NovelStart"Ms. Altman, it's been a while. You still look as lovely as before," the man complimented Amber with a gentle smile.
Amber looked stoic and cold. She lowered her gaze and replied humbly, "Sir, thanks for the compliment." "You're indeed a woman groomed by Mr. Schmidt. You're gentle, demure, and gracious. Sometimes, | feel that you're Alyssa Taylor herself. You're the best substitute I've ever seen." Amber kept her silence, but she looked glum. By describing her as a substitute, all his prior compliments sounded sarcastic to her.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtJameson did not continue on that topic. Instead, he opened the box and revealed the antique vase to the man.
"This is a Wiktorian-era pink frosted vase | got for you from a Yoarkley auction. It's nothing special. | hope you don't mind it." Sheryl lifted a brow in amusement. She had been keeping an eye on the vase for her employer. In the end, an anonymous buyer won the bid with 50 million dollars. She had not expected the buyer to be Jameson.
She thought, "Mr. Schmidt is indeed a thoughtful lapdog." The man nodded softly. "Mr. Schmidt, that's very thoughtful of you. I'll need your help on drug DAD0044." Jameson nodded at him. "Don't worry. I'll give it my best." After Jameson and Amber left, silence fell on the scented room.
"Sir, whose face do you think is prettier—my face that you sculpted or Amber's that resembles Alyssa Taylor?" Sheryl gently placed her hand on the man's shoulder and whispered into his ear.
He smiled and patted his thigh. She obediently walked over and kneeled in front of him. Then, she looked up at him with a tender gaze on her radiant face.
"Amber might be a carbon copy of Alyssa Taylor, but shel ever be her. She's a low-grade substitute that Jameson Schmidt created to satisfy his desire." The man leaned forward and placed a finger under her chin.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmHe lifted her chin slowly. "You are just you. You're a work of art | meticulously crafted. That boring substitute is no match for my art piece." Sheryl's eyes glinted when she heard his words. To her, he was an omniscient deity who categorized the beings in the world into two—those who belonged to him and those who did not. She did not mind being described as an item.
"Sir, please forgive my bluntness." Kneeling on the floor, Sheryl started massaging his leg. "I think this is the best opportunity for you to hit back.
"As Jameson Schmidt had said, the best way to manipulate a man is by gaining his sympathy. I'm worried that Javier Beckett might hand the Beckett Group to Jasper out of guilt." The man chuckled. "No, he won't." Sheryl opined, "Now that Sophia Kirkman is done for, there's no reason to keep Betty Beckett in the family. Why don't you reveal the secret and get rid of both mother and daughter? A useless chess piece will only be an eyesore in the game." "We've not reached the end yet. How would you know she's useless?" Sheryl was surprised by the remark.
The man explained, "Grandpa has taughtto be frugal from a young age." He leaned his lanky body backward and added, "That's why | need to make full use of all my chess pieces. That way, | can put his life advice into practice." Sheryl smirked. "Is Jameson Schmidt one of those chess pieces?" The man merely coughed and gracefully lifted the cup. "I hope he givesa satisfactory reply on the drug trial mission. Otherwise, that will be the end of our partnership." Sophia had appealed against the sentence on the sday. Ten days later, the appellate court affirmed the sentence, which meant that she would still face the death penalty.
From that moment onward, she felt as if she had gone blind. She spent each day curled up in a corner of her cell, staring blankly at the tiny window. That would go on from dawn to night. Everything around her appeared dark and murky.
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