because I’m dying to find out what secrets does that painting hold?”
Karla raised an eyebrow, musing to herself that Blake, despite his seemingly straightforward demeanor, was quite astute.
Blake asked her to go back and wait for a phone call. He needed to go through some procedures and get the approval of some people before he could confirm whether she could meet his grandpa Nicholas. Of course, the final decision still rested with Nicholas.
Before she left, Blake asked Karla if she had any message for his grandpa Nicholas.
After a moment’s thought, Karla said, “Tell him, a police officer named Karla wants to see him, and ask if he remembers the letter he sent out at the banquet many years ago.”
“A letter?” Blake was puzzled.
Noticing that he was about to ask more, Karla quickly said, “Just the message, no
Pass on need for further questions.”
“Alright,” Blake agreed to follow her wishes.
The next morning, Blake called Karla, informing her that his grandpa Nicholas was willing to meet her. Blake asked where she was so he could pick her up. By that time, Karla was already at the police station. Soon after, Blake arrived to fetch her.
Karla excused herself from the station on official business and got into the car. Once seated, Blake said to her, “Actually, you weren’t supposed to meet him. My grandpa Nicholas doesn’t know you. But when I mentioned the message you wanted me to deliver, he paused for a moment and then immediately agreed to meet you.”
Karla was actually gambling, betting that after all these years, he would still remember her.
Blake, curious, asked her, “Ms. Karla, what exactly is your connection to him? Or is there someone in your family, some elder, who has ties with him?”
Blake had speculated that the only possibility was a matter of past grievances between the older generations, and she was merely the messenger.
“You’ll find out when you meet him,” Karla, of course, wasn’t about to tell him anything.
Blake nodded and didn’t press further. Instead, it was Karla who asked, “What do you know about your grandpa Nicholas?”
“In what respect?”
Whatever you know, his past, or the story of his life.”
Blake thought for a moment and shared, “He has never married.”
Karla was taken aback. For Joana, he lived a solitary life? Suddenly, Karla remembered the night he planned to help Joana escape. What exactly had happened? Why hadn’t Nicholas successfully whisked Joana away, only to have her fall into Landon’s clutches?
Karla asked, “Do you know why he never married or had children?”
“I heard from my dad years ago that Grandpa Nicholas loved only one woman his entire life. Even though she married someone else, he never stopped loving her. When she died, he still didn’t marry,” Blake recounted, with a note of admiration, “In those times, the pressure to marry was immense. Being an outcast in the family, he later made his fortune. overseas, becoming a tycoon in the business world. Only in his later years did he return to the family fold.”
Karla felt she was beginning to understand Nicholas‘ life story. She thought for a moment and then asked, “Have you ever heard of the Howell family?”
“The Howell family? Which Howell family exactly?” There were so many Howells that Blake truly didn’t know who she was referring to.
Karla tentatively dropped a name, “Ever heard of Rowan?”
Karla had hoped he might know something, but unfortunately, he was clueless. Just when Karla thought she wouldn’t get anything useful from him, Blake suddenly mentioned, “Speaking of the Howells, I heard that back when my Grandpa Nicholas was just building his empire, there was a Howell who was always at odds with him, causing trouble and making his life difficult.”
“That person, was it Landon?” Karla asked.
Blake looked surprised, “How do you know?”
Of course, Karla knew. No one understood the feud between Nicholas and Landon better
than she did.
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